#notice how he gets more and more soaked as the set goes on

[pothame]

pathetic wet man of the year 2021: han juwon

[pearlzier]

𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀sleepy gf quiet gamer bf, smut⠀ 𓈒⠀⠀✧

"that's it, baby, that's it, there we go, that's my girl," matt groans softly as you sink down onto his cock, the soft, wet squelching sound making his thighs tense faintly beneath you. he almost whimpers at the sight of you so blissed out, so sleepy but needy for him to fuck you. you'd woken up minutes before, soaked with need. he was surprised, to realise how wet you were, all because of him. but he was on call with his friends, so the two of you needed to be quiet.

being quiet was most definitely not your thing.

you were characteristically loud when in bed with matt. it wasn't your fault, necessarily. matt made you see fucking stars. so the blame for your borderline pornographic moans couldn't be placed solely on you. it was as much matt's fault as it was yours. as much as matt loved your pretty sounds, he also didn't want his friends overhearing the two of you when he was supposed to be focused on winning.

"gotta be quiet, ma," matt grunts, realising his friends are getting a little suspicious of how long his mic had been turned off. he would've kept it off the whole time so he could fuck your tight little hole as much as he wanted to, as much as the two of you wanted, but still. "don't want them to hear you, do you? hear how good you feel when i fuck you, huh?" you shake your head, to respond, but also to try shake away some of your drowsiness.

"don't want them to hear me," you agree quietly, slowly grinding your hips as you simultaneously shimmied a little more out of your fluffy pajama bottoms, the soft material brushing against matt's thighs causing him to groan a little bit. "gonna turn my mic back on, okay? gotta stay quiet for me." he turns it on, as promised, and he laughs at his friend's responses, giving you a quick look in the process.

you had to be quiet, because matt wouldn't be happy if you weren't. you knew what he was like when that happened, he was so unfair. your hands grasp at his shirt a little, as you shift your weight, and quiet little sounds slip past his lips at the way you move. he'd call you a tease if he didn't know how sleepy you were. no way you'd tease him in a state like this. his half-lidded blue eyes flutter over you and he smirks to himself, his hands preoccupied with the controller as he played.

it was up to you to get off, the look in his eyes told you. matt was busy with his game. he couldn't bounce you on his dick like he usually would, or hold you down so you could grind, no, you had to use your pretty head and think for yourself without his help for once. so cruel of him. you were the one who came to him all needy and horny in the first place, after all.

"mmh," you whine pathetically, under your breath, just quiet enough so matt's mic won't pick it up. he laughs at you, chuckles at how needy you are, mumbling under his breath, "go on then, baby, i can't help you." he's so mean, you think to yourself, as you try to lift your hips up and down on him. a low grunt slips past his lips, your walls gliding up and down on him.

"you're so mean," you huff out, trying to gain a momentum. you're so tired, as are your thighs, so moving is practically impossible. matt watches you for a moment, the impossibly slow pace you're setting making arousal coil in his stomach. he can barely stay quiet, grunts escaping him occasionally. "i ain't mean, baby, jus' busy." he was being unfair and he knew it.

this goes on for another fifteen minutes or so. you leaking on his dick, making a mess, unable to chase that releass you so dearly crave.

all while he laughs and jokes with his friends about a round of a game you honestly couldn't give two shits about.

eventually, he feels the tiniest shred of mercy. matt notices how sleepy you are and the way you're about to fall asleep with him inside, and he takes pity on you, deciding on finding a way to wrap up his gaming session with his boys. "s'gettin' late and i gotta do some shit in the mornin', but i'll catch up with you guys soon, aight?" his friends grumble agreements, a little disappointed as to their standards it wasn't even that late.

arguably 3am was late, but okay.

you don't start whining and whinging until you're absolutely sure his friends are gone, and it's like a dam's been broken the moment you are. "matt, please," you beg, "please, please.. wanna.. touch me, please," it's pathetic and whiny and you're absolutely not ashamed because he'd been a total dickhead in not helping you and now you just wanted to come. was that so bad?

"so needy, sweetheart.." matt mutters, a coy smirk playing on his lips as he leans back in the gaming chair, watching how you look, sat on him like that. his hands glide over your body, and you mewl at the touch, back arching instinctively. the way your tight walls squeeze him when your back arches urges him to finally give in and give you what you want, his hands sliding down to your hips. "just needed my attention, thought so," he starts slowly grinding his hips, bucking up into you in gentle motions. you let out soft gasps, pretty noises falling to his ears and only encouraging him more.

"that's it.. you ride my cock so pretty, ma," he's practically doing the work for you, since he knows how tired you are, but that doesn't mean he's not proud of you for even trying. his head tilts back, blue eyes watching you as he bounced you. "gonna fuck you so good, babe, make you see stars, huh? couldn't sleep? don't worry, baby, don't worry," he mumbles, oh, he'd get you to sleep. don't worry about it.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor

[cyber333angel]

like imagine sugar daddy! rafe begging to eat you out after rinsing his money on yu x

i would die i think x

-🎀

⋆｡ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡

you had just finished shopping with rafe at a couple of different stores, ending your journey at one of your favorite places, victoria secret. he had already spoiled you too much today but it was always worth it.

so as your walking around the shop pointing out what you liked, you decided you wanted to try a few sets on to make sure it would fit. rafe sat down next to the dressing room with your bags bought from expensive brands, places only kooks could afford, waiting as you tried on the pretty lingerie. they all fit perfectly except one was pretty hard to zip so you asked for help, “rafe could you come in here please? quick!” you yell to him, he picks up his head from his phone and walks into the large stall, locking the door behind him. “i just need you to zip this up. i think the zipper jammed-“ you stop talking for a moment, watching rafe in the mirror in front of you stare you down head to toe. “rafey! are you listening?” and he snaps from the trance. “yeah..yeah im listening kid. turn around.” you do as your told as rafe walks up to you, bracing his hand on your shoulder as he pulls the he zipper up.

you squeal looking at yourself, happy of how the lingerie fits. “oh em gee! rafe doesn’t this make me look so pretty! what do you think?” you turn to look up at him but jerk your head back a bit when he grabs you by the waist inching himself closer to you. “this little get-up is for me hm princess? teasing me because you wanted daddy to touch you?” rafe asked you with a stern voice, his sudden actions make you fluster.

the two of you had agreed on a strictly money based relationship when you first started out, having you attend all the prestigious events to impress the kooks with his pretty girl on his side. but over the weeks you noticed he would look at you and hint things in a way that was not so professional. “no rafe! remember we said no sex and that this was only a business relationship?!” you tell him, although you were only trying to convince yourself at this point. “business relationship my ass you know you want more than that. why don’t you let me make you feel good huh? you look so pretty for me..” you look at him hesitantly, “I don’t know rafey..” and he twists his head to the side. “please baby?” his begging getting the best of you, you nod knowing what he said before was right and rafe flashes you a handsome smile. “theres my good girl.”

you sat in the chair that was in the dressing room, your legs spread out in front of his face as he lapped at your soaked folds. he had taken the lower part of your lingerie off, carful not to ruin it so he could buy it after he was done with you.

you were barely able to contain your moans as he sucked on your bud, his biceps wrapped around your legs forcing your heat to be close to his face. rafe mumbled little nothings under his breath, praising you. “taste so fucking good for daddy baby ..” you mewled at him, squirming around the chair and arching your back as he held you in place, “stay fuckin still alright?” he told you, pausing for a moment to get your response and you nod frantically. “mm yes daddy m’trying!” and the brunette goes back to licking stripes up into your cunt. “let’s hurry this up yeah?” you whine and cover your mouth as he takes two fingers, plunging them into your heat.

rafe thrusts his fingers in and out of your pussy, urging you to cum and you hump at his fingers, making rafe chuckle, “you really want to cum huh needy girl?” you ignore him as he places little kisses to your sloppy cunt making your hips buck. rafe sucks at your sensitive bud a few more times and you cum, your slick covering the bottom on his chin leaving you out of breath.

rafe licks the arousal of his fingers but sees you spread out on the chair out of breath. suddenly taking your jaw with his other hand and shoving the wet digits into your mouth. “taste how fuckin sweet you were for me..” you moan quietly around his fingers, slurping up the juices left as he looks at you.

he takes his fingers from your mouth, helping you clean you up and puts the lingerie set back in your shopping basket to pay for at the cashier desk. “lets go pay sweetheart. ” he tells you.

[gurugirl]

Next Door Neighbors | Part 2

neighbor!harry x reader

Summary: Your neighbor, Harry, goes feral after seeing you sweating in your garden.

A/N: Read Part 1 HERE!

Word Count: 5k+

Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight breeding kink, descriptions of bodily scents and tastes (sweat and the like), fluff

. . .

Harry couldn’t help but peek over the fence to watch you when he noticed you were in your backyard gardening. Wearing shorts so short he could almost see your cute ass. And he knew you had a cute ass. Cute everything really.

Though, the longer he watched the more like a creeper he felt. Like an actual creep watching you bent over with your knees and hands in the dirt and sweat soaking through the back of your tank top while you were totally oblivious. But you sure were a sight to behold. He imagined how your sweat must taste and smell. There was something going off in his brain as he watched you that was nonrational, quite carnal when he got right down to it.

He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You’d both been busy with your separate lives and jobs. And it was always awkward for anyone to try and initiate another “get-together” when who knows what the other person is thinking? Maybe to you, it was just a fun one-night thing. Because in a way that’s all it was to him. Not that he wouldn’t have been interested in doing it again, he just didn’t know how you felt about some kind of ongoing, no-strings-attached thing. Or if you even wanted ongoing. Or no-strings. There were too many ifs in the equation.

But he knew one thing. He couldn’t just stand there like a weirdo and stare at your backside for too much longer. So he had an idea, returning to his kitchen he poured two glasses of iced tea then walked back toward the fence and cleared his throat putting a grin on his face, “Looks nice,” he called out to you.

You dropped your trowel and turned around to see your neighbor looking over the fence at you holding up two glasses of something amber-colored. You smiled, standing up, wiping the dirt from your knees and palms, “Hi, Harry. What looks nice? Not much to see yet,” you began to walk toward the fence to get a better look at him.

“Well I can see you put in brick around the beds and ya know… just looks nice.” He shrugged.

“It’s just gonna be easy to care for flowers and shrubs. Some lavender too, for the mosquitos. I’ve been out here for almost two hours. It’s so much more work than I thought it would be. Never had the chance to have a garden before so I’m going to take advantage of this,” you smiled and watched Harry’s pink lips curve upward as his eyes ran down your frame.

“I guess it is a lot of work. Two hours is a lot of time to be out in the sun. I got you a glass of iced tea if you’re interested,” he held it out toward you over the fence and you took it, the icy glass immediately cooling to your palm.

“Thank you, Harry. This is nice of you,” you took a drink because you were thirsty. Parched actually. “Come over if you want to sit with me out here,” you gestured toward the table and chairs that were set up on your back patio. And maybe you were more than just thirsty. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with your hot neighbor.

Harry grinned and nodded, “Think I will if it’s okay.”

You watched Harry round the fence and then open the gate to yours to let himself into your backyard and you saw the way he looked down over your skimpy attire not meant for public eyes.

“Oh…” you looked down at your soiled white tank top and sweaty chest, “Mmm… maybe I should change first? I’m a gross mess.”

“You look great. Don’t worry. Come on let’s sit.”

And he meant it. You did look great. You looked quite like a treat if he were honest. A little sweaty treat but that wouldn’t deter him one bit.

Now you were feeling that bit of tangly excitement strum through your veins at just the sight of him. He was so good looking and it’d been, what? Two weeks since you’d heard from him? It was a little disappointing to you that he never called or texted or dropped in to say hi. Especially after that night you spent with him on his birthday. He had your number because you both swapped them before he walked you back to your house after you had sex.

Of course, you knew what you were doing when it was happening. It was unlikely that you two were going to suddenly fall in love and get into some kind of relationship. You were an adult and it was a fun night. Nothing more. And that was fine. Really, it was. A touch discouraging but nothing to be upset over.

You and Harry sat at your table with your glasses of tea in hand and you took another big gulp to cool yourself down.

“So what’ve you been up to?” He asked as he watched you wipe the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Just normal stuff… work and I go to a book club once a week. Went out and bought all the stuff I’d need for the garden yesterday. Things like that. Nothing exciting. What about you?”

“Same mostly. Been working late this week, just got off actually. Today was an early day. Uhh… I mean that’s it really. Owning a small business means anytime anyone can’t work I’m doing their job for them. One of my guys is sick. He’s been out all week. Kind of sucks but I don’t want him going to a job and getting everyone else sick.”

You nodded, “Wow. That does sound like a lot. Does it happen often that you have to fill in for your employees?”

Harry shrugged as he took a sip from his glass, “Sometimes. It’s part of the gig. I knew that going into it. I really don’t mind it much. Does put a hamper on my social life, though.”

You weren’t sure why that somehow pleased you. Perhaps that meant he had little time to date around. Lack of social life but with a nice little neighbor next door who was always there when he got home… You swallowed a gulp of tea and grinned, “Makes sense.”

Harry tried to keep his eyes on your face but it was hard with the way your white tank top was nearly see-through where you’d sweated. Just under your breasts was wet and along the collar portion and down through the middle of your bra. He could tell you were wearing some kind of sports bra.

“So, uh…” Harry took in your face and realized that when you wiped the sweat from your forehead, you’d smeared dirt under your hairline. He placed his glass of tea down and scooted his chair toward you, cupping his hand at the back of your neck, “Here… you’ve got something…” he wiped his thumb over your forehead and your pulse immediately began to race.

Having his hand on the back of your neck to hold you in place as he used his other one to wipe your brow felt far more intimate than maybe was intended. You watched his face as he cleaned you up and then he lowered his gaze to yours, “You are a bit of a mess aren’t you?”

He grinned and licked his lips as he moved his hands away and you felt stunned as he lowered his sight to your tits. Maybe he did intend for it to be as intimate as it felt. Maybe he’d done it on purpose.

Looking down at yourself you saw how dirty your tank top was and how clearly sweaty you were. You hadn’t imagined anyone would see you like this but now here you were with your gorgeous neighbor’s green eyes on you.

There was definitely something in the way he was looking at you that made you feel extra hot. Even the sun wasn’t as searing hot as his eyes were on you, “Thanks. Sorry I know I’m so gross.”

Harry shook his head, “Not at all. Quite pretty actually.”

You laughed and looked out into your garden, “Not true. I smell like an unwashed trucker right now.”

Harry laughed with you and he took the arm of your chair and pulled you closer to him, your knees bumping into his as he did so, “Let’s see,” he looked down over the skin on your neck and to your clavicle, leaning in toward your throat you could hear him softly inhale, “Smells more like a sweaty girl who was working in her garden for two hours.”

His nose brushed against your jawline, “A little sweet-smelling, maybe a touch acrid,” he sat back to look at you, “But I’m not picking up any unwashed trucker notes on you.”

His smile was excruciating. You shook your head and balked with a laugh, “You’re crazy.”

He tilted his head and you watched as his seafoam green eyes landed on your lips, “Maybe a little.” He looked back up into your eyes and licked his lips with a soft grin spreading over his lips, “I happen to think you smell really delicious right now.”

Your eyes widened as you scoffed, “You really are crazy in that case. Delicious?” And even though you tried to sound like you weren’t aware of his sudden advances you could tell he wasn’t deterred one bit as he softly placed his middle finger over your knee and pushed up to your midthigh before bringing it back down toward your knee again.

“That’s what I said. Wouldn’t mind getting a better whiff, in fact,” his pink tongue pressed between his lips and you could see the tip of it slowly push outward as his mouth parted slightly, “A taste even.”

You gulped thickly and looked from his finger that was still working a path up and down the top of your thigh and up to his mouth and then his eyes. You could think of nothing you wanted more than to tear his clothes off and have another go with him. Except that you were stinky and even though he was hinting that he liked it you weren’t sure how that was possible.

Harry could smell you with the closer proximity. And he didn’t know what it was about your natural smell that was making his mouth water. He’d heard of pheromones and how sometimes body odor could be a turn-on for some people. He hadn’t ever experienced it until then. But you did smell incredibly sexy. Something primal in him was working its way to the surface and even making his cock twitch in his shorts.

“Do you want me to stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked.

You shook your head, “No. I’m just… a little surprised is all.”

Maybe Harry had a thing for sweat or something. You weren’t sure. But he was definitely coming on to you.

“So if I got onto my knees right now, pulled your shorts down, and then stuffed my nose right between your legs you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with that?” The grin on his face was facetious but somehow you believed him when he said it.

And what would your answer be? Would that make you uncomfortable? Or would that make you feel good? Would you enjoy Harry smelling your crotch?

“I don’t…” you laughed and looked down at his finger on your thigh, “Maybe it would be a little strange. I’ve just never… Like it smells bad,” you looked back up into his eyes as he scooted toward the edge of his chair closer to you.

“It doesn’t smell bad. I promise you. But would it make you uncomfortable?” The facetious grin disappeared suddenly and you were aware that he wasn’t playing around.

You laughed out a breath and blinked, “I don’t know.” You turned your head to look at the fence, “Oh my god this is so embarrassing.”

Harry took both of your hands in his and that drew your attention back to his eyes, “Let me do it. If you don’t like it I’ll stop. Okay?”

You couldn’t believe what was happening as you nodded and smiled shyly. You watched Harry scoot out of his chair and get onto his knees with his eyes on yours as his hands ran up your thighs to your shorts, “It’s okay if I take this off?”

You let out a woozy breath and nodded, “Okay.”

Harry smirked as he began to pull down the stretchy material to reveal your cotton thong underneath. The soft groan he let out when your shorts were placed down on the grass as he pushed your legs apart had your heart pumping hard in your chest.

You pulled your lips into your mouth and held your breath as he bent toward your thighs and his fingers smoothed along the plush inside part of your legs and up to your crotch.

He scooted in closer, tucking himself between your legs and then you felt his hands on the meaty part of your hips as he pulled you toward the edge of your chair before he tucked his face in between your thighs and moaned at your smell.

You couldn’t see his face. Only the top of his head and then his nose as he pressed it against the fabric of your sweaty panties. But when he did that he bumped into your clit and you gripped the arms of your chair at that little nudge. And he did it again before he looked up at you, soft green wandering up your body to your eyes.

“Let me eat you out. Y/n,” he swallowed, “my mouth is literally watering right now. You smell so good and I want to taste you. Didn’t get the chance last time.”

You bit your lip and screwed up your brows as you looked down at the man between your legs.

“Are you sure? You really wanna do that? I just can’t imagine that it’s going to be pleasant.”

Harry brought a hand to the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. A sloppy, wet kiss that displayed just how much his mouth was watering, “I want to so bad. You can stop me if you don’t like it but don’t worry about me. I’m gonna enjoy myself if you let me.”

You huffed a breath and nodded, “Fine. But… Are you sure?”

His thumbs were pressing against the apex of where your thighs met your crotch, “Is that a yes?”

Rolling your eyes you nodded, “Yes.”

The grin on his face widened as his lips parted and he looped a finger into the fabric covering your pussy and pulled it aside. He dragged his middle finger through your crease and looked from your labia up to your eyes, “Relax.”

Harry bent down and licked a wet tongue over your pussylips and repeated, licking up and up until he pressed into your labia, spreading it apart and lapping through your folds.

He wasn’t sure why he loved it. He enjoyed the scent of women in general but your sweaty, natural scent, unwashed and concentrated had his mind going blank. Like he was an animal and needed to permeate himself with your smell. Needed to eat it and digest it and roll his body around in it.

And the tangy, salty flavor was so feminine and powerful and real… He moaned as he wrapped his soft lips around your clit and carefully tongued over your bud. You let your head loll back as you kept a grip on the arms of the chair you were sitting in when Harry lifted one of your thighs and draped it over his shoulder so he had a better angle of your cunt for his access.

You hoped the neighbors on the other side of the fence couldn’t see anything. If they did, it would just be your back with a man on his knees in front of the chair you were sitting in. But more than that it was the noises you were making that could pose a real problem.

Biting your lip to stifle your moans you looked back down at him. Soft curls on his head, eyes closed, pink lips smoothing against your pussy and lapping at the arousal he was creating. You could see your shiny slick on his tongue as you grew wetter and wetter. The angle at which you were sitting gave you the dirtiest view.

Harry tugged at the fabric of your panties again and ran his tongue along the outside of your pussy under the material of your panties and then he looked up at you as he brought his lips up to your clit and smushed them down onto you and kissed softly before parting from your pussy, “I need to have you riding my mouth,” he panted, “Need this all over my face. Can we go inside?”

You were in a daze. Harry had very efficiently worked you up in a frenzy and you’d nearly forgotten about your smell as you nodded and he pulled you up out of your seat, walking you into your house.

He was rushed as he pulled you along and into your bedroom where he gripped onto your hips and smeared his you scented lips against yours. You weren’t a fan of the smell in all honesty. It was too much. You didn’t mind your scent when you were clean but you hadn’t showered since that morning and to you, it just smelled like unwashed crotch.

His hands slid under the band of your thong as he pushed them down your hips, “Want you naked,” he breathed against your lips.

You moaned when he pulled your panties down your legs and then stood up to take off your tank top, slipping it over your head.

You reached under the elastic band of your sports bra and peeled it off as Harry stripped his own shirt off and then slid his shorts down his legs leaving him in only his boxer briefs.

He wrapped his hands around your middle and pushed you toward your bed before taking your breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples, “I’m just gonna say it, Y/n… I’m so fucking attracted to you. You’re gorgeous but the way you look right now and your taste… Kind of having a hard time thinking straight to be honest…”

You smiled at him in disbelief, but maybe you did believe him. He was acting like you were a long-awaited prize. Something he’d been saving up for and finally had the chance to have it. Could your smell be that much of a turn-on for him?

He pulled you with him into your bed, making you straddle his lap as he scooted himself into the middle of your blankets. His cock was already hard under his briefs as you brushed your pussy against the cotton fabric and you were reminded that you’d recently bought condoms. Should something like this ever happen again. But then that reminded you that you were ovulating. Big time. In fact, it was probably THE most fertile day for you in your cycle. You wondered if he could smell that somehow? Was there some kind of innate sense men had during a woman’s ovulation?

You felt his hands around your waist as he laid back and brought you up his chest, “Sit over my mouth,” he mumbled his words and his eyes were heavy as you tugged at you.

You laughed at his desperation as you pressed your knees into the mattress on either side of his head and very gently lowered yourself. You didn’t want to hurt him but he grabbed your hips and brought you down, making your pussy smother his mouth and tilt against his nose.

A gasp fell from your mouth at the sensation of his wet lips under you. He placed his hands on your ass and pressed you down further, making your clit run against his nose.

Harry would bathe in your scent. Use it as his shampoo and deodorant. Would bottle it up and make a perfume out of it. Yeah, he was losing his mind he was certain. In all his years of being sexually active, he hadn’t been so instantly obsessed with scent in this way. But it wasn’t just your scent. There was something else. Things were budding in him, like an instinctual impulse. It was something that felt ingrained, bestial. It was a base impulse that he couldn’t control.

He suctioned his mouth around your clit and looked up at you with your tits bouncing softly as you bucked your hips on him. Your pretty lips were parted and soft pants were falling from your mouth. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he needed more.

A deep, vibrating moan thrummed through your core, “Harry…” you breathed his name and looked down at him. His eyes were on yours already as he moved his mouth and tongue against you like he was a barbarian, a savage starved and heated… furious with hunger and you were his defenseless prey. A victim being fed on, eaten alive. It was filthy and so hot and he had your insides twisting and boiling with every suck of your clit.

“Fuck… you really like that don’t you,” you coughed a laugh before softly moaning as you placed your hands into his hair.

Harry’s brows were furrowed as he grunted and continued lapping and sucking. Like he had no time to respond to such a dumb question. It was obvious he liked it. No. He fucking loved it. He needed it.

His fingers pinched into your skin and you hissed at the sensation of it all. He was rough but it was good. It had you feeling like some kind of sought-after goddess over him. Like you were actually something special and he couldn’t get enough of you.

Your limbs started to quiver the closer you got. You rolled your hips down, pressing your pussy on his lips and bumping your clit against his nose as you moaned in ecstasy. The nearer your orgasm was the louder your voice became.

He drew your clit into his mouth and you felt his tongue slip up and down against it. The way you began to convulse and unravel over him nearly had you collapsing but he moved his big hands up to your waist to keep you steady as you cried out, rocking your pussy over his face.

You couldn’t control the way your body shook in your orgasm. It didn’t feel like you had full control of your movements as he continued to lick you through your release.

You jolted at how sensitive you felt, your clit suddenly feeling quite delicate and you pushed your hips up to separate from his mouth but he pulled you back down with a deep gravelly groan as he went in again, his mouth and tongue allowing no mercy.

“Harry! Fuck!” You giggled and pressed your palms onto his forehead and used your thighs to gain leverage to pull away from him, “Too much!”

You backed down his chest to move away but Harry sat up and grabbed your hips harshly, pushing your back down into the mattress after he crawled over you, “I’m going crazy or something…” he kissed down your neck and lowered his mouth to your breast and sucked the skin, swiping his tongue over every inch until he moved to the other side and delicately nibbled your nipple and pulled at it with a moan. When you felt his mouth begin to trail down your tummy as his hands began to spread your thighs again you snapped your legs closed and laughed, pushing at his forehead, “Are you serious? I’m too sensitive, Harry!”

He groaned and looked up at you, “I want more…”

You kind of loved this if you were honest. Loved how he seemed possessed by you.

“You can fuck me if you want. My clit needs a little break from your mouth, though,” you grinned at him, “Wouldn’t mind feeling you inside of me again. I have condoms this time.”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and you saw just how erect and hard he was. His cockhead was pushing at the top band of his underwear, begging to be let loose so you reached for it and pulled it away from his hips, letting his tip poke above the band, “Do you want to?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah. Fuck, okay.”

You pried his hands from your hips and moved to the edge of your bed to open up your bedside table, pulling out your fresh pack of condoms. Harry had removed his underwear quickly and then took the box from you as he moved behind you and tore the pack open to pull out a foil wrapper.

You bit your lip as you watched him toss the box onto your bed and rip the wrapper to bring the rubber out.

He looked up at you as he placed the condom on his tip, “Wish I could fuck you raw, Y/n. I know that’s a bad idea in my logical mind, but…” he looked down as he rolled his hand down his shaft and then back at you, “Something about you makes me want to do a really stupid thing,” he puffed out a laugh as he grabbed you by your neck and pushed you back into your bed.

You were completely caught off guard by his dominance but it did nothing but turn you on even more, “What really stupid thing?” You asked as he grabbed your thighs and pressed his palms to the back of them, pushing your legs out of the way of his hips as he pressed himself against you.

“It’s just a thing…” he looked directly at you as his crown pressed through your muscle, spreading you open gently, “Like lizard brain. Spreading my seed, claiming you…”

Your mouth dropped open as he plunged himself into you. That thick cock taking up so much space on your insides it ached.

“Oh fuck you feel so good, Y/n…” he growled as he began thrusting himself through your walls, getting himself good and deep, “Want to fill you up with my come is what I want…” he groaned, another stiff rut through your slick pussy, “Show everyone what I did… how I made you mine… fuck…”

You understood what it was he was saying. It was that primal thing most humans had in them to procreate. Especially men. And your ovaries were not opposed to what he was saying at that moment. But you knew that feeling would pass once you stopped ovulating.

You sighed as he rocked into you, his chest flushed and his arms flexed as he drove himself back and in over and over again until his rhythm grew brutal and he was hammering into you with deep moans.

You whined at the way he was punching into you, sliding through your cunt like he was going to die if he didn’t put his all into it. He was fucking into you like a madman.

“Oh shhhit, Harry!” You yelped out when his hips pasted against yours and he choked out a loud groan as his cock began to throb in heavy pulses inside of you.

“Fuck, I’m coming… Shit!” His face twisted up as he released into his condom, wishing he was coating your walls and letting his sperm seep into your ovaries. He felt a little bad that he didn’t make you come again, but he couldn’t hold back. He was in caveman mode, or whatever it was… completely blissed out and not thinking rationally.

You watched his handsome face scrunch up and then relax as his lips parted and he ground into you, swiveling his hips against you so hard it made your pussy clench with a pang of pain. The good kind of pain. This was the kind that was worth it. To watch this big man over you in ecstasy, soft gasps falling from his lips as his come drained out of his cock in relief.

When he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you he felt your hand on his jaw with your lips turned up in a soft smile, “Better?”

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry. That’s… I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

You gulped and pulled at him, both of you rolling to your sides, “I’m ovulating so I wonder if you’re like smelling the pheromones or whatever?”

He grinned widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled, “Maybe? I guess that’s a thing right? But… I’m sure I’ve been around other ovulating women. Never made me insane before.”

You raised your brows as you brought a hand to his temple and smoothed his hair back a little, it was all messy from you sitting on his face, “Maybe I’m just special.”

Harry licked his lips and his grin turned into something playful with an edge of lust, “Well you certainly taste special,” he lifted your arm up and leaned in, licking up the curve of your armpit and you squealed in shock and laughed.

“What on earth? That’s so gross!” You pushed at him but he pulled your arm around his middle so you couldn’t shove him too far.

“Mmm… I swear you have something in your sweat that’s making me crazy.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “I think it’s just lizard brain. Like you said.”

Harry shrugged and nuzzled in closer to you, “Maybe. The only way to find out is if we do this more often. Probably shouldn’t wait so long between seeing each other anymore.”

You were not disappointed by the turn this took. You’d be down to see him more often if he wanted, “Yeah?”

“Definitely, yeah.”

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[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men with a big-chested reader

Pairings: Nanami x reader; Geto x reader (nsfw); Yuji/Sukuna x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,4k (she's big)

Warnings: THIS IS A FIC WITH A BIG-CHESTED READER! so if this triggers you, don't read it (especially in Sukuna's part, you might get triggered when having smaller boobs so just do me a favor and don't read it instead of leaving a sassy comment), boob play in Geto's part so nsfw, in general harassment but big old fluff from your faves, not proofread bc I have my final exam tomorrow - hope you enjoy! 🤍

Special thanks to one of my moots for letting me turn her cleavage into a cover for this fic - you look STUNNING + thank you to everyone who sent me their experiences for this!

Since I'm not big-chested myself, I'm calling all my big boobie girlies to leave me a lil review about this fic - it would literally help me so much 😭

Click here to get to the small-chested version

Nanami Kento

You sigh to yourself, too exhausted to even stand up straight anymore. Today was like a trip to hell and back. All those fucking curses, the death, the horror. You rub your tired eyes, the stinging pain in your back reminding you more than urgently that you have been up for way too long.

“You look tired, darling. Go change and get into bed with me.”

Oh, that deep voice behind you, the voice you learned to love to the moon and back. How did it even happen that a man like Nanami Kento was seeking interest in you? What was it that made a man like him even look your way? You’ve known each other for quite some time, seeing each other on missions from time to time. But when you began to work at Jujutsu High, everything changed so fast that you couldn’t keep up. And now you’re sitting here in his bedroom, watching in awe as he crawls into bed with nothing but his boxer shorts on.

You would love to get out of your uniform right now, But most importantly, you urge to take off that soaking wet bra that has been bugging you since afternoon. You have no choice, though. With a large chest like yours, it simply isn’t possible to leave the house for missions without extra support. You glance at him while he reads in his book, your gaze falling to your chest.

This isn’t exclusively about missions and you know it. Even though you’ve been together for a few months now, you were never brave enough to show Kento your breasts. Not without a bra, let alone completely naked. Just the thought of him seeing how your big breasts fall down when they slip out of their bra shells, the look on his face when he realizes that you don’t look like those large-chested models with their boobs standing like mountains. Yours definitely don’t. And you fucking hate it.

“I know that look on your face. You are uncomfortable, aren’t you?”

His soft voice rips you out of your pondering immediately. Fuck, he caught you again.

“No…I mean…Yes, kinda…”

You can’t lie into his gorgeous face, not even when the truth makes you feel so uncomfortable. Oh, how much you wished you look the way he deserves it with delicious female curves that suit his flawless appearance. But as soon as you look down, you just know how awful your boobs will look when set free. So you’ll do what you do every night: wait until Kento is asleep to finally take off your bra only to set an alarm in the morning to get up before him and put it back on.

“I always wondered why you are waiting until I sleep to take off your bra and put it back on before my alarm goes off.”

You can’t help but stare at him, mind racing while your palms start to get sweaty. Fuck, how did he even notice? No, why did you ever think he wouldn’t? Kento cares about you like none other, never pushed you to take off your shirt, never failed to ask you how you’re feeling.

“Listen, darling.”

He gets off the bed and kneels down in front of the chair you are sitting on, gently taking your hand into his.

“I just want to make sure you feel comfortable around me. Am I the reason that you don’t want to take your bra off? I can see clearly how uncomfortable it makes you feel.”

“No!”, you blurt out immediately.

Calm down your tingling nerves, this is ridiculous. You stare blankly at your hands intertwined with his.

“I mean…It has nothing to do with you, it’s me.”

“How is this about you, love? There is no reason for you to feel uncomfort-“

“I’m afraid.”

You swallow hard. Are you oversharing? Will he laugh at you for something so ridiculous? But what if he sees you naked at some point, his gaze dropping to your chest only to be greeted by your large hanging chest? You can imagine the look of disgust on his face, how he turns away from you, how-

“Hey, look at me darling. Look at me and tell me what’s wrong”

He cups your cheek gently, forces your haunted eyes to look at him, to stare into his orbs filled with sincerity. There is no way out of this, you can’t lie into his gorgeous face.

“When I take my bra of my breasts just…hang. It’s even visible through my t-shirt…”, you mumble, cheeks redder than the devil.

Thick silence hangs between both of you, his gaze still as soft as before. What is going on inside his head? Is he secretly laughing at you, does he even care about what you have to say?

“Let me make a few things clear.”

He lifts himself off the ground and pulls you up. You squint your eyes, mind racing over why on earth he made you stand up. Is he going to leave, to laugh?

“First of all: I love you just the way you are. I love your gorgeous smile, the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you carry yourself. And I love your breasts-“

“You didn’t even see them yet.”

“I don’t have to in order to know that”, he continues.

“Nothing makes me sadder than seeing you uncomfortable each and every night before going to bed. Of course, I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it to be really painful after some time. Isn’t it digging into your skin?”

Oh, you think about the countless times the sweat underneath your bra made you almost go insane, the red streaks that visibly show where the wire cut into your skin all day.

“It kinda is…”, you confirm with low voice.

“Don’t do this to yourself. I adore you just the way you are and I am dying to see you laying comfortably in your t-shirt next to me. So please, would you allow me to take it off for you?”

Your eyes widen in pure shock. Is this a bad joke, is he just teasing you? No, this is Nanami Kento. And the way he gazes at you with nothing but affection gleaming in his eyes tells you that he’s telling the true, that this is what he wants right now. But are you ready to expose yourself like this? What if he’s still disgusted after saying all those nice words?

You let your head fall against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent. A voice deep inside you tells you to stop, to just relax inside his arms. This is the man who chose you out of all people, who stood by your side no matter what. Kento proved more than once that he loves you dearly, never made you feel the slightest bit bad about yourself.

“Go ahead…”, you mutter against his chest.

His hands wander up your back gently, make shivers run down your spine until he reaches the clasp of your bra. Your heart simply stops when he unclips it through the fabric of your shirt. You fade into darkness as soon as his hands wander up to your shoulders, slide down the thick straps and pull down your bra until he finally lands on the floor.

Slowly, he takes a step back and picks it off the ground.

“You will never have to wear this again when you are home with me, okay? Not when it makes you feel so uncomfortable”, he gently speaks out.

You stare in awe while he carefully places your big bra over the chair and returns in an instant to pull you close against his chest.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

“Yeah”, you mumble, body slowly but surely getting flooded by warmth.

“Going to bed sounds good…”

Geto Suguru

You feel hot but at the same time cold, turned on but at the same time scared. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for. At this very moment, none other than Suguru Geto is laying on top of you, kissing you so passionately that you forget how to breathe.

What an overwhelming feeling it is to call him your boyfriend for a few months now. Such a kind and loving man, always looking out for you, giving you the time you needed for this to finally happen. You couldn’t believe your own ears when whimpering that you want him, that you are ready.

But are you really ready for showing him that part of your body? The part that began too grow way too early in your life, the part you’ve always got picked on by all the other girls.

“Look, there she is! She looks like a cow ready to milk!”

“That cleavage…She’s literally begging for it, what a bitch.”

“Ew, are those pimples on your tits?”

You know you are better than that, that your big breasts just belong to you and that you should love yourself just the way you are. But with none other than Suguru laying on top of you, his hands slowly but surely coming dangerously close to your breasts…

“Wait”, you breathe out, haunted eyes making Suguru stop in his tracks in an instant.

“Did I do something wrong? If you don’t want to, we don’t-“

“No, this is great. I- … I waited so long for this. But I just wanted to let you know that…”

You swallow hard. Are you acting ridiculous, destroying the moment with your behaviour? Suguru’s chocolate brown orbs don’t show a hint of annoyance. Instead, he gently strokes your hair while waiting for you to move on.

He deserves to know it

“I might not have the nicest boobs. They are big, but not well formed like the ones of those models. I tend to sweat a lot underneath them, my skin breaks out from time to time and my nipples might be-“

“Stop that right now, (y/n).”, Suguru gently interrupts you with a grin.

But it doesn’t look like the grin of the girls who picked on you for years. No, this grin is filled with warmth and loves, fills you with what feels like confidence. After all, he said that he loves you just the way you are over and over, right? Still, he didn’t even see your boobs. What if he changes his mind?

“There is absolutely nothing, and I mean NOTHING about you that isn’t ‘nice’. I don’t care about what the chest of random models looks like, to be honest I don’t care about anyone but you. And you are everything I want, you are everything I see, you are everything I love.”

His words make you tear up in an instant, send your whole body into space. As long as you can remember, no one ever said really nice things about your breasts and therefore you. You were either insulted or sexualized. But that force of a man on top of you…He just looks into your eyes that are filled with nothing but warmth. This man means every word he says.

“Well, that’s cool”, you mutter without even thinking about your words, lost in the sheer sight of his sincere eyes.

There is no one in the world you want to show your boobs more. Like in trance, you pull up the hem of your shirt and let it fall to the floor mindlessly.

“Are you okay with me touching them?”, he purrs against your ear.

A silent whimper escapes your lips while you simply nod, whole body on fire where it touches his. Painfully slow, he lets his hands wander down your hair onto your shoulders, trace the line of your collarbones until he reaches…

Your breasts.

What an unknown feeling. But oh, what a sensation as well. You arch your back out of instinct while he massages your breasts, the feeling of his fingertips against your still skin alone simply driving you insane.

God, who would have thought you’d ever hear Geto Suguru moan against your ear by just looking, touching, squeezing your boobs? His eyes are darkened by lust, the way his heart pounds against his ribcage echoes through your very own body.

“You look absolutely gorgeous. I can’t stop looking at you, (y/n).”

You feel like flying, fainting, losing your balance. There is no doubt in the fact that this man adores you the way you are, that your constant fear of him not liking your large chest was more than unfounded.

“So…you don’t mind the way my breasts look?”, you whimper underneath his bittersweet touch.

“More than that, I adore you”, he replies in an instant. “And now, let me see you in your full glory.”

Yuji/Sukuna

You’re back feels like it might break every minute, shirt dripping in sweat in the sheer heat of the summer sun. You just want to get out of here, away from those disgusting people, back into your dorm. How stupid it was to leave Jujutsu High on your own for a little stroll through the city. Without the protection of Maki or Nobara, without any good friend who shields you from all the unwanted looks your large chest attracts. While most people think it must be a blessing, it definitely is a curse to you 80% of the time.

Just like right now.

“Come on, I just asked for one grab!”, a guy shouts after you.

Out of instinct, you pick up your pace, not even daring to turn around. What did you even do to catch his attention? You gaze down at your breasts that uncomfortably bounce up and down in the way too tight bra you are wearing today. No, you did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s just these disgusting people who seem to see nothing but the size of your chest.

“Why would you want to touch her? She looks like a cow”, the girl next to him comments along with an ugly laugh, making your heart sting in an instant.

“What a slut”, another voice mutters.

“Oh, I didn’t know you are out today! How are you, (y/n)?”

Your heart almost stops inside of your chest, hands beginning to tremble in an instant. No, not him. Not right here when these people are chasing you. If there’s someone you don’t want to hear those things about you, it’s Yuji Itadori.

“J-just…l-leave”, you stutter.

“Huh? But I just met you! Would you like to watch a movie with me?”

“Look, the cow brought her friends!”

“Do you think he’ll get in her pants today?”

“What a lucky bastard, I’d love to touch them just once…”

Yuji’s face drops in an instant when realizing their words are directed towards you.

“Hey, there’s no need to be rude”, he begins but gets stopped by uncontrollable laughter immediately.

You want to die right here on the spot, disappear from the surface of earth. As if being treated like this wasn’t enough, why does it have to be Yuji who witnesses it all?

“Step aside, loser. Let me handle that.”

Sukuna leans forward in his throne, thick anger rising inside of his chest. You, the one who caught his eye when he first saw you. You, with the immense powers. You, with a dangerous mind that could end wars. Who are these people to talk to you in this manner?

“Are you crazy? I definitely won’t let you out right now”, Yuji replies in an instant.

“You aren’t able to help her brat, now get lost!”

“I won’t let you-“

Enough.

“Now who exactly do you losers think you are, huh?”

That voice, that aura? Your mouth feels dry like the desert in an instant, eyes widen in pure shock. No, this is impossible, Yuji is in control over his body, this can’t be-

“With tits like yours, I would be jealous of someone gorgeous like her as well”, he spits at one of the girls following you.

“And you.”

With a swift motion, he grabs on of the guy’s wrists roughly. Just a little more pressure and it will snap.

“P-please. Don’t!”, you shout after him.

Urgh, why does your begging voice make his grip loosen in an instant, what is it about you that made him switch with this brat anyway?

“Were you really just trying to touch her chest? Thinking just because she has a big chest, you are allowed to touch her, to sexualize her, huh? You humans disgust me with your simple desires”, Sukuna continues.

“If it wasn’t for her unshakable character, I would kill every single one of you right on the spot. But for now-“

In the matter of seconds, all their arms hang in unhealthy directions, visibly broken by the sheer force of none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

You want to scream at him, want to run away, want to get away from this place. But on the other hand, a warmth fills your chest. Did the king of curses just stand up for you, protect you from their rude comments?

“Get going”, he barks at you.

“This was unnecessary”, you mumble.

“And give Yuji back.”

“You should be thankful, (y/n). They will worship you for the rest of your life.”

“No, they will be scared of you for the rest of their lives”, you clarify, hands still trembling.

“So what? Nobody gets away with insulting you over your perfect body. Especially not over the size of your chest. How ridiculous…”

You can’t believe your ears, eyes darting towards him in an instant while you turn redder than a tomato. Did he just say that you are…perfect?

“You didn’t mean that”, you breathe out.

“Oh god I’m so sorry (y/n). Did he hurt you?”, the familiar voice of Yuji cries out.

Calm down your tingling nerves, your pounding heart. Sukuna’s gone. Sukuna…stood up for you. Sukuna said you have a perfect body.

What?

“N-No”, you stumble.

How are you supposed to get over this?

Gojo Satoru

Finally. You sit in front of the bar, excited by the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume that hangs in the air. After working your ass off for what felt like an eternity, you decided to use your day off right. You put on the dress that fits you best, packed your purse and went into the first bar you’ve seen.

Damn, when was the last time you were out on your own? With all your friends being out of town for vacation, this definitely is new.

“Not bad”, you mutter to yourself, eyes roaming around people making out, heartfelt laughter and a group of women sipping on their cocktails.

A cocktail, exactly what you need today.

“Hey, I’d love to order something”, you speak out when the waiter finally comes cross you.

What a lucky day, they even have your favourite cocktail in store. You’re usually not the type of girl to go out on yourself, but these last months, you truly learnt how enjoyable time can be with yourself as your only company. You smile to yourself. Yeah, this is definitely something you could get used to.

“There you go”, the friendly male announces and places the glass filled with joy in front of your hungry eyes.

You gift him the sweetest smile you have before taking a sip. Oh, this tastes absolutely amazing.

“I’ve never seen a woman like you alone in a place like this.”

Your heart drops to the floor in an instant, hands holding onto your glass tightly. Ew, a man is certainly the last thing you want to hear right now with the bartender being the only exception. Instead of even looking his way, you just take another sip of your well-mixed cocktail, the music blasting out of the boxes might make him think you can’t hear him and leave.

Honestly, there aren’t many things that creep you out more than men approaching you. Since you’ve reached puberty and your breasts starting to grow bigger and bigger, it almost felt as if you weren’t a person anymore. With rare exceptions here and there, most of them only talked to you because of one thing:

Your boobs.

Is the man sitting next to you one of them?

“Hey, I’m talking to you, gorgeous.”

Your whole body tenses up in an instant, eyes darting towards him by the sound of his harsh voice.

“Excuse me, I’m not up for a talk”, you bite back.

While you did meet genuinely nice men and have some male friends, the one sitting next to you certainly is one of the other categories. God, how much you hate it, being looked down at and reduced to the size of your breasts. You can’t even count how many times you’ve got commented on them, how many men and women just shamelessly stared at your bust instead of your face while talking to you. It’s safe to say you have enough of all of this.

“A woman who presents what she has like that is up for a talk and far more than that. Why would you come here dressed like a slut if you don’t want me to talk to you?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, all thoughts vanish into thick air. This disgusting guy with his beard filled with crumbs and breath stinking like the cheapest beer is definitely up for no good. You, dressed like a slut? You wear a basic black dress, the only one your boobs didn’t fall out when trying it on. What the hell is this creep talking about?

“Just because my boobs are big doesn’t mean I’m a slut. Watch how you talk to me”, you bite back.

“I talk however I want to a bitch like you. Are you up to go somewhere more…private?”

The scene that lays itself out in front of Gojo’s eyes is hard to bear. He doesn’t even know the woman in the black dress sitting in front of the bar, let alone the guy sitting next to her. But just one look into your disgusted face is enough to know that something isn’t right. How you cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes filled with horror, the way you scoop backwards with every word this man says. Are you okay? He shouldn’t let other people’s business bother him. Fuck, wasn’t he here to get his mind off saving everyone all the time? Nah, he should enjoy his evening, drink that new whiskey they offer, just relax and-

You aren’t even able to comprehend what is happening next to you. He stretches out his hand, ready to touch your breasts without consent when another pair of hands stops him mid-air.

“I think the lady said no. Don’t ya think it’s a little over the top to go into a bar and touch a woman’s boobs?”

His voice might sound playful, but your blood freezes inside of your veins by the power he radiates. Just one glance into his face tells you he is like no men you’ve ever met.

“I…She…She said she wanted it to!”, the crumble beard tries to defend himself.

“I said what? Are you out of your fucking mind!? I told you to leave me alone and you harassed me!”, you clarify in harsh tone.

Oh, how much you’d love to break his nose right now, to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the white-haired man seems to have the same plans.

“A guy like you wouldn’t end up with her anyway. That lady has class. And you, my friend, are just a disgusting pervert. Are you touching other women too without consent? Isn’t your first time, huh?”

With a swift motion, he begins to twist the man’s hand around itself. He whines out in pain in an instant, face twisted just like yours before when he talked you down.

“Let me go!”, he cries out in visible discomfort.

“This is what you get for treating a lady so badly. You can be glad she even looked your way.”

When he gifts you a sly grin, you can’t help but blush. What is it about this man that feels so different, so damn inviting? He seems like no other men you’ve met before. And the fact that he just called you lady…Why do your knees suddenly feel weak?

“Now repeat after me: I.am.sorry.for.disrespecting.you.”

“I will not apologize to a girl who’s dressed like a slut!”

A loud crack makes the already muted room go completely silent, the violent scream coming out of this man’s mouth when his wrist breaks like spaghetti echoing through the room.

“Wrong answer”, the white-haired man purrs.

“Hey, would you mind just taking the trash out?”, the barkeeper questions.

“Did you hear that, dirty boy? Let me show you the way!”

“Are you alright? I didn’t even notice he was harassing you. I’m so sorry”, the bartender speaks out towards you.

“Oh, it’s okay.”

You aren’t even able to give him a real answer, eyes glued on the white-haired man who carries your harasser out like trash.

Like in trance you get back on your feet and follow him out into the cool air of the night.

“Have a nice evening!”, he friendly shouts after the man who sprints down the streets like a coward, as fast away as possible.

“You definitely scared the shit out of him”, you comment.

“He definitely deserved it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m used to shit like that”, you reply with a huff.

“But normally, they aren’t this disgusting.”

“I hate to hear that. You seem like a genuinely badass and nice person. You didn’t deserve his words.”

“Not as nice as my knight in shining armour who stopped him from touching my boobs.”

He lets out a heartfelt laughter, bright blue orbs set on you.

“Hey, what about me escorting you back home? I’m totally in the mood to beat up any other men who gets in your way.”

“Only if you let me join, though”, you challenge him.

“Definitely a deal. Hey, what’s your name?”

“(y/n)”

“(y/n), huh? Cool name, suits you right? My name’s Gojo Satoru. Nice to meet you.”

He stretches out his hand in front of you, inviting you to take it. You can’t help but smile at his sheer excitement. No, you just have to take his warm hand into yours and shake it.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

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Dividers by @saradika 🤍

[ebodebo]

Your stalker is Simon, but he never goes too far. Gives you calls, stays a distance away from you to keep you safe at night or whatever, he leaves you notes when your mental health is going bad, reminding you to eat or drink water or like to drink your meds? Sorry if it's a bit weird :3

Number One Fan

—thinking about stalker!simon riley…MDNI

It was late, eleven or so at night, as you trudged into your house. Your dick of a boss was being a pain in the ass about office hours, so you stayed later to hopefully get in his good graces and get that overtime check.

You set your keys on the table at the entrance, wiping your tired eyes as you hung up your coat. You walked into your room, noticing a neatly folded piece of paper on your nightstand. You halted, feeling a sense of uneasiness, before gently stepping to grab the note, deeply sighing as your eyes scanned over the words etched into the paper.

Take your vitamins, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, now would we? Also, no more alcohol. Bad for you.

- G

You had a stalker. Well, have had one for the past two months or so. It’s strange, really. The guy can get in and out of your house with ease, but he doesn’t ever take anything. He just leaves notes reminding you to take your medication and calls when you have a terrible night.

You called the police the first time you found a note, but they said they couldn't do much since it wasn’t a direct threat to your health, so you stopped calling them. Initially, you thought the guy would get bored of you and leave, but sixty-ish days later, you are still getting his ominous notes and calls.

It was looking like you had attracted a nester.

You grabbed the tainted paper and stuffed it in your side table drawer, along with all the other numerous notes he had left you. Turning on your heels, you walked back into your kitchen, reaching to grab a fresh bottle of wine. There was nothing like a little bit of liquid courage to take the edge off.

As you poured the wine into your glass, your home phone rang, startling you to where you had spilled some of your wine on the counter, causing it to leak down your wooden cabinets below.

“Shit,” you curse, grabbing a wad of paper towel and setting it in the red to soak up as you walk over to the phone.

“Hello,” you answer, voice a little agitated.

“Left you a note,” the gravelly voice said, making the hairs on your neck stand. It was him—your stalker. You gripped the phone tighter, wrapping the coiled cord around your pointer finger.

“Thought I wrote no more alcohol,” he says sternly.

“I told you to stop calling this number,” you muttered.

“Just checkin’ up,” he urged.

“Well, don’t,” you hissed, feeling a slight numbness to your pointer finger as you pulled the cord tighter.

“Boyfriend isn’t treating you well,” he says knowingly. Your eyes widen. He was right. Your boyfriend was a major douche, but you’d been dating him since high school, so you felt this odd sense of obligation to continue being with him.

“He’s…fine,” you say, though your voice carries hesitation.

“That so?” He smugly questions.

“Yes. You need to lose this number,” your voice is assertive and strong. Maybe he’d finally take the hint.

“He can’t even make you come.” He was right, again. Let’s just say your boyfriend mainly caters to his urges and needs, leaving you to pull out your vibrator in the middle of the night and take care of it yourself.

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head again. You part your lips to speak but are unable to make any words come out. You find yourself genuinely dumbfounded for the first time since he showed up.

“Tell me I’m wrong?” He urges in a low voice.

“I—he’s, he’s more than proficient in the bedroom, but that’s none—” you lie, unsure of why you felt the need to defend your boyfriend to a random guy before he cuts in.

“I could make you come and not even touch you,” he lazily says, words oozing in confidence. You loathed how his words shot straight to the spot between your legs. God, what the fuck were you doing? Getting all worked up over your stalker, who you couldn’t even fucking see. Maybe you were just as crazy as him.

“You couldn’t,” you assert, trying to keep your tone strong, but he could hear it. The needy strain it held. He let out a rough laugh. You wrapped the cord tighter around your finger and saw it turn a pale white.

“Let me see those pretty tits he gets to see,” he encourages. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth coming out to sink into the flesh of your bottom lip, piercing the skin a little making coppery liquid coat your tongue.

Your conscious is telling you that you shouldn’t be doing this, you had a boyfriend, and this guy was insane, but the little devil on your shoulder told you to pull your tits out and make him put his money where his mouth was, which overrode your better judgment.

You could hear his deep breaths rasping over the phone when you uncoiled your hand from the cord, skimming up your stomach to the dip of your breasts, gently unclasping your bra, and pulling it out from the bottom of your shirt.

You hesitate a moment before you grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side. You were now bare from the stomach up, awaiting his response.

“Wish I could take one of em’ in my mouth. Give em’ a nice squeeze while you ride my cock,” he rasps. You gasp, finding yourself bringing a hand up to caress a breast gently.

“But, this is about you. I’ll make you feel good,” he assures, his voice husky as he watches you play with your breasts.

“Okay,” you find yourself choking out, breathless.

“Pull your shorts down,” he commands. You oblige, slipping your shorts and panties down, dropping them so they both hang around your ankles, revealing your bare cunt.

“Christ. Fuckin’ perfect pussy,” he gruffs. You sink your teeth more deeply into the fat of your lip, feeling wetter as the seconds pass.

“Let me see you touch yourself,” he says. “Go on.”

You take your hand caressing your breast and bring it to your slit, carefully dragging your pointer and middle fingers up and down where you ache. Your lips part as you let out little breathy noises that have the guy nearly coming in his pants.

“Doin’ so good,” he lazily says. “Sink them in.”

You moan into the phone as you sink your fingers deeper into you, grazing your sensitive clit. Swirling and pumping in and out, spewing lewd moans that go directly into his ear that have him heavy breathing.

However, you change positions so your hand presses against the wall for support, shifting the phone to smush against your cheek and muffling your voice.

“Can’t hear you,” the rumbled voice says through the phone, making you lean more into it, wanting to feel his voice on your skin.

“Need to hear you, or I won’t let you come,” he states matter-a-factly.

“Fine,” you grit, taking your hand off the wall to correctly grasp the phone so he can hear all your mewls and moans as you continue pumping your fingers in and out of yourself.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised. You hate that the sentiment just made you impossibly wetter; your arousal covered your fingers, but he wasn’t done yet. He had made you a vow, and he intended to see it through.

“Faster, faster, faster.” You quickened your pace, following his directions—so obedient. The pace quickly turned into a feeling you had only ever been able to give yourself, but on a different level. It made your skin itch with desire. It was a mix of euphoria and nirvana—something people only prayed they could reach.

It was taboo, and unethical, and wrong. Maybe that’s what made it feel so good. Knowing it was immoral. Maybe it was the massive adrenaline rush you were getting. Or perhaps the dopamine being shot through your body. Honestly, you really didn’t give a shit what it was, you just knew it felt so fucking good.

You felt that familiar toe-curling tightness in your lower stomach, signaling your climax. Moaning so loud as your arousal coated your fingers as your body violently shook, almost knocking you off your feet and onto the hardwood floor.

Once you felt your high diluting, you gripped the phone tighter, issuing a quiet “hello” to see if he was still there. He was silent for a moment before finally speaking, his voice hoarse.

“Clean up your mess.” Was all he said before abruptly hanging up, leaving you to stand with a cold hand as the air brushed against your soaked fingers. But, you did as you were told, sticking your fingers in your mouth as you sucked them clean of any remnants of yourself. Doing just as you were told because you are not anything if not an excellent listener.

a/n: sorry if you didn’t want smut, but this was just such a hot idea…also, i don’t condone cheating unless it’s with simon riley xx

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[moondirti]

I have to ask about the sheep reader bc my god your brain is so wrinkly and now the images won't leave my head ahhhh love your writing so so much

hybrids. manipulation. brief smut. referenced neglect

it was that or cult leader price which i feel like has been done before so,,, idk man. something about sheep girl! reader being gifted to him by a hybrid averse neighbour, trussed up in the back of their pickup, soft belly up, eyes quivery and wet with tears. though he does not need an addition to his flock — certainly not one that would require extra care — he notices the abrasions sectioning your bare patches of skin (consequence of crowding in with the more animal individuals of your kind), and chubs up upon realising how easy it would be to soft-soap you into submission.

all it takes is a bit of kindness. he herds you into his home, bathing you in a galvanised steel tub with shampoo made for human women. his hands are large and rough, work-worn, but they weave into your wool gently as to not tug on the knots that have accumulated with neglect. you bleat in the novel attention, peering up at him shyly when he works the soap down your back, cupping between your legs to make sure he gets the dirt spoiling your privates.

freshly clean, you’re a pretty thing. round in the most mouth-watering places, teeth healthy upon inspection, plump lips perpetually cast in a pout. price goes so far as to tell you while he detangles your hair with an animal comb, petting your bare cheeks to feel the way they warm. loveliest lamb i’ve ever had the pleasure of caring for. set to be my favourite, at this rate. the most special.

that’s what the collar he buckles ‘round your neck seems to argue, too. fashioned himself out of full grain leather, dyed pink, antique buckle making a sturdy hook for the bell he will eventually procure.

you give in like he’d brought a meat tenderiser down on your flesh. pull apart like a well-cooked feast, unspooling all your ripe sentiments on his lap. as he sups on lamb chops — seated on his arm chair with you by his feet, making you suck his fingers clean — he tells you what to expect in your new home. the schedule, the other animals, your place within it all. you will not be given this treatment daily, yet it does not mean he loves you any less. most winter days, he’ll lay a bed of straw in the barn, assuring you that it’ll be away from the rams and their meddling horns, and come to check in on you when you can. that way, you’ll make friends who can keep you company while he’s busy.

and the way you nod, nose twitching under his heavy palm, hesitant but so trusting of the only kindness you’ve ever known — he can’t help but skip a few steps. promises you that if you get along with everyone well enough, if you’re good, he’ll reward you with a nice bath, trim, and private meal weekly. it’s the right thing to say, too, because your hips jut excitedly at the suggested luxury. just one taste of it and you’re so easily conditioned.

he can’t imagine how eager you’d be if he were to give you more. more; like fondling your doughy pussy as he is so tempted to do, kneading until you’re sloppy and soaked through your wool. like giving you a taste of climax, fingers foraging expertly within your walls, stretching your hole out to eventually supplant them with his cock. you’d move so well underneath him, fluffy and malleable, legs moved up and out of the way to press against your teats. if he knows anything, he knows sheep acquiesce to handling like butter to the knife. he could bend you, tie you, pick you up in whatever way he sees fit, and you’d take it. all he has to do in return is make you squirt messily onto the soft grass, and pump you full of his seed until you cannot clean yourself out without the help of his hand and a hose.

all in due time.

[antiwhores]

omgg i saw u did an alpha bakugo and was wondering if you could do reader with a cat quirk that means so goes into heat and she has to leave class and go hide in her room because its so strong and she ends up finding a peice of bakugos clothes and she ends up masterbaiting with it then he walks in on her (cuz he got worried)

❤️❤️🫶🏻🫶🏻

Clearing out my asks (because I forgot about them) :P

It was a horrible day for you. You should’ve known you were about to go into heat.

First, you woke up way earlier than you needed to be up soaked in sweat. Then you had to get up and take a cold shower because you were sill burning up.

By fourth period, you knew what was going on when you walked by Bakugou. His scent almost made you crumble to your knees.

You tried to power through it but everything you did was sloppy. You couldn’t pay attention in class for the life of you. You kept having to take bathroom breaks too. You got your ass kicked in training with Bakugou, more than usual, because everything he got close you fumbled.

“Oi, the hell is wrong with you?” he’d ask with a mean look.

“Nothing!” You snapped. It wasn’t like you.

Bakugou, your bestfriend / crush wasn’t the only one who noticed your antics. Aizawa ended up sending you back to the dorms because he realized what was going on.

As you were walking back, heaving from the burning in your body, you noticed one of Bakugou’s sweaters laying in the commons. Without another thought, you swiped it up and ran to your room.

You got to work until a knock was heard. You checked the time, it had already been 3 hours?!

“Open up ya damn feline.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth to hold back the whine that threatened to escape, quickly pulling your pants and shirt on just incase.

“Go away!” you manage to yell out.

“Open the door in three or I’ll break the fucker down!”

You fully believed him, by the time he got to two you had the door creaked open. You only planned on opening it a slither but he forced himself in.

“Is that my sweatshirt?”

You wanted to cry, so you did. You cried and you told him everything about your quirk and how you were sorry about stealing his stuff but he smelled so good and you needed something to alleviate the pain.

He doesn’t say a word as he closes the door behind him. He picks you up from where your slumped on the ground and sets you on your bed.

You almost choke as he starts to unbuckle his pants.

“You should’ve just said so, fuckin’ dumbass.”

[guiltyasdave]

just close your eyes

chapter 3 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.2k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury, implied death of a character, the angst is ANGSTING in this one

a/n: once again, i can't thank that jackson joel pedro photo enough for the inspiration that it's brought me. i hurt my own feelings with this chapter, and truth be told, it's gonna get worse from here.

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

Over the following days, something of a routine forms between the three of you. 

Joel spends most of his time resting, asleep more often than not, the shape of him on your couch a picture that you grow familiar with. But as his fever goes down and the skin around his injury is less red than when you first laid eyes on it, you allow yourself the tentative hope that you might have been able to actually save him. 

You’re becoming less skittish around him, getting used to his rather gruff demeanor, slowly realizing that what Ellie said was indeed true, it’s not about you. You come to think he just doesn’t like needing and accepting help.

Ellie follows you around like a puppy, eager to soak up every scrap of knowledge that you can share with her. It’s not much, you think, mostly cooking, the task of turning supplies into various meals, given the limited resources that you have in this world. You like having her around, the almost constant stream of chatter and questions never annoying you.

It fills your usual silence, helps keeping you grounded in the present. Most of the time.

Now that you have company, it becomes painfully obvious to you how much time you spend in your head, just sitting and staring straight ahead, lost in your thoughts, oblivious to the time passing. You have taken to having a book open in your lap, to make it seem like you’re reading, but you find yourself looking down at the page without seeing it, not sure when you last turned it. 

It’s not what they would have wanted, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake yourself out of it. Well, it’s not like anything happened the way we wanted, the bitter voice in your head answers.

If Ellie or Joel notice, they don’t ask about it. You hear their voices in the night sometimes, both of them sleeping in your parents’ bedroom now, since the couch was starting to hurt Joel’s back. 

You don’t lock your door anymore, leaving it ajar, just like them. The thought of someone else being down here with you is soothing you, the fear of them being a possible threat basically nonexistent at this point. Instead, a different kind of fear sets in. 

They haven’t talked about where they are going, but you know that they’re not gonna stay forever. Once Joel is completely healed, and winter has given way to spring, they’ll most likely be off again, leaving you on your own again. You don’t want to grow attached, but it’s difficult not to, while being with other constantly. 

You and Joel are taking longer to warm up to each other than you and Ellie have, but you’ve gotten used to having him around you. It’s a quiet, but trustworthy, reassuring thing, his presence in your space. Now that he’s healing, he’s someone who you trust to take responsibility, to take care of things if needed. You’re not sure how you know, but you’re certain that he is.

One evening, Ellie finds the DVD collection that’s stashed away in the cabinet under the small TV in the corner of the room. You hadn’t watched anything in forever, not sure if it’s even still working, but her enthusiasm makes it impossible to turn her down. 

Even Joel pipes up at the prospect of a movie night, crouching down next to her to sift through the DVDs. They’re both drawn to the shitty action movies – usually not your preferred taste, but you find the corners of your mouth lifting when they both turn around simultaneously, looking for your approval of their choice. 

Joel pushes himself back up with a grunt, pressing the button on the TV and making it spring to life without issue. You settle deeper into the couch cushions, pulling a knitted blanket over yourself as you watch the opening credits play. 

It’s so comfortable, so normal, and you want to get lost in the feeling in a way that makes your heart ache. Ellie sits down beside you to share the blanket while Joel stretches his legs out on the other couch. A smile is tugging at his lips when he catches you looking at him, but it can’t hide the wariness in his eyes, mirroring your own. It’s the feeling of things being too good to be true, the fear of nothing good ever lasting, of the world crashing down around you again, that always accompanies you, and without asking, you know that he feels it too. You cast your eyes back to the screen, trying hard not to get yourself lost in the fear, but to enjoy the moments of peace while they last. 

Ellie loves the movie, her eyes wide at every action-packed sequence, gasping at every explosion. At one of the more absurd scenes, you can’t contain the burst of laughter that bubbles up your throat. You’re unexpectedly joined by the deeper rumble of Joel’s, a sound that you haven’t heard before. 

You glance at him, to find his eyes already on you, an emotion in them that you can’t place. Neither of you say a word, both quietly returning your eyes to the TV. 

When you’re lying in bed later that night, you still feel the smile on your face. 

While your closeness with Ellie came quickly, almost taking you by storm, it’s a quiet, slowly growing thing with Joel. 

It begins with him lingering in the kitchen when you’re preparing the morning coffee, asking you questions about the place, about keeping supplies, electricity, the safety measures. He helps you with cooking, grumbling about giving something back when you protest. 

He’s gruff, no comparison to Ellie’s lively chatter and endless questions, and it makes you nervous at first. But you get used to him, his more quiet demeanor, his dry humor. You can tell that he’s trying hard not to scare you again, avoiding sudden movements or getting loud, and while you appreciate it, you also can’t help but wonder how broken you must seem from the outside. 

He doesn’t ask prying questions about your past, how you’ve come to live here all alone, though you have to imagine that he’s curious. You don’t ask him about his either, even if you do wonder how he and Ellie ended up together. It’s a quiet mutual understanding and you’re grateful for it. 

You have to believe that he had his fair share of loss in his own life, that the both of them had; an inescapable reality at this point in the world’s history.

It’s like a silent camaraderie when he catches your eye as Ellie is reading out puns to the both of you once more, rolls his eyes in a way that still holds so much love for the girl next to you, but that fills you with the urge to giggle. It stops you in your tracks the first time it happens, the sensation so unfamiliar to you that you can’t place it for a second. 

When you smile at him, the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as well, before he huffs an exaggerated sigh at the joke that you just heard. It riles Ellie up, just like he wanted to, you suspect. But you block out her bickering at him, busy with your own thoughts. One thought in particular, one that you haven’t had about anyone since you were a teenager. 

Joel is kind of pretty when he smiles.

The both of them have also taken to working their way through the bookshelf that’s taking up most of one of the walls. It’s mostly guidebooks on hunting, gardening, self defense, anything that your father deemed possibly useful. Over time, you had added books from your old bedroom, the one upstairs, that you had hastily carried down the stairs, hoping for the familiar words to give you a sense of normalcy in a world where nothing was normal anymore. 

Joel sometimes talks to you about them, asking your opinion on which ones to read, discussing their contents with you. Over time, you realize that he does it when you’re zoning out, pulling you back into reality with the drawl of his low voice next to you. You’re thankful for it, not used to being cared for like this, but also mortified that as it seems, he does notice when you’re too deep inside your head.

It’s one of those afternoons, you’re just about to start preparing dinner, when Ellie asks if you have more books somewhere, about something cool. “Like what?” you reply, an easy smile on your face. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, “like comics, maybe? Ohh, or something about space?” 

It takes a moment before the words register, before they form a picture in your mind, the memory of exactly what she’s asking for. You stop in your tracks, frozen on your way to the kitchen. Your toes dig into the carpet beneath your bare feet. A faint trembling starts in your hands and slowly spreads through your body. 

Ellie says your name, an edge in her voice. You’re not sure what your face looks like. 

Your wide eyes find hers, looking up at you from where she was spread out on the floor, her hair splaying out over the scratchy rug, one of your books held over her head. You had joked about how that position couldn’t be comfortable a few minutes ago. 

You see Joel from the corner of your eye, slowly raising to his feet from the couch cushions. It feels like you can’t breathe, like you’re sucking in air but it doesn’t reach your lungs. 

A large, warm hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump. Joel rubs soothing circles over your back, your name a low rumble on his lips. 

“It’s– it’s not a problem if not,” Ellie murmurs, sitting up slowly, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, uncertainty written over her features. 

You force a shuddering breath in, using the sensation of Joel’s hand splayed over your back to ground yourself. Nodding your head, you will your voice to travel up your throat. 

“Yeah no, I– just a second.” 

Joel repeats your name, more questioning this time, but you ignore it, feet carrying you into the bathroom where you quickly shut the door behind you. Skin stretching over your knuckles, you stand over the sink, gripping its edges to stay upright. 

It’s what he would have wanted. He would have been so happy to share them. It’s true, you know what. 

You’re not sure what’s worse. Going in there yourself, crossing the threshold of a room that you haven’t entered in years, haven’t even opened the door to, or letting someone else do it, let them disturb the memory of a reality that you’ve tried to preserve in there. Too painful to touch, but too important to let go of. 

Steeling yourself, you return to the living area. Ellie and Joel are sitting close to each other, both of their heads flying up at the door opening. It’s obvious that they have been talking about you. You bite your lip. 

Ellie rises to her feet slowly, takes a tentative step toward you. “Listen, it’s not that important really–” She sounds like she’s talking to a skittish animal. 

You shake your head, not trusting your voice not to betray you. With a deep breath, you cross the room to the door beside yours. One of two that you keep firmly closed. 

It creaks on its hinges when you open it slowly, your hand shaking on the handle. You try not to look around, to keep your eyes closed to the truth that nothing changed in here, and yet everything changed. It’s stuffy, stagnant air that’s been untouched for too long, but it smells like him. Like he’s still here with you. 

You don’t see the unmade bed, still carrying the trace of the last time he got up, the stuffed lion beside the pillow. Don’t see the half finished drawings on the desk, or the mess of action figures in the corner. You grab the stack of comics from the nightstand, ignoring the way your vision blurs at the edges. Move on to the shelf, smaller than the one in the living room, blindly picking out random books. 

When you step out of the bedroom, quickly pulling the door shut behind you again, neither Joel or Ellie have moved. You can’t meet either one’s gaze, don’t want to see the expression in their eyes.

Ellie takes the stack of books from your outstretched hands, murmuring a thanks, and you sense that there are more words on the tip of her tongue. Questions, apologies, you don’t know and you don’t want to. 

Turning on your heels, you escape into your own room, closing the door as quickly as you can before you collapse on your bed. Tears flood your eyes in time with the memories flooding your head, threatening to pull you under and drown you under their waves. 

You hear their muffled voices through the door, but neither of them comes to disturb you. You’re thankful for it, not needing anyone to witness you in this state. Eventually, you drift off into sleep, your mind gladly giving way to unconsciousness.

The following night is the first time that Joel has to shake you awake from a nightmare.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[wildwestdean]

repose

based on a request made by @chevroletdean! 🤍

a/n: this is a repost, because i tried to edit the main post when half asleep but my dumb ass deleted it instead 😭

summary: you catch a cold while out on a hunt with dean. you refuse to take it easy once back at the bunker, so he takes matters into his own hands to try and help you recover - even if it means bribing you into finally getting some rest

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: some mentions of violence/mutilation in the beginning, established relationship, stubborn reader, reader puts her own health on the back burner, reader doesn't like to feel useless, reader won't take her meds, fluff, a touch of angst, minor swearing, protective dean, worried dean, dean goes full caretaker mode, dean just really loves reader, briefest mention of clothes being taken off, reader gets carried around, more fluff

Dean knew it was a bad idea. 

He knew he should’ve tried harder to stop you, but really, what was he supposed to do? The suspect was about to get away, and you were too stubborn in your ways once you set your mind to something. All he could do was watch as you ran out the door, quickly disappearing within the sheets of freezing rain that were falling while he cursed to himself. 

His first thought wasn’t a declaration of fear that the suspect might get a drop on you. No, despite your appearance, your skills were rivalled only by those of Sam and Dean themselves; they taught you everything you knew, after all. Instead, shockingly, the first thought to cross his mind was: she’s going to catch a cold. 

Hurrying after you, you two easily managed to apprehend the suspect to haul him back to the warehouse for questions, all while Dean grumbled about how you should’ve stayed put and let him deal with it; a rant that only earned him a roll of your eyes in return. You didn’t venture out very far, and while it did feel like you were soaked straight through to the bone, the warehouse was growing closer and would soon offer respite from the downpour - his worrying, like usual, would end up being over nothing. 

Yet the chill you were met with once back in the warehouse almost had you regretting your choice, and had it not been for the sickening grin you were given by the douchebag that Dean was currently tying to a rickety chair, you probably would have. You were convinced it was even colder in here than outside; but you refused to let Dean in on that fact.

He didn’t pick up on it right away, focusing solely on extracting the answers that were buried behind the soulless eyes he glared into. He always enjoyed taking his time when it came to things like this, letting the fear and dread settle in their hearts as he threatened to carve into skin or chop off extremities. It was fun, really, and he was enjoying it right up until you decided to pitch in, voicing your own threat of cutting off a very precious body part piece by little piece.

As soon as the words left your mouth, Dean took on a new sense of urgency to get the information you two needed. You could see it in every choice he made: how his pacing quickened, how his voice got darker and tighter while his patience drained away, how he stopped giving warning before his knife dove into flesh. 

You knew he was suddenly in a hurry to wrap this all up, but what you didn’t know was why. You didn’t know that when you spoke, Dean heard the waver in your voice, the quiet chatter of your teeth as you shivered from the cold. You didn’t think it was noticeable, but when it came to you, there was nothing Dean wouldn’t notice. 

With the increase of effort and decrease of delicacy, it wasn’t much longer until Dean finally got what he needed, and he plunged his knife through skin and muscle one final time before eagerly leading you from the warehouse.

“Wait here,” he requested, gently tugging you back just before you could step outside. 

“What, why?” you asked, silently amazed at how warm his palm felt on your arm despite being just as drenched as you were. “We need to finish up.”

“Just wait here,” he repeated, running out into the darkness before you could even reply. 

Left confused in his wake, all you could do was stand there and wait for him to return, trying to ignore the way your whole body wanted to tremble in response to the frigid air. You really, really longed for a hot shower right now, and the fact you knew you needed to dispose of this body somewhere out in this storm made tears threaten to spill over onto your still dampened face. 

The sight of Baby’s headlights cutting through the curtain of rain was like a breath of fresh air to you, and you yearned to just curl up on her front seat while the heat blasted from the dash. 

“One step at a time,” you told yourself. “Take care of the body, then you can warm up on the drive back.” 

Dean made it clear he had other plans in mind when he pulled up as close to the door as possible, leaving the engine running as he ran back over to you. 

“Heat’s on,” he declared, shaking some excess water from his jacket. “Lock yourself inside, I shouldn’t be too long.” 

“Too long doing what?” you asked, totally lost. 

He looked just as confused as you were, not understanding what you didn’t understand. 

“Getting rid of the body,” he declared after a moment, as though it were completely obvious. 

“You’re not doing that alone,” you argued in bewilderment. 

“Yes I am,” he argued back. 

“Dean-” you wanted to argue some more, but he cut you off by taking your face in his palms. 

“Even the screams couldn’t cover up the sound of your knees knockin’ together,” he teased. “Go wait in the car, baby. If you don’t go willingly, I’ll gladly toss you in.” 

You had the urge to say no, wanting to be useful and help him, but you backed down when you saw the look in his eyes.

“Fine,” you agreed, sighing in defeat. “But if you’re not back soon, I will be coming to find you,” you warned. 

Dean grinned in triumph as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Understood,” he confirmed, guiding you to the car before heading off to carry out his mission. 

It wasn’t until a few days later, when you finally made it back to the bunker, that you realized maybe Dean’s worrying hadn’t been over nothing after all. Despite having the heat cranked all the way up in every motel room, those worn down radiators could really only do so much. The piercing winds would seep through the meekly insulated windows, finding you even under the feigned safety of blankets and tight embrace of Dean; not to mention there being no way to avoid the icy blows whenever you made stops along the road. The sheer lack of sleep you got due to rushing back home seemed to be the final nail in the coffin, and your body was too exhausted to fight off the inevitable. 

It started as a tickle in your throat, which resulted in you continuously chugging back tea and honey; honey that Cas was extremely thrilled to provide you with. Dean was quick to notice you started doing this, and took it upon himself to bring you a mug whenever you were tied up with Sam and looking into some lore, or tirelessly helping Jack understand his latest discovery of the day. 

When the tickle in your throat developed into you having a full blown cough, he bought you your favourite cough drops, keeping an eye on them to make sure you didn’t run out. Though when they seemed to not be enough, he made sure to get you some cough syrup, too. 

He did his best to make sure you didn’t do too much, but asking you to take things easy was like asking a baby not to cry. It just wasn’t going to happen. You had the constant need to be productive, to be helpful. Feeling a little under the weather wasn’t going to change that. Him getting you to see a doctor was nothing short of a miracle, and the fact you were just about as stubborn as him was nearly ironic; he would laugh about it if he wasn’t so worried about you. 

His worry only magnified tenfold when he went to check on you one night, only to find your room empty. He tried convincing you to let him stay with you like usual, but you didn’t want him to get sick, too. He was really regretting not pushing back on that more, now that he found you in the library, lost in a pile of books; he had to take a breath to compose himself before speaking. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, approaching the table. 

“Research,” you croaked, eliciting another coughing fit. 

“Research?” he baulked. “For what? And why now?” 

You coughed once more, chugging down the rest of your tea before replying. “T’help Sammy. Couldn’sleep anyway,” you sniffled, words jumbled together from congestion.  

Dean sighed heavily, taking a seat beside you. “You didn’t even try to sleep, did you?” 

The lack of response from you told him everything he needed to know. 

“Alright, come on,” he announced, reaching for the book you were reading. 

Your reaction time was definitely slower than usual, but you still managed to pull the book out of his reach just in time. “No.” 

Knowing it would be a losing battle, and that it would probably cause more harm than good to just toss you over his shoulder and carry you to your room, he got up with a huff and left. You assumed he was angry, and felt a little guilty for upsetting him when he was just looking out for you, but you knew you were fine enough to carry on with this for a while longer.  

The last thing you currently expected was for him to return with a bowl of your favourite soup, leftover from when he made some for you earlier, and another large mug of tea, placing them on the free space in front of you before sitting back down. 

“If you wanna be helpful, then you’re gonna sit there and eat while I look for whatever the hell it is we’re looking for,” he ordered, easily snatching the book from you. 

“Fine,” you mumbled, picking up the spoon. “Bossy,” you added, hoping he didn’t see the smile playing on your lips as you feigned annoyance. 

He definitely did, but he kept it to himself as you gave him a cliff notes version of what you were looking into between spoonfuls of soup. 

You aren’t sure when it happened, but at some point between finishing the soup and drinking half the tea, you started to drift off; the warmth of his palm on your thigh and comfort of his soft rambling beside you lulling you to sleep. 

This time, Dean knew he would win the battle against you, and he carefully took you in his arms and carried you to bed, staying with you until morning.

Days had continued to go by, and you only seemed to be getting worse. Dean didn’t know what else to do and it was driving him mad - he couldn’t stand to see you like this anymore. 

He refused to take no as an answer now when it came to him doing things for you, and took over every task you tried to start. He followed you around, practically glued to your side, never letting you lift a finger and being a second pair of eyes when you did any research. 

Research that he tried to stop from coming in by threatening to break Sam’s legs if he didn’t quit bothering you for help, only to find out you were doing it of your accord. 

Even Jack had decided to stop coming to you for things until you were better, since he knew you’d never let him heal you.

Yet Dean knew it wasn’t enough. He knew you needed to just fucking lay down and rest. 

Waking up in the middle of the night to find your side of the bed empty once more, Dean stormed off towards the hub of the bunker as he shouted your name - he didn’t care if he woke everyone up at this point. 

He didn’t stop until he found you in the kitchen, frantically cleaning and completely unaware of his presence. 

“Baby?” he asked cautiously, hesitantly approaching you. 

“'m’not going back t’bed,” you told him, not even looking at him.

“Okay,” he said. “Why not?” 

“Too much t’do,” you replied simply, trying to breeze past him. 

“Hey, whoa,” he called, gently taking hold of your shoulders. “Look at me.” 

“I’m fine,” you said automatically, meeting his gaze after he forced your chin up.

He took note of your distant gaze and pale skin, practically burning under his touch. Suddenly, everything seemed to click into place. “You’re really not, sweetheart,” he determined, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You have a fever. Which means you haven’t even been taking your meds, have you?” 

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at his question, before you averted your gaze in guilt. “No.” 

Dean wanted to be mad at you. Well, truthfully, Dean was mad at you. You’ve been doing seemingly everything you could to prevent yourself from recovering, while Dean was trying as hard as he could to help you. He wanted to yell at you, but more importantly, he just wanted to understand. 

“Why?” he asked gently, softly running his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. 

“They make me groggy,” you told him.

“You mean they make you sleep,” he corrected, knowing what it was you wouldn’t say. “I don’t understand why you won’t let yourself rest.” 

You shrugged helplessly, feeling smaller than ever under his searching gaze. “I don’ like feelin’ useless.” 

“You’re not useless, baby. You’re sick,” Dean defended. 

“Still,” you said, not having a better argument. “I need t’help.”

“How about we make a deal?” he suggested, fully understanding how it feels to not want to lay around and not help with anything, all while everyone else seemed to scramble around.

“Like?” you wondered, lightly shoving him away so you wouldn’t sneeze on him. 

“Like,” he said, feeling more and more like this was the best idea. “You leave this mess as is, go take your medicine, and lay down with me.” 

“That’s not a deal,” you argued thickly. 

“I didn’t finish!” he said with a laugh. “You do that for me, and that disgustingly cheesy movie you love so much? Not only will I watch it with you from start to finish, but I won’t even make a single joke about it.” 

“But what about-” 

“Sam and I can handle the mess later,” he said with a sigh, already knowing what you would ask. 

“‘kay,” you sniffled. “Then deal.” 

“Good,” he grinned, not giving you a chance to change your mind and scooping you off your feet once more.

He made a stop at the bathroom first, so that he could help you freshen up and do your usual nightly routine. Lord knows he watched you do it enough times to know it step by step, and he was never more grateful for that than right now.

Once that was all taken care of, he took you to your room to get you fully settled for the night. He gently peeled off your lounge clothes to slip one of his clean sweatshirts over your head before tucking you into bed. He grabbed you a glass of water so you could take your medicine. He hunted down extra blankets to keep by the bed in case you got cold. He settled in beside you, setting up the movie as you nestled against his chest. 

It was barely even twenty minutes in by the time you were sleeping soundly in his arms. Dean smiled to himself, carefully landing a kiss on the top of your head as he carried on with the movie. 

He started to doze off about halfway through, and he knew in his heart that if this was the deal he’d have to make every night while you recovered, he’d gladly do so. There was definitely no shortage of these cheesy movies you loved, and there was nothing in the universe that mattered to him more than you and your wellbeing. 

Besides, even though he’d never admit, these romcoms you liked really weren’t half bad. 

taglist: @roseblue373, @redmaro86, @snowayumi, @iluvdeanwinchester, @winharry, @star-yawnznn, @jc-winchester

if you'd like to be added or removed from this list, please let me know!

(sorry for the double tag on this y'all, i'm stupid af lol)

[belovedivies]

along the wind (bodyguard!peter x f!reader)

・゜・summary: Peter has made his way to the top by defying the odds his whole life; barely anything fazes him at this point. Yet when a glimpse of normalcy comes into his life in the form of a girl whose presence he initially apathizes, the crack in the Apostle’s stoicism starts to show.゜・* ・゜・tags: reader-insert, pre-canon, pre-rejuvenated peter, slice of life, fluff, slow burn, eventual romance, (my poor) attempt at humor, friends to lovers, typical-canon violence (mostly referenced cuz i suck at writing fight scenes)゜・* ・゜・notes: this work has multiple chapters! also cross-posted on my ao3 <3 title is from a song called "fly away" by jang yoon ju.゜・*

chapter 1: white strawberry and mint. ・゜・chapter content: bashing/washing, brief mention of drug. ・゜・word count: 1,268 ♡masterlist♡

“Tch, stop squirming so much will you?”

"That's easy for you to say, you took my last xanax!"

Peter, very much irritated, decides to ignore those words as he drags the washcloth down your spine. You really thought Glory's greatest asset would want to be stuck here babysitting a grown-ass woman in her early 20s, huh? You'd better fucking think again; with how bizarre this unconventional live-in assignment has been and is still going, Peter's mental gymnastics constantly blow hot and cold between wanting to protect you and wanting to strangle you. Anything to make your perpetual complaining go away, honestly. But as nice as the thought of making you shut up for good, the Cathedral's order to keep you safe is final, and he is but loyal to the organization that made him the powerful man he is today.

So the Apostle sucks it up, a sigh leaving his lips as one big hand closes a little tighter around your waist.

"You're recovering," Peter continues, the authority colors his tone even as his touch on your soaked back is undeniably gentle, "and the last thing I need is another headache of you OD'ing over off-label pills."

You let out a sound that falls somewhere between a gasp and a yelp. "I'm not an addict, ok?" That half-assed excuse almost has Peter rolling his eyes in pure frustration, his displeasure threatening to bubble over when you flounder on his lap like a fish out of water. "They're just my sleeping aid-"

“Aid or not ,” he cuts you off mid-sentence, “it doesn’t change the fact that you pop three xans per meal and barely function without them.” The last of his impatient reprimand is accompanied by foam-covered linen spreading the Olay body wash over the skin of your belly. Peter’s nose crinkles slightly at the sickening sugary scents of white strawberry and mint that assault his nostrils, but the man decides to keep his mouth shut.

And much to his surprise, so do you.

He’s relieved at your lack of resistance, or at least no more bitter remark. A huff leaves your lips, then nothing. Good, the Apostle is sure if this goes on, he’ll be scrubbing your wrinkly skin raw. Peter sets the washcloth aside and grabs the shower head, aiming the lukewarm stream of water at your body and clearing away the bubbles and remaining grime.

The water sloshes underneath your body as you draw up your legs; the tub isn’t small by any means, but Peter is aware of his size and how his large stature might be a little suffocating to you in terms of space. His grasp on your waist loosens, wanting to speed things up so you both can get out of here quicker. Yet the second the soap on your skin is washed away, the guy can't help but let his eyes linger on the scar on your lower thigh.

"What?" Peter hears you huff again, sounding uncomfortable despite your nonchalant expression. One of your hands moves down to conceal the healing wound, even if through the little cracks between your fingers, he can still make out the pinkish scar tissue.

"How are you feeling?" It's a genuine concern on his part.

"Um," your hesitation doesn't escape his notice, even palpably so when you start shifting awkwardly between his legs. Peter just wants to make sure, but he has no problem with dropping the topic if it irks you. That is what he thinks, but you finish the sentence, "better?"

So it doesn't hurt anymore, at least not as badly as it used to. The man lets out a low hum, then turns his head to hang the showerhead into its wall-mount bracket.

"No hair wash?" Are you serious right now? Peter rolls his eyes for real—an act he's very much acquainted with in the past six weeks living here—before facing you.

"No hair wash," there you go again with that annoying pout. Really makes him wonder how the hell you two are the same age, "I won't have you lazing around in here for more than 30 minutes."

Sensing an upcoming brainless argument, the raven-haired assassin stands up and walks out of the bath, taking you with him. He promptly ignores the way you yelp when one right hand grazes a ticklish spot on your nape to keep you still, instead reaching for two towels sitting on the sink. Peter wraps one of them around his waist and focuses on patting you dry with the other. There's a bored look on his face while you just stand there, grumbling under your breath about how you can do this on your own. Brat.

"Put this on." He draps the towel over your shoulders and hands you a fresh set of clothes for the night. Only when you take them does he start putting on his own; a moment of silence follows, save for the rustling of fabric. It’s oddly calming, and even though he has used to going through days without a wink of sleep, Peter feels his eyes getting droopy as he puts on his grey hoodie; the day’s exhaustion finally catching up.

You let out a yawn, putting your hand on his shoulder for support while you slip on a pair of cotton slippers. Now he just has to wait for you to finish up.

“Hey, Peter…”

“Hm?”

The guy looks over his shoulder when you call out his name. This time, you don’t meet his gaze, instead staring down on the floor as you scrawl with one foot.

”Sorry for my mini tantrum earlier.” You gulp, and was that shame he just heard? ”You were just trying to do your job…”

Peter cocks an eyebrow. He isn’t mad at you, per se—the smirk on his lips giving away his rare playfulness—more like the usual light-hearted annoyance (that makes him want to choke you due to how stubborn you are sometimes, but that’s out of the question). You’re still 97% better than most people the Apostle had encountered in his line of work, and that is to say out of the other 3% he didn’t fumble (or kill), you’re the girl who happens to fit the closest to society’s definition of normal.

Not that he cares about what people think, anyway.

“A-And I acted out like a child…” He’s half-expecting another sorry, but you keep your head down in silence. You must be waiting for his answer then, so the guy decides to give you an easy way out; the further teasing comment that is about to leave his mouth can be saved for another time.

”Aside from the occasional migraines you gave me,” Peter smiles, putting a hand on your head as he starts ruffling your hair. "you're not too bad yourself. Apology accepted."

You mirror his mirth, though only for a brief second. Schooling your expression into a mask of faux frustration, you huff and try to pry his hand off. “Right right, now stop would ya? You’re gonna mess up my hair!”

Again, sleep comes first. As fun as it is to taunt you, Peter needs to get you to bed. Tuck you in… is that what it is called? The Apostle mentally cringes at the term; Father Gabriel really did land him into babysitting his niece.

“Right… let’s go.” He settles for giving your head one last pat before motioning you to walk towards the door connected to your bedroom. The distance is short, but Peter knows you’ll be there when he turns around.

Tomorrow will just be another day.

[ace-of-zaun]

It’s Because:

Silco x gn!reader - 1k words - SFW

cw: fluff, angst, pining, denial of feelings, falling in love, brief mentions of death, injury, and trauma, happy ending

summary: Silco is not in love. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this before, i hope it works!! (it really hurt to type as well but my physio told me i had to.) inspired by the song i’m not in love by 10cc

Silco is not in love.

Unequivocally, categorically not in love. 

He doesn’t even know what love is when he meets you as a jaded, starving teenager, too busy trying to make ends meet to even think about something as trivial as love. But he does know that the easy way you smile when you meet his eyes makes his day just that little bit brighter. 

He’s not in love when he spots you a few years later, standing quietly amongst the meagre crowd in the bar, listening to his rallying speech of change and independence. Although, the spark in your eyes as you watch him is like a match to the burning in his chest, and for once in his life, it makes him feel alive. 

Silco isn’t in love when he accompanies you on mission after mission, learning to trust one another as he watches your back and you watch his in return, securing resources, and medicine, and meals for the starving children of his city. It’s just the adrenaline from the sprint back home, as you both narrowly escape the Enforcer’s clutches, that sets his heart racing to the dozen.

He can’t be in love when he watches you from across the bar, laughing, and singing, and dancing along to the jukebox, unaware of how effortlessly you light up the room. And so what if deep down he wants to join you and bathe in that light, soaking you in until you're his? It’s not like it means anything anyway. 

There’s no such thing as love on his birthday when he refuses to tell anyone the significance of the day, instead scowling down at yet another shipping manifest. Except, when you hand him a cupcake and kiss his cheek as you walk through the bar on your way to the market, he hopes the red of his ears and the longing expression isn’t too noticeable. 

Love isn’t present on the night you cry in his arms, heaving sobs that wrack your body as you mourn those lost in the fight, yet more casualties in this never ending fight for freedom. It’s simply the right thing to do when he lulls you to sleep, shushing your cries until your breathing slowly evens and your heart beats sync up with his. 

Silco tells himself he isn’t in love when you sit side by side, legs dangling off the little bridge that crosses the river as he gifts you a starburst necklace that once was his mother’s. And it certainly doesn’t mean anything when you gaze up at him with the softest smile, intertwining your fingers with his while you gently rest your head on his shoulder. 

He is not in love the day you stand with him in the little alcove across the street from the bar, sheltering from the rain that drips down to form galaxies of puddles along the square floor. You’re up on your tip-toes, his arm is around your waist, and when your nose bumps against his, his heart beats so loud he’s sure you can hear it-

But then his brother is suddenly there, pulling him away from you as he insists he goes for a walk with him, and Silco makes the worst decision of his life and agrees. 

In thunder and rain, Silco knows that love ends in nothing but betrayal when he is forced to disappear, body pulsing with pain, mind in tatters. He’s hurting, and angry, and beyond scared. But weaved in between it all, he thinks of you and pictures the way you looked and felt beneath his fingertips, and thinks that maybe it’s not all bad. 

There’s no time to think of love when, years later, he finally gets his revenge and reclaims his bar, his home; a second chance at raising the city his people deserve. Though, it’s almost like serendipity when he happens to take a break from arranging his schedule to look through the window down into the square, and there you are, standing in the middle of the street silently watching his workers carry in new furniture. 

He isn’t in love when he runs down to you, nearly tripping down the stairs in his haste, pushing through the doors until you’re right there in front of him, the only place he truly feels safe. But when you don’t scream or slap him or curse him for leaving you, instead striding across the distance to throw your arms around him in a tight embrace, he forces himself to choke back his tears and allows yours to soak into his shoulder instead. 

Silco continues to remind himself that he’s not in love in the coming months, while you sit beside him day after day, helping him put his plans into motion, listening to every word, every worry, every whisper. Really, who can even tell that his heart skips a beat when he spots that you’re still wearing his mother’s necklace, still so mirandous even after all this time?

He’s not in love the evening you sit atop the bar, laughing as you retell a story from your youth, caught delightfully off-guard when he can’t help but surge forward, capturing your lips while his hands cup your heated cheeks. It’s just one of those things, he supposes, to finally feel content standing between your legs, your own lips pressed in a smile against his, in a way that kick starts his once dead heart. 

But now, nearly two decades after he’d first laid eyes on you as a naïve boy, he lays next to you in bed and watches you sleep peacefully, tangled in the sheets the same way you’ve weaved yourself into his heart. And in the quiet lull of the night, he runs his fingers over a shiny, jewelled ring, custom-forged to match his mother’s necklace that still rests around your neck. 

He thinks of easy mornings and four-word questions, and for the first time in his life, allows himself to simply feel. 

Maybe, just maybe, Silco is in love. 

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can I ask for revenge for hurt s/o with fem reader and Thomas Hewitt, maybe reader is a neighbour to the Hewitt's and her and Thomas become close over time, and maybe their latest victims are there and reader goes over to the house as well, and it's an all fight between everyone but someone cuts reader bad and maybe Thomas sees red and she is the only one to calm him down, and then they kiss

.⋆｡Anything For You｡⋆.

Thomas Hewitt x plus size reader

Thomas has always been your sanctuary but now, he would be your protector too

Warnings: death of parents, fire, murder, friends to lovers, angst, getting stabbed, violence, knives, happy ending, protective!Thomas WC: 1.9k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You liked the quiet of your farm. Just you and your animals and the family across the way, it was peaceful. It was all you had ever known. 

Your family moved to Fuller when you were barely a month old, buying up a small farm on the edge of town in hopes of laying down some roots. Life was peaceful, at least until the town began to decay. Less and less children would enrol in school every year, less cars on the roads. Even the fire station shut down as the last family moved out from the city centre. And that led to the death of your parents.

A spark from a frayed cable in the basement landed on a pile of newspapers, setting them alight. It had been a dry summer, far more than usual, and there was no lack of kindling for the blaze. You chose to sleep in the barn that night, wishing to rest beside the newborn calves. Your parents had indulged your silly request, not realising that it would save your life.

You could vividly remember the smell of smoke as it bellowed out from the shattered windows of your home. The dogs howled from their kennels while you ran onto the dirt road leading to the Hewitt household. You banged on their door, begging for them to save your parents.

But even with Monty and Charlie doing their best to put out the fire, no help was coming. You were forced to watch from the comfort of Luda Mae’s arms as your entire world turned to ash.

You lived with the Hewitts for a long time after that, being that you had no other family, as the small farm house was rebuilt. By the time you were 19, you had a new home and a deep friendship with the younger Hewitt brother. Thomas had always been kind to you in the brief moments you had seen each other, but it became something more when you became a daily fixture in his life. 

He showed you how he did his chores around their own farm, took care of the animals and crops on yours when you could not bear to look upon the mound that used to be your home. And in turn, you treated him with more kindness than he had ever experienced. You never faltered at his appearance nor his size, in fact you always found ways to compliment him. You taught him to read and write, and later on, how to use sign language after your schooling ended, even if he only ever used it with you. 

You were his best friend and he was yours.

Perhaps that’s why he never encouraged you to leave as the rest of his family did.

Having finished your morning chores, you sat on the small porch in front of your house with a cup of tea and the book you had been meaning to read, eager to soak in some sun before the Texan heat rolled through. Just as you were getting to a particularly juicy section where the gentle giant farm hand had finally kissed the farmer’s daughter in the barn, a shrill scream cut through the faint buzz of the cicadas.

“What the-“ You tilted your head, waiting for another sound but none came. Leaning over your porch railing, you could just about see the edge of the Hewitt’s driveway and noticed their truck was missing as was Hoyt’s police car. A warm breeze rustled the wheat growing along your property line. 

A sour feeling gnawed at your stomach, urging you to grab your sunhat from its peg by the front door and take the short walk over to the dilapidated home. 

Thomas would be at work already and if Luda Mae wasn’t home, then neither would Charlie since his old age was starting to get to him. Maybe an animal had gotten hurt, you mused as if trying to convince yourself that the scream couldn’t have possibly been human.

“Hello?” The screen door was firmly shut but you couldn’t quite see anything in the dark hallway. You’d have to remind Luda Mae to open up the windows when she left the house for the day, again. 

The floorboards creaked as something moved around. You glanced over your shoulder, hoping to see Thomas’s hulking figure walking up the driveway to save you from having to go in and investigate. But alas, only a toad sat on the gravel, looking up at you with a bored expression, as much as a toad can have.

“If I get murdered, Thomas gets all my stuff.” You pointed at it before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

A coppery smell clung to the stale air, an almost constant of the home but today, it set you more on edge. After three years of living there, you could’ve navigated the house blindfolded but as you passed the switch, you flicked on the lights somehow hoping it would ease the twisting in your stomach.

“Hello?” You called again, passing by the kitchen, not noticing the now empty knife block. The basement door was open. “Hoyt I swear to god if this is you trying to be funny, I’ll kick your ass.” You glanced down the basement stairs, but only the single hanging bulb was visible in the dark. 

Just as you were turning to continue your search, something heavy threw itself into your chest, sending you down the steps. You slammed hard against the concrete floor, the air was ripped from your lungs violently as your ears began to ring. Footsteps thudded down the stairs. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as you tried desperately to breathe. 

“Get that rope.” You reached for the leg of Thomas’s workbench, your vision beginning to tunnel. A hand grabbed at your shoulder, forcing you onto your back. 

“She-she’s not one of them.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter! She’s here isn’t she?” 

“Please.” You wheezed but you were only met with a fist to your jaw. Your eyes rolled.

“C’mon we can make a run for it now. We don’t have to hurt her.” The voices were growing distant.

“Would you just shut the fuck… up.” The last word trailed off as something else caught their attention. You dug your heels into the floor in an attempt to push yourself away from the two voices. The ache in your stomach was starting to ease but you still couldn’t fill your lungs all the way. 

Darkness suddenly covered you as the light from the dining room vanished. “Please.” You tried again but you were only met with silence. Wood creaked and suddenly, you were hauled up. 

“Get any closer and I’ll slit her fucking throat.” The cold metal of a blade pressed itself against your neck. A bitten off whimper slid past your lips as the tip dug into your skin. Your vision began to clear as adrenaline rushed through your veins. A huge shadow loomed at the top of the stairs, silently watching as the two people holding you back panicked.

“Thomas.” You tried to reach out to him. You caught the glint of metal before he raised his arm and threw a meat cleaver directly into the forehead of the one that had tried to run. They dropped like a sack of potatoes, eyes wide with fear as the life quickly left them. 

“Shut up you stupid bitch!” Their hold on you got looser as Thomas took one step forwards. His eyes glinted with anger, a rage you had never witnessed in your gentle giant before. His hands were curled into fists so tight that his knuckles were white, his shoulders raised, making him look even bigger.

You could feel the body behind you trembling as he steadily got closer. “Stay back!” But their tone wavered. You were pulled backwards as Thomas reached the middle of the stairs. “I’ll fucking kill her!” 

As slowly as you could, you began to reach into your front pocket for the small knife you always kept on you. The one Thomas had given you on your 16th birthday. His eyes flicked to you at your movement. You hissed as the knife against your throat pressed in deeper, nicking the delicate skin.

A sound akin to a growl rumbled through the basement. “Thomas no-“ The words had barely escaped you when suddenly the knife was pulled from your neck and shoved into your side. Coldness exploded from the wound like you had been plunged into a frozen lake as your body fell forwards.

A scream echoed through the home but it didn’t sound like your voice. It was warped and all wrong. You fell against something solid but also somehow soft. Its warmth drew your mind back for a moment, just enough to watch as one of Thomas’ massive hands coiled around the other man’s throat and squeezed with all his might.

He thrashed and struggled but he was no match for Thomas. There was a crunch, and then he went limp, his head lolling strangely on his neck. Thomas dropped his body like it was a piece of trash before all his attention shifted to you. 

Your own body was shaking in his hold but you were the furthest thing from scared. With the same hand he had just used to kill someone, he pressed down on your side, stopping the bleeding as best he could. “It’s ok, you saved me Thomas.” He shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of his face. 

He eased you back onto the workbench making you wince as the first tinges of pain began to appear. “Thomas.” You reached for him but he stepped away from you and darted into the darkness of the basement. He was rummaging through something. You heard glass break while you clutched at your stomach. 

His lumbering footsteps returned and the bulb above you flicked on with a gentle hum. A bright red box was in his hands which he was looking through as he rushed back to you. “Talk to me.” You urged. He glanced at you then sighed heavily. 

Not yet, he gestured and pulled out a thick bandage. You let out a huffed laugh, letting him pull up your now ruined shirt to get access to the wound. His eyes narrowed before he let out a breath of relief. Not deep.

You bit down on your lip as he wrapped the bandage around your plush stomach, pulling it as tight as he could without causing you more pain than necessary. “Thank you for saving me.” He helped you to sit up, taking care not to put too much strain on you.

His bulk was all you could see now. He cupped your cheek, a move far bolder than you expected from the shy man. You nuzzled into his touch, unable to stop yourself. “You did so good Tommy.” He nodded and you finally smiled. His head dipped down as his eyes flicked to yours with a silent question, one you had been waiting for since you were 15. 

It was you who leaned in first, capturing his chapped lips in a kiss that was long overdue. He was frozen for just a second then melted into it, naturally meeting the soft push and pull of your mouth in a way that made your brain go fuzzy that wasn’t purely shock. He hesitated when he pulled away but he didn’t go far, only putting enough space between you in order to meet your gaze once more.

“Protect.” His voice deep and rough from disuse but as he gathered you into his arms and tugged you against his broad chest, you knew that he would do anything to do just that. And you couldn’t help but smile through the pain.

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[alliddewrites]

Pervy!TF-141 x Reader Headcanons

Content disclaimer:

Smut,

Inappropriate/creepy/disgusting behavior,

Voyeurism,

Recording without permission,

Abuse of ranks,

Underwear stealing,

Very ambiguous consent,

Female reader

Masterlist

Reader discretion advised. You're responsible for your own media consumption.

Gaz

Kyle has several cameras set up around your room. The feed gets recorded and stored in case he can't see something live. Never wants to miss a single second when he can see your perfect body.

Loves watching you pleasure yourself, unaware that you're being watched by him. He gets so hard watching you touching your wet pussy. He always times his orgasm with yours, imagining himself pouring his hot cum into your tight cunt.

Takes pictures and videos of you every chance he gets. He has a collection of you doing just about everything. - You innocently asleep in your bed. - You in the showers, water droplets running down your pretty body, looking oh so enticing. - You working out, tits perfectly squeezed together by your sports bra, sweat running down between your breasts. - You running on the tracks, tight ass bouncing so beautifully.

He has all of these files organized in folders so he can pick what to get off to depending on his mood.

After the others find out about this whole ordeal, he will reluctantly share the files with them, just so they don't tell you. Now all of them get to jerk off to your unaware self.

When he's with you, he gives you fleeting touches in inappropriate places. He either plays it off as an accident, or he just simply plays innocent.

Loves touching your ass the most, he just wants to grab it and massage it in his hands. "Oh! Sorry! I really didn't mean to do that."

Price

John takes full advantage of his rank, ordering you around to do things for him, sometimes inappropriate things.

Makes your train with him. After all, what is everyone else going to do? He's the captain, what he says, goes, no matter how much the others on the team complain. Since he has more strength than you, he has the advantage every single time. Pins you down in ways where his pelvis is touching you in some way. You can feel his hard cock through his pants, pressed up against you each session, grinding into you slightly. He might even pin you down in a way where his dick is brushing against your face.

Has a really hard time restraining himself from absolutely destroying you on the training mats. You're just so close to him, so submissive and helpless, completely at his mercy. His cock gets hard just thinking about it, precum dripping from the tip of his throbbing shaft.

Gives you orders every moment you're with him. Clean this, go fetch that, sit on his lap, keep him company, etc.

If you happen to mess something up, you're going to receive a punishment. As much as he wants to punish you by absolutely ravaging your body, he'll settle on spanking you until your butt is red. "Now bend over, and count."

Ghost

The silent one out of the group is the one that's the least obvious about his pervertedness.

Simon is the one that steals your, usually used, panties for personal use. Loves smelling your scent while he jerks his painfully hard, throbbing cock to the thoughts of you. When he's nearing his climax, he wraps your dirty panties around his cock. When he finally reaches his climax, he does it directly into the fabric, soaking it in his semen.

When he's done using one of your panties he puts it back into your laundry hamper, between all the other used clothes, in hopes that you'll notice it's covered in his virile seed.

He acts totally normal around you. You wouldn't even know his true feelings if he didn't have his rare slip ups that happen when you tease him. -Showing off a lot of skin, like tits or ass, bending over, acting all innocent and submissive, will get him extremely turned on, rock hard and tip drooling precum, but you will also be playing with fire.-

If you do some of those things, intentional or not, it will push him over the edge. He will pin you to a wall and threaten you, barely keeping control of his desires. "If you're going to act like a slut, we're going to treat you like one."

Soap

The most direct and most obvious out of all of them. Johnny is not ashamed about being a total pervert towards you.

Very touchy feely with you. There is not a moment when his hands are not on you. He might start out at your waist all innocent, but they will either wander up to your tits, or downwards towards your crotch. He gets so hard in these moments that he has to excuse himself so he can go and jerk off, so he can release a nice thick load and all that tension while thinking about you.

Will come up behind you and press himself against you, wrapping his arms around your waist, making sure you can feel his throbbing cock against your ass.

He's drooling over you 24/7, eyes never leaving your beautiful figure. When you catch him staring, which you will, he'll just wink at you, not embarrassed at all. He'll be even hornier and happier if you notice his bulge, barely contained by his pants.

He's not afraid of making comments about you and your body. Inappropriate comments, dirty jokes, explicit observations, the things he'd do to you, etc. "I have a bit of a problem. Won't you help me out, lass?"

I do not, to any extent, support this kind behavior in real life. This is pure fiction.

[bandgie]

Hiya I just read some of your work and I love it, do you think you could do a Yandre perv Seungmin, only if you can. Have a good day 🥰

a/n: thank you so much! and yes on it!

synopsis: You start to notice little things when Seungmin first moves in with you. Maybe your underwear goes missing and you swear he's starting to use your perfume. Weird, but not necessarily bad. Well, not yet anyway, you still haven't found the camera he's set up.

warnings: nasty Seungmin lol

872 words

Your eyes scanned the floor of your bedroom, confused. You swear you left your clothes out on the bed when you got out of the shower, but it was missing. More specifically, your underwear. Maybe I didn't pull them out, you think.

Even then, this isn't the first time it's happened. You've noticed a huge decrease in the amount of panties you own. Things tend to go missing in the house, that's always been a thing. But why your thongs?

You change into your shirt, wrapping a towel over your middle and lower section before leaving the room.

"Seungmin?"

He hears you call him from behind his bedroom door. Your pretty black undies are pressed against his nose. Granted, they're clean, so the smell isn't as strong. But it does the job. The faint scent of your smell is enough to get him hard, tugging pitifully at his cock.

He shoves the underwear underneath his pillow and sits up. Seungmin shoves his dick in his sweatpants, ignoring how uncomfortable it is to feel the sensitive skin rub against the fabric. He only pokes his head out when he answers. 

No bra, as usual. Your hardened nipples peek through the thin shirt which is slightly wet from your dripping hair. You smell nice, and judging from the towel around your waist, you just took a shower. 

"What's up?" 

You shift weight from one leg to the other, "Weird question, but have you seen my clothes around? I can't find anything to wear."

That's because I have most of them, he thinks to himself. "Uh no? Do you need some pajamas?"

Nodding, you answer. "Please. Just some bottoms."

Seungmin complies and closes the door, telling you that he just needs a minute. Which is half true, it won't take a long time to cum now. Not with the image of you naked in the shower, letting the soap and water drip down your body.

He drops back down on the end and grabs your underwear. He inhales your panties deeply, poking his tongue out to taste just a smidge of you. Seungmin much prefers when they're used. The smell is strong that way, and they're sometimes even warm. He didn't have time to dig through your dirty clothes this time.

Seungmin tears his jogger off and trails the panties down his body until it catches onto his hard cock. He wraps it around his length and slowly pumps himself. Quickly, he reaches for his phone and open his most used app. He's connected the feed to the hidden camera in your room. 

It's wrong of him, so horribly criminal of him to use your obliviousness like this. 

Even then, he can't help the twinge of excitement that courses through him as he views you through his screen. You're in your room, towel abandoned onto your bed. He watches as you continue to look for your undergarments. 

You bend and kneel, giving Seungmin a perfect view of your pussy. It's not aroused, not dripping the slick as it normally would when you played with yourself late into the late. In a way, Seungmin finds it better like this. 

Your complete blindness to what Seungmin's doing turns him on more. Here he is jerking himself off and getting your panties soaked with precum while you remain unknowing. 

Seungmin finds himself bringing the phone to his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the digital version of you. Fuck, he wishes it was you. Your pretty cunt drooling as he'd eat you out. How you'd pull him closer by the hair, suffocating him in you. 

The thought being Seungmin closer to the edge. Maybe you'd let him put his cock in. He would stretch you out so nicely, your perfect walls hugging him. Seungmin can't imagine how warm you'd be, how beautiful your moans would sound. 

The dildo you fuck yourself on isn't enough, it can't be. Whenever he watches you through the phone, he can see how restless you get. There you were, doing all the work just to cum. You'd rather lie down and take it, at the will of the person fucking you.

Maybe Seungmin should play with you while you sleep. Cum inside you so you'd wake up feeling satisfied, complete. It's always been a dream of his. To imagine you waking up to the drag of his cock. Shh, he'd say. It's just a dream.

He's cumming before he knows it. Thinking of perverted thoughts about you always makes him finish.

He's thankful your underwear catches most of the spurts, the rest dripping down his balls. Seungmin stares are your pixelated pussy, watching how you wrap the towel back around your waist once you give up looking for something to wear.

It's then that he remembers how he promised you some bottoms.

Looking through his drawers, Seungmin finds a pair of sweatpants that are too small for him. He takes your cum stained underwear and uses his finger to collect small amounts of the white substance. He smears it into the joggers, making sure to blend it perfectly into the crotch area.

Seungmin only finds it fair to have you walk around with his cum on you. He always does it with yours.

a/n: perv? yes. yandere? maybe not so much. seungmin strikes me as the yandere type to think about you and only you all the time, not necessarily action based hope you liked it! edit: part two here

[undeadcannibal]

Cod men with an so that has a kink for their gear/uniform *insert evil laugh* like they come home from work and their so is just DROOLINGGG over them like ughhh

Summary: Headcanons for Alejandro, Ghost, and Price with an SO who likes their gear/uniform~

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Alejandro, Ghost, and Price

Warnings: none!

A/N: Hello hello! Thank you for the request, Anon. Hopefully this suffices because I felt I didn’t do this one enough justice cause I’m getting back into the swing of things, ahhh. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! TuT  ( Gif credit: xxx )

Alejandro―

He's the type to immediately notice your affinity for his gear, even if you're the type that tries to suppress your desires 

Specifically, he notices each time your gaze lingers on his form longer than usual. Even more so when he has to stop to adjust or fix a part of his uniform 

At first, he doesn't let you know he's in on your little secret. Although, that doesn't mean he doesn't feed into it whenever he has the chance 

Whenever he's returning home from an extended mission - regardless of whether or not he's exhausted - he'll take his sweet time in removing his gear. Allowing you to soak in the view of each and every intricate piece adorning his body 

With Alejandro's gear, it's difficult for you to pick a favorite piece you enjoy seeing him wear, but he notes that familiar gleam of desire in your eyes whenever he's dealing with straps

Naturally, so he's not losing anything important, they've to be pretty tight to his form. Still, he'll go just a bit tighter than he usually does right before he's through the door

I can also definitely see him as the type to try and impress you by showing off, busting open the tight strap wrapped around his flexing bicep~

Kiss him and tell him all about how much you adore seeing him in his gear and he'll happily put on a show for you in any of his uniforms/sets 

Ghost― 

Much like Alejandro, he notices the lingering looks and extra touches to his gear right away. However, he's much more subtle about indulging you with it 

He doesn't always like to wear his full gear when he's home. I headcanon him as the type to prefer to keep that part of his life separate from his home life for many reasons

However... 

He'll tease you ever so often by wearing one of his more casual skull-decorated masks around the house, maybe even including his skeleton gloves if he's feeling extra

Either way, you best believe he'll casually torture you when wearing them around you. Going out of his way to purposefully ignore any staring or dodging certain touches he knows are just to cop a feel  

Once he thinks you've had enough, he finally indulges you by touching you with his gloved hands wherever you please~ 

Possibly could be talked into bringing a mask of his into the bedroom for you

GOD, GIVE ME MASKED, GLOVED GHOST IN MY BEDROOM AHHH

He won't admit how much he enjoys it like you, but after trying it a few times, I can definitely see him imagining those evenings you spend together each time he sees those gloves and mask  

Price―

Sometimes when he's too tired, he'll get a little lazy when taking off his gear, so occasionally he'll bump into you while still wearing his vest and hat

Though, shortly after noticing the way you become very interested in his gear, he's perking up in no time. Why was he so tired again?  

Much like Alejandro, he delights in giving in to your desires and goes out of his way to leave on certain pieces of his gear/uniform when he's feeling in the mood to be a tease

Adores the way your hands feel tugging on his vest impatiently, or whenever you're pleading for something you need

If you're good, maybe even lets you wear the hat while the two of you fool around

Seeing you wearing it while atop him makes him understand why you like seeing him in his own gear so much

Even more so if you're just wearing his hat~