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ragingbookdragon · 2 months ago
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She huffs lightly when she hears the low growl of the familiar soldier in the room next door, followed by her nurse griping and trying to work with him. Entering behind, she lays a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Go on, Paula, I got him,” she says with a smile and Paula practically screams in relief as she leaves the exam room.
She gives him a fond smile. “Now, Lieutenant, what have I said about antagonizing my nurses?”
He scowls at her. “I don’t like ‘em.”
“I know but I still need you to be kind when they’re simply trying to do their jobs.”
“I don’t like anyone touchin’ me but you.” He’s still scowling behind his mask, holding his side where she can see the black material stained a darker color.
“Well aren’t I special,” she murmurs, closing the exam room door before walking over. “You know the drill.”
He lifts his sweatshirt wordlessly along with the t-shirt he’s got underneath and she sighs at the sight of a cut about four inches long riding up his ribs.
“Do I even want to know how?” She asks.
“Trainin’ with Soap,” he mutters. “‘e’s a slippery lit’le bastard when ‘e needs to be.”
She snorts and goes about pulling on a pair of latex gloves before she begins to clean his wound with antiseptic. He doesn’t make a sound though she knows it stings like a bitch and the only show of irritation from him is the way his muscle ripple beneath her touch.
“I thought I said not to get wounded anymore.”
“Didn’t listen,” he simply shrugs.
“If I had half a mind, I’d assume you did this on purpose so you could come see me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter you’self. I don’t like you that much.”
A laugh escapes her as she checks the depth, ultimately deciding on a few stitches for his wound. “Oh I know you like me plenty, Simon.”
Simon.
She only says his name in privacy when no one can hear them. He hates the way his chest feels funny, sternum scratchy with an itch he can’t get to.
“‘S Lieutenant,” he retorts.
“Of course, of course,” she hums. “My most sincerest apologies, Lieutenant Riley.”
He scowls again but that itch returns when she begins to stitch his wound carefully.
After a few minutes, she sets the clipped thread down and admires her handiwork. “All done, sweetheart,” she says with a gentle smile and wipes it carefully before putting a bandage on it. “Don’t get it wet and—”
“Keep it dry and clean,” he finishes. “I know.”
She laughs and pokes the nose to his mask. “Maybe one day you will learn.”
She watches as he redresses himself before standing, waving off the bottle of pills she hands to him.
“Don’t need ‘em.”
“It’s just some ibuprofen, Lieutenant.”
“Don’t need ‘em,” he repeats with a growl and she rolls her eyes.
“You are so stubborn for no reason,” she says and places her hands on her hips. “And after all the care I just gave you.”
He looks at her for a solid moment before he leans over and kisses her cheek through his mask. “Thank you, love,” he mutters. “For takin’ care of me.”
She goes uncharacteristically quiet, cheeks getting hot and he smirks at her.
“Ain’t got nothin’ to say? Cat got your tongue?”
She glares at him half-heartedly. “Get out of my clinic, Lieutenant.”
As he heads for the door, he pauses and looks at her. “It’s Simon, to you.” He says, and closes the door behind him.
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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.��
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
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hmusunoo · 2 months ago
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𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 - 𝐏.𝐒𝐇
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pairings. ᝰ.ᐟ park sunghoon x fem!pregnant!reader
synopsis. ᝰ.ᐟ sunghoon loves when you call him daddy
warnings. ᝰ.ᐟ pure SMUT mdni, reader is pregnant, daddy kink, breeding kink, lactation kink, praise kink, pure filth, from this request here!
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“ah ah ah babygirl” Sunghoon tisked shaking his head at you as your writhing body beneath his big frame shook. “You don’t get to cum just yet ok? Stop being so selfish and wait for daddy to give you the go ahead first” Sunghoon withdrew himself from you, pulling his cock out in one swift motion before pressing the bulbous tip to your clit rubbing up and down with the slightest pressure.
You whined beneath him. Tears prickling at your eyes threatening to spill at any given moment if he continued his teasing at your entrance.
This had been going on for the better half of an hour, Sunghoon deep inside of you rocking his hips back and forth just until you were so close to the edge but before you could tip over into ecstasy he would retreat leaving you empty and hollow craving to be filled by him again and again.
You were sensitive. Seeing as you were currently seven months pregnant with your child you had very little stamina and a very very high sex drive. The pregnancy seemed to further Sunghoon’s want for you. He was insatiable jumping at you any chance he got.
“Please” You whispered out as you clutched his forearms in your hands begging him to let you cum. “Please let me cum” Sunghoon continued rubbing his tip against your clit giving you the smallest smile.
“You’re so cute” He teased pushing himself in just a little bit, not enough to satisfy that over arching want for him deep inside of you. “How bad do you want it baby?”
“So bad” You cried the tears finally falling from your eyes and onto the apples of you cheeks “Please, please hoon-“
You were cut off by the empty feeling again, Sunghoon had pulled out abruptly leaving you to whine more at the loss of contact.
“You’re being bad” Sunghoon said shaking his head at you. He pulled your face toward his by your chin kissing softly at the tears that fell from your eyes onto your cheeks. “What do you call me”
“D-daddy” You whimpered out lifting your hips off the bed begging for any friction you can get. “Daddy please”
“That’s right sweetheart” Sunghoon smiled he lined his cock back at your entrance smacking the head against your clit in a vulgar display of punishment.
“You’re so fucking hot all round and swollen with my baby” He sat deep inside of you rocking his hips in and out with a steady tempo finally giving into your pleas and whines for him.
“If you weren’t already pregnant i’d knock you up again” His hips smacked at yours harshly, a gasp of surprise leaving your lips. “and again” His hips falling in tune with his words.
“I did a good job right baby?” Sunghoon asked desperately his words coming out as more of a gasp and whine “I did a good job putting a baby in you right?” Sunghoon chased for your praise craving it more then the need to cum at this point.
“Fuck” You squeaked lifting your hips from the bed meeting his thrust halfway “Yes- yes you did daddy you did so good”
“Fuckkk yeah i did” His breathing was harsh as he continued his assault of your heat, you continued to meet him halfway finding it hard to lift your hips. Being seven months pregnant your mobility during sex was hard. you often found yourself in a position just like this one, with Sunghoon over you as you laid almost flat on your back giving him the perfect chance to do as he absolutely pleased with your body. You loved it, truthfully but you sure did miss being a bit dominant and you sure as hell missed riding him.
Sunghoon moved his lips down your neck before he reached one of the most sensitive places on your body at the moment. He attached his lips to your nipples sucking on them lightly. You gasped running your hands through sunghoon’s hair and tugging.
The overstimulation from Sunghoon’s lips on your nipples and his constant nudge of his tip deep inside of you had you nearly combusting.
“I-“ You words could barely even form an ecstasy like no other approaching you at record speed. “I’m gonna cum daddy”
“Cum for me” Sunghoon said lifting his mouth from your nipple nearly sucking the milk out dry. “Cum for daddy sweetheart”
You tipped over the edge at his words. Your eyes rolling back as waves of pure ecstasy consumed you, one thing about pregnancy was that the orgasms we’re ten times more intense this one being no exception.
“Oh fuck” Sunghoon heaved spilling himself inside of you not even a second later, joining you in your euphoric state.
After you had came down from your monumental high and you were able to catch your breath, Sunghoon pulled out of you plopping down on the bed next to you.
“after we have her, as soon as the doctor gives a go ahead i’m getting you pregnant again and again and again”
“Woah-“ You giggled rolling yourself onto your side putting your arm over sunghoon’s chest. “Just one is good for now” You kissed his chest resting your chin to look at him.
“Baby you don’t understand, i can’t look at you without wanting to get you pregnant” You let out a laugh before rolling over to get up to pee.
“We’re going to have a whole village because of you.
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taglist - @belovedhoon , @st1llm0nster , @blossommi
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leeechin · 9 days ago
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(ꗃ) cat and mouse [nerd sunghoon] ! ⋆ ›  ◟⊹
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after sleeping with the cute quiet dork that sat nearby you and your friend during lunch, you find yourself playing silly games with him, due to a miscommunication. [wc: 2.5k]
CONTENT: college au! sunghoon and jay are big losers in this lol. nerd!sunghoon x fem!reader, 2010s era :p | mdni.
WARNINGS: lots of teasing, handjob, sunghoon is pretty switchy but more dom leaning, unprotected sex (big no), bigdick!hoon, fingering, slight degradation, ass slapping, etc.
lee’s note: this is a continuation of my most popular nerd!hoon fic here ! this can be read as a stand-alone!! gaeul from ive is yn’s bff NOT sunghoons dog LOL.
“you should’ve known it was a one time thing..” jay murmurs to sunghoon, who wasn’t focusing on their round of star craft, instead sulking on the couch with his legs crossed. “someone like her wouldn’t do a second time with someone like us— you to be exact.” adding on.
you had the best time of your life, choosing to hook up with the cute quiet dork unexpectedly. it was planned by you, it was just never expected of you for the plan to be executed perfectly. and you weren’t going to let another opportunity slip beneath you.
“she agreed to let me take her on a date though! and it’s only been two days.. maybe she’s busy.” he exasperates in response, opening his phone to see no new messages from you in his inbox.
“orrr maybe she wants you to text her first instead of her..” jay suggests, throwing the control at sunghoon to play the game again, sunghoon shrugs it off, putting his attention back to the next round of star craft.
you were indeed busy.. rambling to gaeul and your other roommates about the other night with sunghoon. raving about how he was ‘so so good.’ completely oblivious that you not texting him, or expecting him to text you.. is causing a minor miscommunication.
now, being back on campus, you were hoping to catch sunghoon at the campus cafeteria, and throw him teasing glances. strutting confidently in your cute denim shorts and low cut tee, you sit yourself across gaeul at the usual table. and looking up, you notice the pause in sunghoon’s movements, pathetically dropping his fork and pretending it was an accident, coughing so fake.
you let out a small giggle, kicking your feet back and forth underneath the table, forgetting that your friend was across you. “helloooooo? earth to y/n?” gaeul waves her hand in your face, causing you to finally blink.
“god, he’s such a loser.” gaeul points out, turning around to see sunghoon, try to not so obviously peek at you from his canned drink, attempting to hide his eyes from staring at you. “a hot loser though.” you correct, going back into a daydream like trance, thinking about the past weekend you spent with him.
flipping your phone open, you shoot a message to sunghoon, you hear the clatter of the metal can he was drinking from, seeing how fast he scrambled to flip open his own phone. was this really the same guy who railed you into the next dimension a couple days ago?
[you]
you know, i could see you staring at me
[hoonie (^з^)-♡]
What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.
[you]
sure sureeeeeeee
you were surely so quick to open your phone
and dropping your little drink that made a loud sound from hitting the floor, okay though! (=´∀`)
[hoonie (^з^)-♡]
Why haven’t you reached out to me since that night?
Did I do something wrong?
sunghoon didn’t beat around the bush. you wanted to apologize over and over, feeling guilt flood your body for not taking the initiative, especially for someone like sunghoon, who mainly kept to himself with one friend.
but something ignited a plan of mischief in your mind, wanting to tease the fuck out of sunghoon until he ruined you completely. the urge to tests the waters until you were in the hands of his mercy. looking up from your phone, you throw sunghoon a small grin, causing him to nearly drop his phone over a pile of rice on his lunch tray.
“just go get him in a room for christ’s sake, stop eye-fucking him infront of me.” gaeul scoffs, gathering all her things together to head to her next lecture, waiting for you to follow pursuit. “go without me gaeul.”, she raises an eyebrow at you, but then sees how your gaze is stuck on sunghoon who seems to be minding his own business now, eating the food on his lunch tray.
“mind if i take a seat here?” you ask sunghoon, making him startle at the sudden sound of your voice, eyes attempting to only focus on your face, rather than the sight of your juicy tits tight against your shirt.
“yeah.” he mutters, returning to finish the last of food on his tray. “why so silent..?” you fake pout, seating yourself across from him, leaning forward slightly.
“whyareyouavoidingme.” sunghoon quickly speaks, you’re unable to catch what he was saying. “hoonie, what?” you giggle, hand reaching under the table to grab at his knee, feeling how it tensed up under your touch.
“not in the cafeteria, please.” sunghoon flinches, trying not to draw attention by avoiding to have a big reaction, feeling your hand squeeze at his sensitive knee, bumping his knee up to remove your hand. you giggle and use both of your hands to straighten up your shirt.
“answer my question, hoon.” you repeat coyly, leaning forward across the table, sunghoon looks around at the people sitting at the surrounding tables, worried they’re catching onto what’s happening between you two.
“can we— talk somewhere else— please.” he stutters, looking down to hide his now flustered face. “hmmmm.. okay.” you contemplate, looking around the direction sunghoon was. “no one’s looking at us, hoon.” adding on with a playful smile painted across your face.
sunghoon opens his mouth to say something, but you interrupted his sentence that hasn’t even started; “oops! didn’t pay attention to the time! i’ll drop by your place at some time soon!”, gathering all of your things as his eyes blink rapidly.. so dorky, and so hot at the same time.
“but what if i happen to be busy..” sunghoon manages to slip out, seeing how you got up and was ready to leave him behind at his lunch table. “i’m sure you won’t be.”
sunghoon was convinced, no he was aware you were playing games with him now. every time you self-invited yourself to his table, right when he’s about to ask you if you want to study together, you leave abruptly. and it doesn’t help with you sending him suggestive messages on his phone while he’s around jay to stir things up.
“what game are you trying to play with me?” sunghoon blurts out, looking down at his hands on his lap, fidgeting nervously as you sat down on the lunch table seat across from him for the fourth day in a row.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you fake acting confused, playing with a strand of your hair in between your fingers. sunghoon sighs in defeat, only knowing you are continuing this silly little game of yours.
“i think you do.” he frowns in response, moving on to eating the bun he had in his hand. “how long are you going to keep going on with this?” sunghoon adds on to his sentence. you sigh in defeat, sitting yourself properly.
“don’t you enjoy taking to me hoon?” you frowned, doe eyes blinking at sunghoon’s as you await an answer.
“i do. but before we can even talk properly, you leave. how long are you going to keep this game of yours up?” sunghoon finishes the last of his bun before crossing his arms together, seeming to be less nervous and shy now.
“i guess i’m done..” you sheepishly replied, trying to read sunghoon’s unreadable expression. “what’s on your mind, hoon?” you ask, noticing the silence that filled between you two for a good 10 seconds.
“you know.. we’re supposed to be studying..” sunghoon comments, seeing how you crawled on his mattress seductively to seat yourself over his lap. “but what’s the fun in only studying hoon?”
“you said you needed help on— fuck.” sunghoon groans, sentence cutting off, throwing his head back with his glasses tilting lopsided, feeling you shift on his lap, back against the headboard of his bed, as your hands clumsily fumble at the zipper of his jeans to pull out his painfully hard cock that has been straining against the tight constraints of his boxers.
“is this what you wanted from me this whole time.?” you speak softly, gathering saliva to slip past your lips, onto the center of your palm, enveloping his base around your hand, gasping when you forgot how big he was when you looked down at your hand jerking his base slowly. you found the sight infront of you to be so pleasing.
seeing sunghoon’s tilted glasses, moving your free hand to put it back in place. “stop playing with me, y/n.” his voice strains, his large hands finding purchase on both sides of your waist. he sits himself up, looking at your irresistible glossy lips that slightly parted as you concentrated on working your hand at his base.
leaning forward to place his lips over yours, you whine against him from the sudden action, hand slipping off his thick cock as your hands run under his shirt, nails trickling at sunghoon’s soft skin causing him to hiss at the contact. you pull away from the kiss to pull his shirt off and over his head, along with him removing yours, throwing the articles of clothing everywhere in his neatly organized room. your lips return to tangling messily along with his, the smacking sounds filling the silence.
your lips trail down his exposed collarbone, leaving soft marks as you attempt to go down lower, feeling him stop you, a soft whine leaving your lips when you feel one of sunghoon’s hand grasp a good handful of your ass.
“this game of yours is ending right now.” sunghoon speaks lowly, gently removing the remaining material of your undergarments, taking in the sight of how your naked body looked so good, even with the dim lighting in his room— the lamp being the only source of light.
“hurry up then hoon..! oh.” you moan at the feeling of his fingers rubbing against your sensitive clit, moving to circle at your dripping entrance, teasing you by only pushing in his fingertips a few times, before plunging two of his thick digits past it. the warmth of your walls clamping down tightly from simply just his fingers.
“you can still barely even take it.” sunghoon chuckles, his free hand brushing his strands of hair back. moving his other hand, flicking his wrist at an angle that had you seeing all sorts of colors, relishing in the feeling of his fingers reaching the spots yours could never reach.
“please hoonie..” you whine, nails digging deep into his shoulders, holding onto him tightly to avoid falling off of his lap with the sensation of his fingers dragging in and out of you rapidly, crumbling apart when you feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm approaching.
despite the advantage you might’ve had in your position of being seated over him, you were powerless, taking in what he gave you, not seeming to mind loosing dominance you once had over him a little bit ago.
“you’re close aren’t you?” sunghoon raises an eyebrow, seeing how you grinded your hips slightly, to take in his digits even further, your eyes looking down to see how well you sucked his fingers in. “mm— yes please hoon i— what the fuck—!” you protest, feeling him pull his fingers out, one of his hands holding you still in place.
you squirm around on his lap, trying to escape his grasp, gasping loudly when you feel his hand smack your ass, the soft flesh jiggling from the touch. “can’t you be more patient for me now?” sunghoon smirks, flipping you onto your back, leaning over the side to reach his drawer for a condom when you grab at his wrist to stop him.
“want you so bad, hoon.” you strain out, face flushed with desire and neediness. you hear sunghoon let out a deep chuckle in response, stroking himself at the sight of your body splayed on his mattress, legs spread.
“you make me wait several days, but you can’t even wait a few minutes.” he scoffs jokingly, pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist, aligning his tip to your entrance, wasting no more time to slide in easily- due to your wetness that trickled down your thighs.
you hear sunghoon let out a long groan at how your walls once again clamped around him tightly, glasses falling off his face and somewhere beside him on the bed, slowly bottoming out and relishing the feeling of your warm velvety walls. “fuckkk. you feel even better without a condom.” he groans, finding a pace with his thrusts, his cock dragging so perfectly and so deep into you to where you couldn’t even form proper words.
“s’ so good-!” you manage to slip out, palms pressed flat to hold tightly onto sunghoon’s back as you try to keep up with his fast, merciless pace, cock deliciously hitting repeatedly in that one spot in you that sent you spiraling.
“not talking now? had me playing a game like i was a cat and you were the fucking mouse.” sunghoon grunts, eyes meeting yours as you let out a small whimper at his words, clenching around his thick cock, causing him to let out a groan at the feeling, closing his eyes to take in the feeling of not having a condom wrapped around him. deciding to bring your other leg to wrap around his waist, moving to push the back of your thighs to practically fold you in half. you feel him press against the soft bulge of your stomach from how deep he is inside.
your high-pitched moans and mewls of pleasure fill sunghoon’s room when you take what he’s giving you, eyes rolling back as you feel yourself reaching your orgasm, arms wrapping sunghoon’s neck as he leans forward to kiss you, his lips muffling your loud moans.
“inside please.” you whisper, moving your legs to wrap around sunghoon’s waist again, watching how his thick eyebrows furrow in concentration when he twitches inside you, hips moving sloppily as he’s not too far from you— eventually stilling his movements to fill you up with his creamy white essence, seeing how you shut your eyes tightly as your chest heaves heavily, letting yourself go, whining when you feel him slip out.
“you’re nasty.” you giggle, seeing sunghoon return with a warm towel to help swipe up the mess on you. “you indulged into it, you’re not any different from me, y/n.” he laughs in response, throwing the towel into his hamper, laying himself down beside you as he pulls his boxers back on. you’re wearing one of his t-shirts, blanket pulled over as you’re ready to doze off.
“so when are you going to take me out on that date you suggested the last time i was here?” you smile, eyes half lidded as you melt into the embrace of his bigger frame.
“whenever you stop playing those silly little games.”
the both of you releasing a fit of laughter, feeling yourself slowly drift off to sleep, thinking about the next time you’re gonna have this with sunghoon.
hai i wrote this for @00kittenz and @pshbites ily both sm, i’m so glad we are friends bcuz of this silly little app. 💓💓
tag: @aewon
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cregansdingdong · 3 months ago
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imagine cregan and y/n breaking the bed one night just because of his sheer strength and muscle whilst pounding her, ik the conversation with the winterfell wood crafter would be awks as hell afterwards whilst asking for it to be repaired 😇😇
IM HAVING A PROPHETIC VISION, ANON.
At this point, Cregan and his boo thang are just going to have to become familiar with the man. There is no other option, because your choices are either to have this embarrassing conversation a multitude of times with multiple woodcrafters or just one. Because if y'all think this is a one-time thing, you are terribly mistaken.
Cregan is a very passionate person in bed, regardless if he's on top or not. He wants to make sure the two of you are satiated—that does mean the bed will snap like a twig under a boot i dont make the rules i just work here. Personally, I find the actual deliverance of the bedframe to be the most mortifying. Firstly, that big ass broken bed has to be dismantled and removed, if it's not fixable, which takes manpower, and then the new one brought into the Great Keep and put together. Otherwise, the woodcrafter is going to have to make a house call and show up with his tools and planks, walking toward your marital chambers which is embarrassing too :)
ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. (thoughts ver.)
NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.
₊˚ ‿���‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
That familiar groan under his weight should've been the first warning sign, but Cregan was too distracted to notice. He was lapping at her pretty cunt, tongue delving as deep as he could go and as thorough as he could be without the motions being too unsteady. Alright maybe he did notice initially, but the thought was very quickly shoved to the back of his mind—especially when his pretty wife was trying to rock herself onto his nose, letting out the most quiet of whimpers muffled by their sheets. His ears were focused on her and her only.
With her pearl rubbing against his bridge and his cock feeling so strained in his trousers, no one could really blame him for forgetting about the delicate state of the bed in an instant. Last time they’d gotten particularly frantic in their lovemaking, there had been a low snap somewhere beneath the mattress, a taunt that he was probably too hefty to be moving so much. But winter was coming, a man’s gotta eat…in more ways than one.
By the time he’d recalled they should begin to take it easy on the bed, he was already balls deep behind her, hands gripping the flesh of her ass like a lifeline. He was suffocating in the best way, cock nestled inside, fogging his brain with nothing but instinct. And then she started begging. By then, well, he decided they needed a new bed anyway—six moons wasn’t too bad. Lasted longer than the previous replacement. Three harsh, unrelenting spanks bloom red on her backside as she squeezes around him, sending his blood pumping to the beat of an imaginary war drum. It would be a miracle from the Gods if she wasn’t pregnant by mid-summer. Cregan just couldn’t help himself.
Rutting against her like a man starved, the right side of the bed almost completely collapses, caving in and nearly throwing him off balance. His wife gasped, pleasure momentarily halted as she looked back at him. “Again? Seriously? I told you to write to him last time, did you?” The answer was no, no he did not. “It might have…slipped…my mind.” He murmured, trying to ignore the throbbing in his full balls. They had a silent conversation of glares and a sheepish grin. Then she concedes. “...We might as well finish then. I doubt it can get any worse.”
It could, actually. And it did. He came hard some twenty minutes later, pounding their hips together with a steady desperation. The dip of the broken side was a little annoying, but manageable. Without the support, the right beams of the canopy end up falling right down. No one was harmed, of course. It was only drapes. Cregan found it almost comical but his wife did not. It was going to be a long letter.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
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loveindefinitely · 9 months ago
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༊*·˚ LIKE THE WAY I FUCK ('CAUSE I GET ROUGH) — an undercover mission with your superiors leads to compromised positions (in more ways than one)
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featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + könig
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, canon-divergence, age difference, slight power imbalance, jealous/possessive behaviour, discussions of violence, tags to be added
// NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT //
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Turns out, undercover missions involve a lot more make-up, perfume and dresses than you'd anticipated.
Being a seasoned task force operator, it's been months, if not years since you've been to a party outside of your barracks. Let alone one of this calibre; CEOs, billionaires on Forbes Top 50, politicians.
It's off-putting. 
All of it; it's stressful, and it feels as though your skin's crawling, having so much skin on display, so many eyes on you at once. You feel as though you’re an animal at a zoo, being inspected by families with their snotty-nosed kids.
"Sit-rep, Diamond?"
Swallowing around a dry mouth, you reply to your lieutenant's request through your earpiece, tone low and careful. "All as planned, Lt."
Ghost hums a low sound in reply, and your shoulders loosen slightly from their tense position.
You knew that your superior was already inside, having arrived ten minutes earlier. A small, selfish part of you wished that you'd have arrived with him, if only to see how he cleaned up.
Ghost? In a suit? It's like one of your deepest, most dirty of desires come to life.
Such thoughts that you'd never let leave your lips -- thoughts too likely to wreck your entire career and any opportunity to keep your relationship with the man.
"König?" Is Ghost's next question, although it's just the other man's name alone.
Right.
König.
The other superior featured in your dreams. Thoughts. Wank-material?
Whatever they are, they're becoming all too common, all too realistic, and all too risky.
"Successful entry," König replies, heavily accented voice low and quiet -- he's amongst people.
Your limo comes to a stop outside of the decorated museum, and a suited man opens your door with gloved hands. His upper lip is covered in a well-groomed pencil moustache, and you have to stifle a chuckle. Soap would’ve appreciated it.
With a small smile, you incline your head towards him, lifting up the fabric of your skirt so it doesn't brush against the gravel. It’s so… impractical, and you really can’t help but respect those that dress up like this on a regular basis. Looking down at your outfit, you let out a low breath.
When Gaz and Soap had burst into your room with shit-eating grins and a garment bag, you had just known that your dress was going to be... extravagant at best, and downright sinful at worst.
You were correct, of course.
So, here you are, walking down the red carpet into the building, cameras flashing and paparazzi screaming, in this... dress.
Silky black, strapless, and with crossing lines of fabric across your bare back. Chiffon skirts fall behind you, with a slit rising all the way up to where your thigh meets your hip bone. A gun hides beneath, strapped around your inner thigh, paired with your right, adorning a delicate yet hefty knife.
You look... not at all like a Sergeant on Task Force 141.
You look like a celebrity, one just out of her fans' reach. It's a surreal experience, and the mere thought of your two superiors (crushes) seeing you like this... It's frightening. Maddening. And, maybe, a tad bit exhilarating.
Gaz had insisted on doing your make-up -- having so many sisters made him a fully-fledged artist, apparently. And an artist he was, talented with the brushes of eyeshadow and flicks of eyeliner against your skin.
Soap, for his part, had begged for you to let him do your hair -- but considering his only experience was his mohawk, you were less than lenient. With a huff, he’d let you go to Laswell’s wife with the request, as long as he picked out your jewellery.
And now, hours later, your heels click against the stone tile as you enter the museum.
Soft lighting cascades all of the guests in gentle hues of yellow, laughter and polite mingling surrounding you as you enter the main ballroom, skirts brushing against your legs.
Chandeliers above glisten, a live-band plays beautiful jazz, and servers walk around with trays of champagne and finger foods.
It's nothing like you've ever experienced.
This mission, somehow, terrifies you more than the weight of a sniper in your hand and an order to neutralise.
"Target, six o'clock," Ghost's voice carries through your comms as you take position near the corner of the room. There’s fewer people here, and it allows you a moment to breathe and recalibrate.
Your eyes dart to the direction your lieutenant has supplied, and you catch sight of your target immediately. "Got eyes," you murmur softly, smile on your face as you pretend to fix your hair.
"Affirmative," König answers then.
"I haven't seen you before."
Whipping around to the source of the words, you find yourself face to face with a man who you've seen the face of too many times to count.
"Apologies for startling you," he inclines his head respectfully. He's got a few inches on you -- although you find it hard to consider him tall when you're with your superiors more often than not. His skin is closely-shaved, his blonde hair gelled to the nines -- and a smarmy, trust-fund baby smirk to top it all off.
Extending his hand, he announces, "I'm Phillip. Phillip Graves."
...Graves.
The last name of your target -- the son of your target.
"I'm Louise," you say with a sweet smile, taking his hand and shaking it. Your undercover name was going to have to come into play sooner than you'd hoped. "It's a lovely atmosphere, isn't it?"
"Positive, Diamond?" Ghost's deep voice instantly responds to your subtle codeword.
"Not as lovely as you, I'm sure," Phillip flirts, and you pretend to bat your lashes and hide your face from him.
"Ah... thank you, Sir. You're quite dashing yourself," you meekly reply, giving him a soft smile. 
Men like this were so easily played, you found. Not at all like the military men you were surrounded with on such a constant basis. Not at all like…
You can hear both König and Ghost swear underneath their breaths. Releasing the hold on your bracelet -- the one with the built-in comms button -- you shyly bite at your lower lip.
Phillip’s eyes track the movement, and if not for the stakes of this mission, it'd be almost comical.
"May I have this dance?" He asks, offering his arm for you to take. He’s adorning an obviously wealthy suit, dark blue and silky – and it rubs you in all the wrong ways.
You can hear your heart pound in your ears -- this wasn't the way the mission was supposed to go. But, then again, you didn't get into Task Force 141 by expecting every mission to go as planned.
"I would love to, Sir," you smile, wrapping your hand around his arm, allowing him to escort you to the main dance floor.
Subtly folding your hands together around his arm, you're able to push down the button on your bracelet. "You want us to dance in the middle of everyone? I'm not the best of dance partners..."
Phillip chuckles, but through your inner ear piece, you can hear König report, "Got eyes, Diamant."
Chills run down your spine. Either from this situation or…
Or something else that you're not entirely supposed to -- or allowed to -- feel. Not for those two men, and certainly not for your superiors.
"I'll lead you, darlin’," Phillip leans down to whisper into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. They’re thin, and chapped against your own skin.
His hand moves to sit at your lower back, just above your ass, and the other moves down your arm to interlace your fingers with his. It's an intimate position, your front pressing against his as he starts to lead you with the beat.
Of course you knew how to dance; you wouldn't have been picked for this role if you couldn't. 
However, you deliberately misstep a few times, just to play into Phillip’s ego -- his desire for control and intelligence. 
"For such a beautiful girl, you sure aren't the smartest," he jests, and it takes everything within you not to just swing your fist and leave him twitching on the dance floor. You could, realistically speaking, but that would cost you all the mission. And you would not let yourself, nor König or Ghost, down.
Instead, you nervously flit your gaze from him, moving in closer to his chest. By his squeeze on your lower back, you know it's the right decision. "I... I'm doing my best, Sir."
You want to crawl out of your own skin at the way you’re feeding into his misogyny, how you’re downplaying your own strengths.
He huffs, a demeaning, cruel thing.
"I want to shoot 'im," you hear Ghost mutter, and you'd be a liar to say that those words in that tone don't make you clench your thighs together as you sway against Phillip.
"Make it a competition, ja?" König quips. There's... irritation -- anger, maybe -- behind his question. It's so unlike the gentle giant of a man, and that fact alone has your breath coming out in a short pant.
Phillip, of course, thinks it's him making you so flushed.
With a vindictive smirk, he spins you, completely throwing you off balance. Maybe a tad too dramatically, you find yourself falling into his arms, giggling a little bit.
...It's worth it to hear Ghost grumble under his breath through the comms.
This whole situation doesn't feel quite real, and you know that their attitudes are nearly definitely due to the stray in plans. That's fine. That's all it can possibly be. It’s all that you’ll allow it to be.
But your mind has never been kind, and your imagination has always had the habit of wandering.
"Let's go get some drinks, hm?" Phillip asks, his hand falling dangerously close to 'inappropriate hand placement' territory.
You shoot him a seductive smile, nodding as he pulls you to the open bar, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, leaving you glued to his side. It’s a possessive position, and you find yourself wishing it was either of your superiors holding you in such a way instead.
"Don't drink anything he offers you," Ghost warns. You almost have the mind to chew him out for not trusting you with something so obvious, but... There's something about such subtle 
protectiveness that only feeds your elementary style crush on the man.
"I would love to," you reply as Graves leads you to the bar, hand only moving lower with every step the two of you take. Fear trickles down your spine, your hands squeezing tightly together at your front.
"Say the word and we get you outta' there, Princess," Ghost quips, sharp and to the point.
With your hands already together, you manage to reply an agreement in Morse code -- quick, successive taps of the communications button.
"Good girl," König replies, just a touch breathy from the quietness of his words.
You manage not to trip on your feet, but it's a close thing.
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a small snippet, because i feel really bad for my lack of posts!! life is so insane atm its like a satire.
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minarinnn · 11 months ago
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“notice me”
luke castellan x aphrodite!reader (pt2 here)
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content/trigger warnings: fem! reader, doesn’t follow the plot of tlt!, mentions of smut, sexual tension, manipulation?, groping, reader making luke jealous
a/n: the show has once again sparked up my love for the percy jackson book saga and charlie bushnell has me weakkk ughhh.. i normally don’t write for pjo characters but oh well, lmk if y’all want a continuation of this or just more luke castellan in general ;)
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you had always been so used to being the center of attention. as a daughter of aphrodite, you had always been the most popular girl in school, and there was no shortage of boys falling for your charms
arriving at camp half-blood didn change that, nothing was different. except that, for the first time in your life, you found yourself chasing after the attention of a certain boy. luke castellan, the son of hermes and the head counselor of his cabin, he just wouldn’t fawn over you like the others would. despite your best efforts, luke had always remained indifferent to your constant flirting, leaving you feeling frustrated and determined to change his mind
you found yourself spending every waking moment trying to get his attention, trying to find some way to charm him and make him see you the way the other boys did. but no matter how hard you tried, luke remained distant and unimpressed
this week you were extremely busy, you were helping out in the infirmary, one of the apollo kids who usually worked in the infirmary had been sent on a quest and you were asked to fill in until they came back. juggling that with all your other responsibilities as counselor had you beyond occupied
during that week, annabeth barged in with two other guys; percy and luke. apparently their sparring session had gone a little out of hand and they were both injured
luke was already aware of how you’ve been trying to get his attention these past few years. he actually seems to quite like having you, the most fawned over girl at camp, fawning over him instead. he liked the attention you gave him, though he knew that if he ever gave in to your charms you would stop, so he didn’t
he was fully prepared and expected you to be the one to tend to him, so when he sees you head to percy and tend to him while an apollo girl tended to him he was confused
what happened? why would you choose percy over him? we’re you tired of him? did you give up on trying to win him over? luke’s confusion quickly turned to frustration, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he watched you tend to percy’s wounds
"how are you feeling, percy?" you asked, giving him a warm smile, one that always had the boys weak in the knees. "n-not great, but i’ll manage" he laughed awkwardly, suddenly nervous. you put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze "oh, i’m sure you’ll live”
out of the corner of your eye, you saw luke. he was watching you, watching the way you cared for percy. this was the first time you had ever caught him staring at you with such intensity
so you’re plan was working. you had tried everything to get his attention and you had only one trick left in your arsenal; jealosy. no boy is immune to jealousy, and that was exactly how you were gonna get him
in the end, all you had to do was throw some water at percy and he was good to go. luke though, he had to spend the night in the infirmary
the other apollo kid had left a few minutes ago, something about ‘having other things to do’. so it was just luke and you in the infirmary. you walk over to luke's bed and start tending to his wounds
“oh so now you wanna take care of me? how nice of you” he speaks, sarcasm dripping from his words. “you can tough it out, can't you?" you tease, dabbing away at his cuts with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. luke is watching you intently and you can feel the tension in the room increasing, his eyes fixated on your hands as you work
luke’s eyes narrow, and you can see the rage boiling beneath the surface. he’s frustrated, jealous, and he doesn't know what to do with all these emotions. you’ve never seen him like this before, and it's a thrill to know that you have the power to make him feel this way
you try to ignore the tense atmosphere in the room, focusing instead on luke's wounds. you finish cleaning and bandaging the cut on his wrist, holding it up to your face to land a soft kiss on the bandages. “all done” you whisper. he tenses at the feeling of your soft lips, and you can see the anger in his eyes. however, you can also see a hint of something else— desire
you look up at him with a smile, knowing that you've got him right where you want him. his eyes are locked on your every movement. you know that you have him wrapped around your finger, and it's a delicious feeling of power
luke’s expression is one of confusion, a mix of rage and desire. he wants you, and he wants to hate you at the same time. it’s a weird combo, but it's working for you.
you lean closer to him, your lips inches away from each other. you can feel his breath on your skin, the heat of his body as he's lying there
"you’re not stopping me" you state, breaking the silence. it’s a quiet, soft whisper, filled with a tiny bit of amusement
"maybe.. maybe i don’t want you to stop" he says, his eyes locked on yours, voice low and husky. you can see the desire building in him, how his gaze trails down to your lips
luke’s breathing quickened, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. he knew that this was a game for you, a game where you would always be determined to win him over, but now, in this very moment, he felt like he was losing
he lets out a hiss of frustration, of desire, of... something. he’s sure knows that you're proud of it, but he’s not quite sure what to do about it
you leaned in for the kiss, your lips pressing gently against his, your hand running through his hair. you could feel his body tensing, his hands gripping your waist as he attempted to pull you on top of him
you pull away from the kiss slowly, your lips still pressed to his. luke is still trying to catch his breath, his eyes fixed on yours, searching for any hint of what your next move will be
"not bad" you whisper. "you’re playing a dangerous game here” he chuckles lowly, making your lower regions throb. you smirk softly and brush his hair out of his face “i’ll take my chances”
despite being injured, he pulls you on top of him, making you realize just how hard he’s been this whole time. his eyes are dark, and you can see the lust burning within them
you lean in for another kiss, this one soft and gentle. luke groans when he feels you grind against him, his hands moving down to grab hold of your ass
“i need you s’bad” he mutters out. you smirk as you slide off him, making him furrow his brows in confusion. you land a soft kiss on his cheek. “let’s do this when you’re not injured” you whisper in his ear. now he was alone and hard in the infirmary, how nice
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© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.
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justauthoring · 1 year ago
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I really like your Tokyo revengers He’s Taken scenario. What if it happened in reverse where someone told the boys that they would be a better fit for reader <3
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TOKYO REVENGERS - UM, SHE'S TAKEN?
includes: manjiro "mikey" sano, hanma shuji, baji keisuke and kazutora hanemiya all include xfem!reader!
a/n: this is so late but i felt i should actually do a request for once :) and i always love me some jealous boys!
MIKEY:
The audacity of this man.
That was all Mikey could think.
Did he not know who he was? Did he not know who you were dating? The Invisible Mikey, Toman's Leader and the most handsome boy you knew?
Clearly not.
Frowning, Mikey watches with barely concealed disdain as your classmate (the one you’ve been complaining to him about for weeks now) follows you outside of the school. He couldn’t always pick you up from school with Toman business and the like, but today he’d made sure he’d be able to after you’d texted him the day before that your annoying classmate had proceeded to take his infatuation with you a step further and follow you out of school. It had taken you great convincing to get him not to ‘walk you home’ as he so eloquently put it – stalking more like it – and though you’d tried to play it off, Mikey knew how scared you were.
The second your eyes fall on Mikey making his way over to you, he sees the instant relief that floods through them. Despite everything, Mikey can't help but feel slightly smug at that, hands shoved nonchalantly in his pockets as he crosses the distance over to you.
"Y/N-channn!" He calls out, arms stretched out towards you and with a single brief glance at the boy next to you, you all but race towards him, allowing yourself to fall into his arms. Mikey hates the way he feels you shake slightly beneath his fingertips, and he throws a not-so-subtle glare the classmates way, who – as he figured – is glaring right back at him.
"Y/N," the classmate calls, and Mikey's eyes narrow at his familiarity when regarding you. "Who's this?"
You lean back from his hug, and Mikey can see you look rather annoyed at the question – clearly, you've told him this before.
"Mikey," Mikey cuts in dryly, "her boyfriend."
And he must really not know who Mikey is because he has the gall to laugh.
"Boyfriend?" Haru laughs, mockingly and loudly, head thrown back as you cast a quick glance up at Mikey in uncertainy, trying to gauge he's reaction. Truthfully, Mikey looks unphased. "I thought you were joking about that, Y/N."
And then Haru steps forward, moving towards you; "I mean, you and me make a much better–"
It happens in a flash. Suddenly, you're no longer in Mikey's arms and rather set gently behind him, Mikey’s body blocking your view as Haru's hand that was outstretched towards you is now tightly grasped in Mikey's fist. A quick glance at Haru's face, and you can tell that Mikey's grip is tight, his face twisting with pain.
"Did I forget to mention?" Mikey smiles, "I'm also the leader of Toman."
Haru's eyes widen and he looks scared–well, shitless.
Mikey's grip tightens, finding the way all colour leaves Haru's face rather amusing and the way the panic wells with pain as Mikey bends his arm to the point of just being about to break.
"Now, what was that about you and Y/N-chan being a better match?"
"I was wrong!" Haru cries, voice pitching pathetically, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"
"Don't apologize to me," Mikey shrugs, "apologize to Y/N-chan for making her so uncomfortable for the past few weeks."
Slowly, Mikey takes a step back, allowing you to fall in the view of Haru again, who, near crying, falls to his knees. "I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!"
Cheeks red slightly in embarrassment, you turn to Mikey.
He lets go with ease, Haru falling to the ground with one last cry, before Mikey makes his way to you, pulling you back into his arms with a wide grin.
"Let's go eat!" Mikey calls out with a cheer, snuggling into you. "I want you to feed me!"
HANMA:
"I mean, you're no good for her."
There's a beat. One long, single beat of silence before Hanma can't hold himself back anymore and he burst into laughter.
You, whose stood next to him, looks at him in disbelief, eyes widening as Hanma all but cackles in response to Asahi's words. Asahi, to be fair, looks just a stunned, and with a frown, you step towards your boyfriend, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket.
"Shuji!" You hiss, grip tightening on him.
He falls quiet at that, letting his eyes drift across you briefly, taking in the worried look in your eyes and the laughter stops at that. Hanma lets his eyes fall back on this boy, Asahi apparently, and the frown deepens – you were scared of this guy? He looked like wind might blow him over.
Besides, didn't you trust him to protect you?
A single glance back at you, and you're still throwing worried glances at Asahi, shuffled close to his side.
Guess he had something else to prove then.
"That's funny," Hanma finally speaks up, letting his eyes fall on Asahi with disinterest. "Hilarious actually." But all the humour has left his body, and Hanma simply stares back at the boy with a straight face.
Asahi falters, just slightly.
"I-I mean, you're a deliquent!" He calls out, gesturning in front of him at Hanma, before his eyes fall on you. "I mean, surely you can see that being with him will be nothing but a bad influence. If you were–"
Hanma steps in front of you, blocking you effectively from him.
"You don't get to talk to her," Hanma states rather bluntly.
Asahi turns to him, lips parting.
"You're not worthy enough to talk to her, pipsqueak. So let's keep this between you and me, huh?"
The air changes, thickens, and although you can't see it, you can practically sense as Asahi grows nervous, registering the glint in Hanma's gaze as he stares him down.
"I mean, surely, if you knew I was a... what did you say? Delinquent." Hanma snorts, "you think you'd have the brains to realize I'm not someone to mess with. And I don't take kindly to idiots like you trying to tell me who my girl should or shouldn't be with."
Hanma takes a step forward then, towering over the boy whose skin has grown pale, eyes flooding with fear as he stares up at Hanma.
"I especially don't take kindly to you scaring my girl either."
"I-I–"
Grabbing Asahi by the collar of his jacket, Asahi falls silent as Hanma pulls him up until he's standing on the tip of his toes, kicking his feet beneath him.
"But it seems I screwed up too, huh? My girl shouldn't have to be afraid because she should know I'd never let anyone touch her, let alone look at her if they made her uncomfortable."
There's a pause and Hanma's gaze grows wild as his fist slowly raises beside him, Asahi's cries of panic and pleads of mercy simply a background noise.
"So it looks like I gotta show her why."
BAJI:
"You're loud."
Well, Baji guessed he couldn't necessarily argue with that.
"You're rash."
That, too... maybe.
"You're not very smart."
Uh, ouch.
"You act without thinking. It could get Y/N hurt."
Okay, well that was just rude.
You were always Baji's top priority.
Well, that and fighting. But, still.
"I think I'd be a much better fit for her."
Baji should've figured this is where the conversation was going. Letting his eyes drift across the boy stood in front of him, he takes in the sight of his Toman uniform. He doesn't readily recognize the boy, so he's certainly not in his division.
Ballsy, he'd admit.
But stupid nonetheless.
He's probably in Mitsuya's division, Baji laughs to himself.
Well, not for much longer.
"I'll take your silence as a sign you agree with me–"
"I wouldn't jump to conclusions," Baji chuckles, grinning down widely at the boy. "What makes you think you're so great for Y/N? I know she's happy with me."
Lips parting, the boy pauses; "what?"
"You listed off all the reasons why you think I'm not a good fit for her, right?" He quirks a brow, and the boy nods. "So, tell me why you think you're a good match for her. You win, I'll break up with Y/N. And if you lose... well, needless to say." With a wide grin, Baji cracks his knuckles, baring his fists down at the boy.
The boys eyes widen, and he fumbles for a second, before he steels himself, inhaling deeply.
"Well, I'm smart, for one–"
"Wrong," Baji cuts in, "Y/N doesn't like smart guys. Why else would she have gone for me?"
Faltering, the boy shakes his head; "w-well, I'm a good cook–"
"Y/N prefers cooking herself," Baji shakes his head. "It's her passion."
Cheeks redenning, the boy rushes to add; "I-I'm! I'm strong!"
Baji just laughs; "not as strong as me. You're not even a vice captain of Toman!"
Thoroughly embarrassed, the boy hesitates, face bright red.
"Looks like you lose," Baji sings, stepping towards the boy. "I mean, if you really knew Y/N, you'd know the most important thing."
"W-What?"
"That none of that matters because she loves me!"
"You can't just–"
He never finishes what he's about to say before a fist makes contact with his cheek, knocking him off his feet and sending him straight to the ground.
Baji glances down at him with a blink.
"Strong my ass."
He makes a move toward him, before;
"Keisuke!"
Eyes lighting up, Baji spins, grinning at the sight of you. "Y/N!"
You fall in front of him, eyes flickering from the boy groaning on the ground back to him, "did you get in another fight again?"
Baji shrugs; "the guy deserved it. Not much of a fight either.”
And your eyes fall back on the boy on the ground and there's a flicker of hope where he thinks you might help but, but then after a moment you follow Baji's lead, shrugging, letting him take your hand in his before leading him off.
Guess Baji was right – you really did love him.
KAZUTORA:
"I mean, didn't you go to juvie?"
Frowning, Kazutora glares at the man, Daiki as he'd introduced himself as, in front of him. He was apparently a co-worker of yours, though Kazutora's never heard you talk about him before.
Stuck at this party your work was holding for you as a celebration for the promotion you'd received and your excellent work at the company, Kazutora had gotten a whole half hour of your time before you'd been whisked off by two woman, you offering an apologetic smile over your shoulder in response.
At the time, Kazutora hadn't minded – this night was for you after all and he wanted you to enjoy it.
Now, though? He desperately wanted to leave.
"How do you even know that?" Kazutora asks, his patience thin.
"I did some research when Y/N mentioned your name," Daiki shrugs. "Of course, when she mentioned you she hadn't mentioned that."
It's obviously meant as a jab. But Kazutora knew you weren't embarrassed of him – at least, he'd been pretty sure of that.
"Well, it's not really any of your business is it?" Kazutora cuts in, barely able to contain the snide in his tone. He barely liked socializing with people anyway, especially strangers, but he'd gone for you and because he wanted to be apart of your celebration. It was the least he could do after all you'd done for him.
But now he wishes he’d stayed home if he had to continue dealing with this guy.
"Still," Daiki insists, "aren't you embarrassed? I mean, such an upstanding woman... it's a wonder why she ever chose you."
"I chose him because I love him for him," you cut in and Kazutora’s eyes widen, glancing over his shoulder to see you making your way over to him. You look absolutely stunning, dressed in a floor length Y/F/C dress and when you notice his eyes on you, you smile at him, before it falters as you turn back to glance at your coworker. "But I hardly think that's any of your business anyways."
You fall next to Kazutora, wrapping your arm around his waist as you fall into his side, and the second you do, you squeeze Kazutora's side, and he realizes you're trying to reassure him.
"Y/N–!"
"Honestly, Daiki," you breathe out, voice coming out purposely exasperated as you roll your eyes. "I've had this conversation with you multiple times. I am happily in a relationship and your obsession with my personal affairs is strange and inappropriate. Given my promotion, I could easily have you fired."
Kazutora watches as the man's eyes widen, cheeks bleeding red as he shakes his head; "my-my apologies. Please, you don't have to go that far. I'll... I'll make sure I stop."
You raise a brow, holding the man with bated breath for a moment, before you nod. "Just don't let it happen again."
Daiki scurries off without another word, desperate to get away and Kazutora watches as you let out a sigh, shoulders falling as you shift, coming to stand in front of him, hands falling on his hips.
"I'm sorry about him. He's been... annoyingly persistant about asking me out for the past bit. I thought he'd have stopped when I reported him last week but when I saw him talking to you just now, I realized he hadn't."
Kazutora glances down at you, meeting your gaze.
You understand what he's trying to say before he even does; "nuh-uh," you shake your head, tugging him closer to you. "Don't let a word that idiot says get to you. He's just a pervert anyways. He spends half of his time looking down my shirt and I would never want to be with someone like him over you."
Biting his lips, Kazutora smiles softly; "I love you."
"I love you too," you grin, before slipping your hand into his. "Now, come on, I want to introduce you to my friends."
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reidsworld · 3 months ago
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Disobeyed Orders
Summary: Being married to your boss has its complications, especially when you have a habit of ignoring orders. Based on this request.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff, Angst
Content Warnings: Mild violence, injury, arguing
Word Count: 1.1k
Mars speaks… Thank you so much for the request, I’m sorry that it took so long but I finally found some time to write, I hope I did your request justice!!
Masterlist
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The mission had been intense from the start. You knew Aaron — Hotch, here in the field — had ordered you to stay back and cover the rear, but you saw an opening, a chance to catch the unsub off guard. You’d hesitated for a split second, hearing his voice in your earpiece, a mix of command and concern, but the adrenaline took over. You went for it.
Moments later, everything was a blur. The unsub had turned, a knife flashing in his hand, and you’d barely managed to dodge the attack. By the time the team swarmed in, you were grappling on the ground, the unsub subdued but not without a few bruises in the process.
As soon as the cuffs were on, you felt Hotch’s hand on your arm, his grip firm. He pulled you aside, his face unreadable, but his eyes were burning with a quiet fury. “What the hell were you thinking?” he growled under his breath, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.
“I saw an opportunity,” you argued, your chest heaving from exertion. “I took it.”
“That’s not your call to make,” he snapped, his hand tightening on your arm. “I gave you an order, and you directly disobeyed it.”
You felt a surge of frustration, tugging your arm free. “I’m not a child, Aaron. I made a decision based on the situation.”
“An incredibly reckless decision,” he countered, his jaw set tight. “You could have been seriously hurt. Or worse.”
You crossed your arms, bristling at the way he was speaking to you like you were just another agent. “I knew what I was doing. I had it under control.”
“Under control?” He almost laughed, but there was no humour in it. “You were pinned down by an armed suspect. That’s not under control, Y/N.”
Your heart pounded, anger simmering beneath the surface. “I’ve been doing this job long enough to know what risks I can handle, Hotch. You don’t get to—”
He cut you off, his voice lowering but still fierce. “Don’t you Hotch me. Not when you just put yourself in danger like that. Not when you’re my—” He stopped himself, glancing around at the team.
You knew what he wanted to say. Not when you’re my wife. But he couldn’t say that here, not in front of everyone. The silence between you was thick with tension, his jaw clenched, and you could see the storm brewing in his eyes.
“Fine,” you muttered, feeling the sting of his words. “Let’s talk about this later.”
He nodded curtly, his expression hard. “Yes. We will.”
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Back at the BAU, the air was thick with unspoken tension as you both debriefed with the team. You could feel Hotch’s eyes on you, a steady, burning gaze that only made your irritation grow. You knew the others sensed it too, the way they exchanged glances but said nothing. They all knew you were married to your boss, and while most of the time it didn’t interfere, today was different.
As soon as the debrief was over, Hotch gestured for you to follow him to his office. You walked in, arms crossed, ready for another round. He shut the door behind you, locking it before turning to face you.
“We need to talk,” he began, his voice still low but more controlled now.
“Talk?” you scoffed. “Or are you just going to keep reprimanding me like I’m one of your agents and not your wife?”
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, you are one of my agents. And on the field, I am your superior. You need to follow my orders.”
“I understand that,” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “But you can’t expect me to stand by when I see an opportunity to take down a threat.”
Hotch’s expression softened, just a bit. “It’s not about the threat, Y/N. It’s about you. Do you know what it does to me, to see you put yourself in harm’s way like that? To think I could lose you because you wouldn’t listen?”
You blinked, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard. “Aaron…”
He stepped closer, his hands reaching out to grip your shoulders, his thumb brushing against your collarbone. “You’re not just another agent to me,” he murmured, his voice strained. “You’re my wife. My everything. And I need you to understand that when I give an order, it’s not just to keep the team safe — it’s to keep you safe.”
You felt a pang of guilt at the fear in his eyes, the way his hands tightened on you like he was afraid to let go. “I know,” you whispered. “But I can’t just stand back and do nothing, Aaron. It’s not who I am.”
He sighed, his forehead resting against yours. “I don’t want you to change who you are. I just… I need you to trust me. To trust that I’ll always have your back, that I’ll always protect you.
You swallowed hard, the intensity of his gaze making your heart ache. “I do trust you,” you replied softly. “But you have to understand that I’m not going to just sit by and let you carry all the weight. I’m your partner — in life and on the field.”
His eyes softened, his thumb tracing circles on your shoulder. “I know,” he murmured. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just… promise me you’ll be more careful. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
You nodded, feeling the tension slowly dissolve between you. “I promise,” you whispered.
He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that melted the last of your resistance. You sighed against him, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.
When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You chuckled softly, your fingers tangling in his tie. “It’s part of my charm.”
He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made your heart flutter. “I suppose it is.”
He kissed you again, deeper this time, and you felt all the frustration and fear of the day melt away, leaving only the warmth of his love and the steady reassurance of his presence.
“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with emotion.
“I love you too,” you replied, your hand cupping his cheek. “And I promise… I’ll try to follow orders. Sometimes.”
He chuckled, pulling you closer. “I’ll take that.”
And in that moment, you knew that no matter how many arguments or tense moments lay ahead, you’d always find your way back to each
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Mars speaks… (again) Thank you for reading! Any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶
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joelsdagger · 3 months ago
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walk the line || one shot
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masterlist | ao3
pairing: boston qz!joel x f!reader summary: you and joel have a deal: sex in exchange for supplies. no questions asked. so what happens when you do? or joel fucks you while you’re in a headlock. that’s pretty much it. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: boston qz era, undefined relationship, mentions of sexual favors, choking, rough unprotected p in v sex, dark!joel, mean!joel [in the sense that he doesn’t let her come oops :( ], dubcon [reader tries to loosen his grip], noncon [i’m putting this here just in case], no aftercare. think that’s it. word count: 1.2k
a/n: just….don’t ask. i don’t know what this is. thank you to @papurgaatika for holding a gun to my head so i would post this looking this over, love you schmooks <3 
please heed the tags. protect your peace if this isn’t for you.
He’s being rough. Rougher than the countless times he’s fucked you before. 
In the time since you and Joel started this whole arrangement, you never needed to tell him to fuck you at a blistering pace. He just did it. 
Because you and him are the same. He told you that once. He said that you and him are two sides of the same coin. Both of you are always keeping your walls up and people out. Always keeping everyone at arm’s length. It made this arrangement easy, simple. 
There was just one rule: Nothing personal. A rule you happily got on board with. Getting personal is not really your thing. You learned that it was easier to survive at the end of the world without having someone to care about. Staying detached worked for you. You didn’t care enough about Joel Miller to even bother giving him a second thought. 
At least, that’s what you wanted to believe. 
A few minutes ago, you made the mistake of doing just that. 
You got personal. Flicked open the glass casing and pushed the big red button. Nobody gets personal with Joel Miller. Most importantly, you don’t. No. Never you. And now he’s punishing you. Maybe he’s punishing himself too, because he didn’t stop you. Didn’t stop this.
He’s being brutal, intense, and mean. And usually you could handle it because, like plenty of times before, you wanted him to.
But this time, you didn’t.
Your cunt is sensitive, and it hurts; it burns more and more with every rough snap of his hips; warm liquid pricks at your eyes in discontent. Your swollen cunt betrays you, squeezes around his wide girth, and he grunts against the shell of your ear in response. You’re sure he thinks you're begging him for more. To him, the swift flutter of your cunt is a silent tell to pick up the pace. 
And he does. Relentlessly. 
With every unforgiving thrust of his hips, knocking the wind out of your lungs, and the firm hold of his forearm against your neck, compressing your throat, you were barely hanging on. Black spots spatter across your vision, and your eyes slip closed; tears of anguish streak down your cheeks.
It’s too much. You choke on a sob, and your hand comes up to his left arm, weakly tugging at it, attempting to make space between the crook of his elbow and your neck to suck in an ephemeral breath of air. 
Instead, he tightens his grip on you; his left arm pulls you into his chest, and his right hand moves heavily to the top of your head as he brutally fucks up into your throbbing hole. Your head dips back beneath his chin, and the crown of your skull stings as the plastic clip hanging out at the bottom of the valve of his gas mask digs into your scalp.
Your failure to follow his rule — his only rule — had pissed him off so immensely that he didn’t even waste a second to remove his mask.
His muffled voice cuts through the thick haze that took over your mind. “Stay,” he orders through gritted teeth, and you obey.
Because he’s teaching you a lesson.
With him, you mind your tongue.
With him, you do as you're told. 
With him, you don’t ask questions.
With him, you don’t get fucking personal. 
And with your head locked between both of his strong arms and his fat cock hammering your cunt, punching at your cervix — forcing himself in — he makes certain of that. Makes your mind go fucking blank. Because when your sloppy cunt is stuffed full of his cock, your mind goes fuzzy, and your body goes limp in his hold, you are in no position to question him. To pry. To challenge him. To fight him. A brutal, shattering reminder that Joel Miller calls the shots.
And Joel doesn’t say a word. Not this time. Not when he’s using your body as a way to cope with his anger — to get himself off. It’s all breathless groans and grunts that tell you your holes are enough to satisfy him. And for a moment, you can’t help but wonder if this is how he always saw you — a means to an end.
Maybe you felt the same way about him.
You don’t have time to dwell on it because then you feel it — he twitches inside your aching cunt, signaling his rapid release. He hisses as he pulls out of your wasted hole, his length bobs against the crease beneath your ass, smearing your sweaty skin with your mixed wet. His cock throbs against you as his seed spills onto your quivering legs, coating your inner thighs, and leaking onto the tattered, moth-eaten mattress. 
You whimper pathetically as his arms release you, and your shuddering form falls forward, crashing into the dusty mattress beneath you. Your chest heaves as your hand comes up to the column of your neck, your weak fingers pressing at the sharp, searing pang there. You don’t doubt your skin has already begun to smart. You cough profusely as your lungs fill with air, a humiliating attempt at catching your breath. 
Joel’s left hand comes down beside your head on the mattress, cushioning his fall as he hovers over you. He groans as his other hand replaces your cunt, and with every fast, wet pump of his fist, the pulsing tip bumps against your skin; his release now paints the small of your back.
A first. 
And in the back of your mind, you try telling yourself it’s his way of claiming you — that he still wants you after you stepped out of line. Your stomach lurches at the same time your cunt flutters at the thought. You’re not sure how you feel about it, but you do know you feel empty without him inside you. And other than what happened here, he typically makes you feel good. Leaves you satisfied before he chases his own release.
Today, he didn’t. He used your body as a means for punishment, and you let him. A penance. For crossing the line he told — you both agreed not to overstep. 
A few moments later, you’re pulling your distressed jeans over your cum-coated thighs while your glassy eyes watch Joel as he zips up his own, his eyes fixed on the molded wooden floor in front. “Joel,” your voice hoarse and raw. 
He peers up at you beneath his lashes, the sunlight clawing through the taped-up window catches on his eyes; the amber in his hazel irises glowering in the light. 
“It won’t happen again,” you whisper.
“No,” he leans forward, grabs his gas mask you didn’t notice he pulled off, and the orange pill bottle you were meant to deliver to him without sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, and he grunts while he moves to stand, “it won’t.” 
And only when his heavy footsteps fade down the dark hallway of the abandoned building on the outskirts of the QZ, leaving you alone to stare back at the pale, rotten wallpaper with a painful and pleading ache between your trembling legs, do you realize exactly why no one defies Joel fucking Miller.
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Next caller.
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《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader
《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.
《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.
Word count: 3.9k
A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.
Mini series masterlist
18+ no minors
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Year 1990
Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.
Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.
Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.
He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.
You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house parties and girls, giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.
You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.
One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.
You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.
Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.
You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.
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A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.
You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.
"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.
You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"
You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.
You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."
You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.
The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.
The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"
You struggled to find your voice yet again.
"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.
"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.
He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."
"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.
"That's okay. We'll keep this anonymous." He replied.
His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.
You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."
"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.
"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.
His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."
"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.
"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.
He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "
"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.
Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.
Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct?"
"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.
"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.
You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.
"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.
"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.
"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.
'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.
A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"
"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.
"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."
You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.
"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.
"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.
"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.
You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."
"That's a good girl." He praised.
You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.
"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"
Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.
"I got it." You whisper into the phone.
He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."
You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.
"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.
"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.
"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.
He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."
"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.
"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"
"That's my good girl." He cooed.
You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"
"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.
You gulped into the phone." Yeah."
His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.
"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.
"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"
"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.
"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.
"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"
A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.
"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.
You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"
You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."
"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.
You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.
"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.
"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.
He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."
"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.
"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.
Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.
Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."
His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.
"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.
"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.
He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."
His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.
Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.
"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.
"S'close." You whined.
"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.
The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.
You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.
Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.
Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.
Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.
"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.
With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.
"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.
"How was it?" He asked, hoping you had a good time.
"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.
"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.
His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.
He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."
You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.
Laying there resisting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.
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godslino · 7 months ago
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HARD LAUNCH | minho drabble. established relationship.
“Do you guys have french fries?”
“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.
He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you. 
“We do, yes.” 
“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”
“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands. 
“Why would you do that?” 
Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.
“Do what?”
Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”
Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”
“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”
A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat. 
Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.
“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”
“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”
“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off. 
Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.
“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.” 
You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness. 
Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.
“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.
“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.
He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.
It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.
Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned. 
But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.
“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.
“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?” 
Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.
“Do I get to be in it this time?”
You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet. 
You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.
It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.
"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."
Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”
You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”
Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food. 
Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.
Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.
“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording. 
He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”
“Are you insane?”
“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”
“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”
Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.
He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.
Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.
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tame-the-lion-writes · 2 months ago
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tomboy reader x 141 - shopping
(Light warning for reader being self-conscious and insecure about her femininity.)
For the longest time, the boys of 141 don't see their tomboy teammate as a "girl." Not maliciously, of course, but it simply doesn't cross their mind.
It's not that you aren't pretty, but they're so conditioned to see you as "another one of the guys" that they don't spare a passing glance. You don't exactly dress up, either, and they haven't seen you in a skirt or dress. Nor do you have the most feminine interests--at least not that they know of--because their time with you is spent shooting at enemies, covered in blood, and kicking up dust. In short, the usual masculine tendency to see women as precious or dainty doesn't kick in. Because you're anything but.
Because you're a soldier.
In a way, you've grown to love it and hate it. The feminist side of you craves that respect and treatment as an equal. The other side of you, however, whatever the label may be, craves the idea of being wanted. You want to dress up nice and be small and cute. You want to wear heels and fluttery skirts and bows. You want to feel so sweet and sugary, that you could curl up in the palm of someone's hand--not afraid to be vulnerable and adoring and soft. Because you'd trust that person to still love and care for you, no matter how weak you allow yourself to be.
You never bring it up, though. At least not until Price asks if you have anything to wear to some fancy event, where you're stuck with a good old dress code.
"Yeaah... about that," you say with a sheepish smile. "Might have to get time off base to find something, sir. Don't think the pantsuit from my friend's wedding is gonna cut it."
"You don't got a dress? Not even one?"
"Was never the most comfortable in 'em, sir. Besides, I'm saving up for a house," you shrug. "I'm not out to buy some thousand dollar getup or jewelry." (And therein, beneath, lay the denial that if you didn't try to look feminine, you wouldn't look ridiculous doing so--imitating something you could never be.)
"Ooh, we should go shopping," Soap suggests with grin, leaning forward from his seat on the couch. "Think ol' Ghost here needs a bigger suit, anyway. Put on a few pounds--"
"Soap--"
"--of muscle! What--you think I was shaming ya?"
You roll your eyes, an anxious heat burning in your cheeks. "I can handle shopping myself, guys." And you didn't want them to be judging you for anything you put on.
"Oh, please, Gaz an' I are used to tagging along with our sisters," Soap continues, wrapping an arm around his fellow sergeant. Surprisingly, Gaz agrees with a nod.
"Not saying that you have to take us with you," Gaz starts, "but waiting outside a dressing room a couple hours is nothing."
"Long as we get food, of course," Soap adds.
"Well," Price notes, clearing his throat, "I'm in need of a new tie, too, so seems like it's settled. Ghost--and you?"
The masked man lets out a grunt, arms crossed on his recliner.
"... New suit."
Cue a little, "Ha! I knew it," from Soap. As well as Price filing for a one day vacation from the base.
** * **
You can practically feel the eyes trailing after you and the boys while you walk through the mall. Soap is loud enough as is, and combined with Gaz, both make for a pretty face. Then there's Ghost who just towers over everyone and looks like a cryptid with his mask, and Price who follows with the charm of an older gentleman. A posse of bachelors, that is.
You pick at the hem of your sleeve as you walk ahead--the default leader for today, seen as despite the boys' side quests, the main quest was you. Dressing you up in an elegant dress. Finding you matching heels and accessories. Making you look pretty and presentable.
So now you're here, standing in the dressing room of a fancy first-class boutique you could otherwise never afford--if it weren't for Price's insistence that, as your captain, it was his responsibility to make sure you looked "dapper." You smooth out the off-white creme of the skirt, staring in the mirror; you think you look pretty enough, and the pearl earrings add a certain charm to your otherwise plain features. (Though really, you're stressed that you'll seem more like a child playing dress-up--riddled with the self-consciousness of a girl trying imitate her mother, looking back at the gaudy mascara and smudged lipstick across her cheek.)
But there's no stalling. No more taking forever. The clock is ticking, and you either be judged for how you look, or judged for wasting time, or breaking down in refusal. (You know they'd never judge you--they're good men, you know--but still. You'd pick at your sleeve again if it was there--)
"Ready," you call from behind the curtain, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the light.
And all your fears melt away when they stop their banter to look at you, and their eyes widen--then soften--at the sight.
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sukunasweetheart · 14 hours ago
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the tiger and his milk! 🐯
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in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...
warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop
word count; 6.5k
dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto
do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...
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moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.
being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 
that, and also-
strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.
setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.
your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.
even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.
tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.
walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.
"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.
dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.
"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."
you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.
sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...
but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.
once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.
you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...
you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-
what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-
your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.
at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.
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you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.
but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.
your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.
the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.
"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.
"need help?"
sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.
"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.
but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.
"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.
he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.
sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.
and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.
the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?
well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.
by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.
you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.
"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.
"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.
"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."
he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.
"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.
"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."
you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.
"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.
he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.
"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."
you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.
"...we're neighbours, after all."
you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.
"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.
seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.
"thanks for the drink. see you."
it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.
not at all...
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the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.
it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.
such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.
today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.
nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.
you can feel your breasts leaking again.
just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.
your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.
the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...
it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.
you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...
just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.
who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.
but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.
sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.
he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.
"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.
sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...
"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.
"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.
"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.
"hold on a second."
you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.
once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?
in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.
your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.
sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.
"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.
"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.
he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.
your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.
"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.
you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.
you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.
"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.
"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.
sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.
"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.
sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.
"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.
not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.
the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.
sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...
his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.
"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.
he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.
"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.
sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.
your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.
sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.
he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.
"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.
sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.
your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.
sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.
"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.
"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.
"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.
"shut up, you."
in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.
you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.
"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.
"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.
you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.
he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.
you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.
"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.
he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...
"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.
the realisation hits you like a truck.
"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.
and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.
you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.
as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.
he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.
"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.
you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.
"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.
your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.
"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.
and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.
you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.
"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.
sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.
"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."
his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.
you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.
"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.
he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.
sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.
when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.
his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.
the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.
sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.
sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...
but you make him feel so right.
and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.
"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.
you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.
the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.
"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.
"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.
"hold onto me."
he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.
when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.
the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.
he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.
sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.
you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.
his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.
his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.
you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.
"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.
you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.
sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.
you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.
you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.
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once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.
problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.
you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.
"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.
"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.
"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.
when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.
"finally awake?"
"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.
"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.
"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."
"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.
"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.
you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.
"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.
"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.
you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.
"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.
"hm. well, how about steak?"
"... is that a threat?"
sukuna bursts into laughter.
he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.
unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.
after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.
when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...
the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!
originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...
btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...
anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn
often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy
thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.
and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.
and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"
there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.
"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.
it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.
also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.
when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you
he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.
shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.
the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.
the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days
the end
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gay-dorito-dust · 8 months ago
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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn s/o asking to kiss him on his forehead in hopes that it would bring him the same love & comfort they felt whenever they received it?
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Sunday: his first reaction is; aww aren’t you just the most precious and adorable thing he’s ever seen.
He immeditly obeys your wish and presents you his forehead, where you planted a soft, tender kiss against.
He instantly relaxes beneath the featherlight touch of your lips against his forehead, smiling softly as he selfishly indulges himself in your presence and the way you managed to calm him without uttering a single word.
Your wish is his command in every sense of the word.
You’re probably the only person he’d gladly kneel before, but only in private though because he wasn’t fond of people staring at what was meant to be a special moment between two lovers.
And the fact that you weren’t fond of overcrowded places, regardless of whether they were staff members hired by The Family or just regular pedestrians who can’t go a single day without sticking their noses into things that don’t concern them.
So before anything happens Sunday makes sure to take you to your shared room for a much more private setting for the both of you.
After all this moment was meant for you two and you two alone.
So back to the moment you kissed his forehead, Sunday felt the weight of his responsibilities slip off his shoulders like water off a ducks back and he could even feel himself breath again now the weight was nonexistent; And you were to thank for making him feel that way.
You, sweet, kind, generous, you. Sunday’s own personal angel who makes him forget about his duty and make him feel alive again as you breathed new life into him with just a forehead kiss.
Welt: he would welcome the idea of you giving him a forehead kiss wholeheartedly.
He knows that it was nearly an impossible task for you to ask anything of him and he’s more then willing to let you go at your own pace, as he could clearly see that you didn’t expect to get this far.
‘You don’t have to do it if you don’t feel up to it just yet dearest.’ He says calmly as he places a comforting hand on yours. ‘There’s no time limit to do things under, so please take your time and remember to take deep breaths if needed.’ He adds.
He just wants you to feel comfortable and not feel pressured to do something that you weren’t comfortable with doing just yet. For it wasn’t fair on you in the slightest.
‘No. I want to do this, it’s just-‘ you then took a deep breath before refocusing yourself in the moment. ‘You know what I’m just going to kiss your forehead now. If that’s alright with you.’
Welt smiles. ‘It’s more than alright with me. Please continue.’
The moment your lips touched Welt’s forehead, he felt as though he were a young boy in love, everything he was feeling the longer your lips lingered were both indescribable and addicting.
He felt warm, he felt giddy, he felt excited but most of all he felt loved, cherished and really happy.
Nothing else existed in that moment but you two and that was fine by him because at the end of the day he would love nothing more than for it to be you whom he sees no matter what.
He often feels as though he wasn’t putting as much time in your relationship as he was with anything else but when you kissed his forehead, all of those worries he had yet to speak up upon faded away as he was reassured with the way you treated him as though he were priceless.
For he viewed you within the same point of view and was glad that feeling was reciprocated tenfold.
Gallagher; ‘Gallagher, can I-‘
‘Yes.’ He says with impeccable speed.
‘I-i haven’t even asked yet-‘
‘You don’t have to because my answer is yes little bird.’ He cuts you off once again with a wolfish smile before dragging you to sit on his lap as you rested your hands against his shoulders for stability when you kissed his forehead.
The feeling was incredibly fleeting for Gallagher as before he could fully enjoy the feeling of your lips against his skin, you pulled away, Gallagher was pouting like an overgrown child.
‘What?’ You said, thinking you’ve done something wrong.
‘It wasn’t long enough.’ He mutters and tugs you by the waist, causing you to be flushed against his chest. ‘What wasn’t?’ You asked, not understanding what he was getting at.
‘The forehead kiss.’ He clarified. ‘It wasn’t long enough for my liking so I want another.’ He adds, getting a lot of enjoyment from your wide eyed expression as he lifted your head to meet his eyes with a finger under your chin.
‘Don’t you have work to get back to? Won’t Sunday be mad?’ You questioned, knowing that the Halovian’s patience was wearing thin with Gallagher recently, and you didn’t want him getting into even more trouble just because he wanted more forehead kisses.
‘Who cares what that winged prick thinks little bird,’ Gallagher practically purrs, ‘I’m the one busting my ass. So I feel like I’m more than deserving of an extra five minutes to spend with a cutie like you in my lap, giving me a shit tone of forehead kisses.’ He adds.
And that’s exactly what you ended up doing for those extra five minutes.
Blade: ‘why?’ He asks bluntly.
You fiddled with your sleeve, a force of habit of yours that has stuck with you since as long as you could remember. ‘I just hope that it’ll bring you the same comfort and love I feel when you kiss my forehead.’ You admit sheepishly.
Blade knew the kind of guy he was and he wasn’t one that made people feel loved or comforted, if anything it was the complete opposite, but upon hearing you -sweet,shy and socially awkward you- admit that you feel love and comfort from a simple gesture he’s done once maybe twice.
Blade remained silent for a while before feeling himself begin to crumble under your patience gaze and muttered out a gruff. ‘Sure.’
The twinkle in your eyes and the tender smile across your lips melted his scarred heart, but the moment you gently held his face between your hands as though you were holding something worth admiring and pressed the sweetest kiss against his forehead, Blade felt himself practically become a puddle between your palms.
He hums in content as he closes his eyes and lets the love and comfort you claimed he gave you, spread throughout his body, from the bottom of his feet to the tips of his ears. He could feel your love for him encase him in a protective, warm embrace and Blade couldn’t help but selfishly wish to stay here in this position for the rest of your lives.
However you pulled away and Blade noticed how much colder he felt without your touch as he catches his breath, it almost as though he was plunged into an icy cold bath with the way his muscles became frigid and taut.
He had got a mere taste of your affection and now he craved it more than anything.
Dan Heng; knew how hard it was for you to ask for anything of him, despite him countlessly reminding you that he was more then willing to fulfil your wants and needs the best he could.
So when you managed to muster the strength and asked to kiss his forehead, he felt his cheeks become aflame but lets you do so anyways as he casts his gaze elsewhere, praying that you don’t hear how fast his heart was going.
He purrs. I repeat, he purrs the moment your lips touched his forehead as his inner dragon noodle was bursting with happiness upon receiving your affection. It wasn’t something that happened often but when it did, it was always something that never failed to make you smile and him slightly embarrassed at how easily you affected.
He’s just unsure how to voice his liking for your affection without it coming across as awkward or forced. He’s not a man of words when it comes to you as you often left him speechless and unable to think about anything that wasn’t the feeling of your plush, slightly cracked, lips pressed against his forehead.
In that moment all he could think about was you and how despite your differences, you two couldn’t have been a better match for one another.
It was during tender moments like these did Dan Heng want to cling onto forever for they reminded him that he has someone who was worth everything to him.
Someone who loved him regardless of who he was in the past. Your love knew no bounds and Dan Heng could feel every ounce of that within a simple thing as a forehead kiss.
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bigification · 2 months ago
Text
Prom King
"We want to welcome you back to Fairway High for your ten year reunion. Come catch up with some old friends and share all the amazing adventures you've had since you graduated! And stick around for a special speech from our Prom King and Queen."
Dan shuddered as he read the email. He had completely forgotten about the stupid reunion. It's funny, he thought, he used to imagine how he would show up to the reunion in a sports car with a perfect bod and high end clothes hugging his muscles. But that was back when he was the most popular football player in his town. Parents adored him, popular teens idoled him, and nerds feared him. Things have changed a lot for Dan since then.
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He stared at his half naked body, ravaged by the bad habits of an ex jock. His appetite stayed after he graduated high school, but the exercise didn't last long. He went off to study business in college, as any high school jock did. His time spent at football practice turned to frat parties and junk food, which quickly showed on his waistline. It really put a dent in his once untouched ego, especially once people nicknamed him as 'freshman' fifty. It wasn't quite fifty pounds, at least not in his first year. It sure was well over that by the time he graduated though. And in that time, his clean shaven body had been buried in thick dark hair from head to toe. Although he didn't entirely mind the more mature look, especially once his beard grew in, it complemented his growing gut. Though Dan took another sizable cut to his ego when he started to go bald at the ripe age of 20. Comb overs only lasted him so long, so he started shaving it when he was in his senior year.
He always said it built character, which to be fair, he was far less awful after graduating college than he was in high school. The email only made him remember how awful he was back then. He was the typical jock with his possy of suck up football players who had no personality and the most popular girls. He would torment anyone who was even slightly chubby, or even just smart, they were all beneath him in his mind. How were people gonna react when he shows up to the reunion looking 9 months pregnant and about to burst. It horrified him at the thought of them treating him how he treated them.
Then the horrifying thought hit him, "I'm the Prom King!" He shouted out loud at him in the mirror. Not only would he have to show his face, and gut, he would have to stand on stage in front of his entire graduating year and say a speech about being Prom King. He would be a laughing stock.
"I have to do something about this." He thought.
The reunion was still two weeks away, he could workout, or diet, or maybe buy some clothes that hide his fat. He did a frantic search online but everything just seemed like a scam. He scrolled through page after page of scam supplement and intense workout regimen until he found something interesting. A witch who lived nearby. A witch who specializes in body modifications. It was drastic, but could be crazy enough to work.
Dan contacted the witch with a request to make him into an absolute jock, the kind of man his high school friends would expect him to be 10 years later.
After a bit of back and forth, an appointment was set, and Dan went to bed happy.
The day of the appointment came in a flash. Dan threw on his classic base ball cap to cover his balding head, and dressed in some gym clothes that he thought would look sick on his new hunky body. He excitedly hopped in his car and drove down to the witches house. To his surprise, it was just a regular apartment in a regular apartment building. He was expecting some evil looking house, but seemed less intimidating anyway. He knocked on the door, and he was met with yet another surprise. A petite and nice looking woman wearing all black opened the door.
"Come in darling." Her voice was enchanting. "Sit." She continued in a soft but commanding tone.
Dan sat in a small chair in front of an antique looking table. The raggedy wooden chair creaked under his weight as the witch sat across from him.
"So... You say you want a strong, manly, and attractive appearance?" She asked.
"Yeah."
"Well for what it's worth, you're much more attractive than you used to be." A cold breeze blew past Dan as she spoke.
"Oh... Thank you." His cheeks reddened at the comment.
"I do have to warn you, there are some... dangers to this spell." Her tone darkens.
Dan just raised his eyebrows.
"There are people who feed off of a witch's magic. Now I know how to avoid them, but I will be imbuing this magic into you. So you may have a target on your back from people trying to steal your magic."
"I'm sure I'll be fine."
"Just don't draw too much attention to yourself." The witch warned. "Anyway. I'll get on with it."
She dipped her hands in a small bowl that was laid on the table. "Stand up." She commanded, and Dan followed. She walked around to Dan's side of the table, fingers wet from whatever was in the bowl. She pressed her fingers into his forehead, and it felt like all the tension in his body vanished in a split second. In fact, all feeling seemed to vanish in Dan's body, leaving him stood exactly still. Something about being frozen should have scared him, but he felt a strange sense of calm in the moment.
The witches fingers traced down Dan's face, through his beard and over his soft man tits. She lifted the finger and firmly pressed it back down into his chest. It was like the air was pushed out of his chest as the fat on his moobs collapsed in on itself, leaving his chest completely flat. She then pulled her finger outward, and his pecs grew as she pulled. The muscle swelled until two juicy pecs pressed hard against his tang top. Dan was shocked, he couldn't believe it actually worked, although he still couldn't move.
The witch then traced her finger down to his gut. She laid the palm of her hand against it and pushed, causing his belly to vanish in a second. And once again, she pulled her hand back to form a defined six pack over his flat stomach. She moved her finger around his side, melting away his love handles and giving him a thin waist.
She then suddenly sped up, as if she hit her stride. Her hands gripped Dan's soft arms, and suddenly definition appeared on his rapidly growing biceps. They grew to the size of melons as his shoulders broadened to match. Good thing he wore a tang top or else his sleeves would be in shreds on the floor. Her hands slid down his forearms, doubling their size in the process, and she held his hands, making them so massive they could completely cover his face.
She then bent down and grabbed his thighs, causing them to thicken to the point that Dan couldn't separate them anymore. She thickened his calves as she moved to his feet, making them burst out of his shoes as they grew to a monstrous size 20. As she stood back up, Dan realized the witch stood at eye level to his pecs when they used to be the same height.
The witch then wrapped her arms around Dan's hulking body and cupped his ass cheeks, making them expand into two thick globes of fat that threatened to rip through his shorts. One hand then came back and gripped Dan's dick, making it grow and thicken until it was a massive 10 inches and hanging down his pant leg.
Finally, her hand lifted up to Dan's face, making a few adjustments to match his body. A thicker beard, a sharper jawline, a slightly bigger head to match his much bigger body, and thick brown hair on his head.
Dan gasped as he regained control of his body. He teetered back and forth as he tried to get used to his new body. His legs felt strong, holding up his immense muscle mass with ease. He even struggled to move his arms around at first because it was difficult to move that amount of mass. His meaty hands took a moment to explore his expansive body; bouncing his pecs and his ass, gripping his cock, and even rubbing through the short brown hair that now covered his head.
"How are ya feeling handsome?" The witch broke the silence.
"Are you kidding me, I feel amazing!" Dan flexed, as if to show off his body like a new toy.
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"Well I'm glad you like it, now we should talk abou-" the witch was interrupted as Dan basically ran out the door.
"I'll be fine, thank you!" The sound of his voice got quieter as he shut the door behind him.
On his way home, Dan excitedly stopped by a retail store to grab some clothes that actually fit. He confidently strolled in with his tang top riding up his hairy six pack, and shorts that were clearly too small for him. He picked up a few clothes that were big enough to fit him, but small enough to leave little to the imagination about his physique. The clothes weren't exactly pretty, but nobody would care about the clothes when his hunky body was the one wearing them. He even flirted with the cashier on the way out, making his cheeks flush red.
He swiftly made it home and passed out like he had just had the workout of his life.
He woke up the next morning, feeling like he was still in a dream. He shot out of bed as if he'd had three cups of coffee already. This was how he spent every morning leading up to the reunion. Dan was more productive this week than he had been in years. His looks quickly got him a modest following on Instagram, and even on onlyfans after his followers pestered him enough. He reconnected with a bunch of his old friends from high school, just to build a rapport with them before the reunion. And he spent most nights partying and staying the night at some strangers house. By the time the reunion rolled around, it was as if he was the same person he was in high school. Hot, athletic, cocky as hell, and maybe just a bit nicer than he was back in high school. So much for 'building character'.
Before he knew it, it was time to leave for the reunion. He had been prepping for this all week, there was no way he could mess it up now. Dan was meant to be the Prom King. He wore a snug pair of jeans that hugged his ass perfectly, and a grey shirt that showed off his juicy pecs, and finally threw on the letter jacket he wore when he was Prom King ten years prior.
He pulled up to the reunion in his shitty, half broken down car and parked as far out of the way as possible just so no one could see the piece of shit he drove. He pushed open the door to the venue and walked past the crowd of people as if all eyes were on him, because they were. Everyone who was anyone knew who the Prom King was.
He strolled to the back of the stage, so he could get ready for his speech. He stood alone, in silence for a moment, trying to hype himself up. Even after the amazing week he has had, it was the same insecure fat ex jock under there who was scared that everyone would laugh at him onstage. But his moment of silence was interrupted when loud footsteps approached him from behind.
An older man strolls into the backstage, walking right past Dan as if he wasn't there. Dan grimaced as the man got close, seeing the man's large ball belly hanging out of his shirt, which seemed to have multiple buttons popped off. "What is this pig doing here?" Dan couldn't help but think of the old man. The old man promptly sat down in a chair near Dan, leaning back and pulling the shirt up his gut, as if to show it off.
"Who the fuck are you!?" Dan yelled as he got fed up with the old man's antics.
"Oh, you don't know who I am?" The man said as he continued to adjust himself in the seat.
"Why would I know some loser like you, are you the Prom Queens dad or something." Dan scoffed.
"I thought the witch would have warned you about me." The old man's demeanor became more serious.
Dan felt a jolt of fear run down his spine. How does he know about the witch?
"Oh I bet she did." The man started to laugh. "But all the attention online and the sex and the porn, oh the porn was so good." The man grunted as he rubbed his crotch. "You just couldn't resist being popular!"
Dan only grew more afraid as the man monologued.
"I am going to enjoy this." The old smiled as he got up from the chair.
"Enjoy what?" Dan questioned as he tried to back away, but couldn't. Why couldn't he back away. The old man grew closer and closer, but no matter how much Dan wanted to run, he remained frozen in place. The man placed his finger on Dan's forehead, causing a blue light to escape from his body and enter the man's body.
Dan watched helplessly as the man's arms grew to the size of melons, his biceps bursting through his sleeves. Meanwhile, all Dan could feel was his sleeves becoming looser as his arms deflated. The man's moobs shrunk into a solid pair of pecs as Dan looked down to see his chest swell until he was left with two soft man tits. The man's ball gut got smaller and smaller as fat piled into Dan's stomach, leaving him with a heavy gut that spilled under his shirt. The man's pants grew tighter and tighter as thick muscles filled his thighs and juicy fat perked up his ass. Dan felt weak as his legs became more fat than muscle, he even felt the bulge in his pants shrink as he watched a thick bulge appear in the man's pants.
As if that wasn't enough, Dan watched on in horror as the man's face ages down from 60 down to 30. His wrinkles melted away as Dans became dry and wrinkly, his face thinned out as Dan's became rounder and chubbier, and his hair gained a light brown colour as Dan's thinned out and became white. The man pulled off his shirt to reveal a forest of dark hairs sprouting all over his body as a bushy bread covered his face. Meanwhile Dan can feel his face go cold from the much thinner facial hair.
As the transformation came to an end, the man flexed as he felt the energy course through him.
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Dan once again let out a gasp as he regained control of his body, though this time his voice was much deeper and gruffer. Dan panicked as he ran his hands through all of the new rolls of fat on his body. He even stumbled back as he adjusted to the weight of his gut.
"What did you do to me!?" Dan yelled.
"Oh you did this to yourself buddy, y'know how easy it was to find you." The man responded, sounding almost exactly like you used to.
"You made me fat." Dan's voice breaks.
"Oh I did so much more than that, check the camera in your phone old man." The man smiled, as if he was containing his excitement.
Dan dreadfully pulled out his phone and opened the camera app.
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Dan shed a tear as he saw the fat old man staring back at him through his phone's camera. His gut was bursting out of his jacket and his hair was nearly as thin as it was before his initial transformation.
"And if you don't mind I'll be taking that." The man grabbed the letter jacket off of Dan and put it on himself.
The man confidently strutted towards the stage, ready to give his speech as Prom King, but Dan wasn't ready to give up that easily. His footsteps were heavy as he followed the man onstage and grabbed his arm.
"You're not gonna take this away from me!" Dan yelled.
This was followed by a moment of silence as the crowd went awkwardly quiet. Everyone's eyes were once again on Dan, but it didn't feel like before.
"Ooohhh, that was embarrassing old man." The old man whispered to Dan before approaching the mic. "I'm sorry everybody, my dad is just a bit jealous that I'm in my glory days and he's not." The man says to the entire venue, then turns to you once again. "Isn't that right, dad? " He said as he pressed his finger into Dan's chest.
Dan froze once again. This time, memories flooded into his brain. Memories of him growing old, never reaching the happiness and popularity he had in high school. He even had a son, and named him Dan jr. after himself of course. Though his son would grow to top him in all of his achievements, including becoming prom King back when he was in high school. Dan Sr. finally decided to swallow his pride and let his son have the spotlight. He slowly waddled off to the side and watched as his son gave his speech as Prom King.
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