#so hard to live in and feel the moment when your mind is locked
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HOME IS WHERE...?
The Underworld-- where the past is always close behind. Too close for Odysseus’ comfort. Here, he’s haunted by the memory of the hundreds of men who died under his command. One in particular he doesn’t dare wish to face again. Despite this, he perks up when his ears recognize a familiar tune.
"This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms..."
"Polites…?" He looks around for a moment, trying to find the source of the voice. Soon, his eyes lock in on a blurred figure in the distance. He can’t see any of the figure’s facial features, but he’d recognize that headband flowing in the wind anywhere.
"Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart..."
"Polites, I'm here!" Odysseus makes his way toward the melodic voice, but finds that no matter the distance he treads, the figure appears no closer than before.
"No matter the place--"
"Can't you hear me? It's me, Odysseus!" His stride quickens, desperate to reach his lost friend, but every step he takes is futile.
"--we can light up the world, here's how to start..."
"Polites, please answer me!" He can’t tell if his misty eyes are from the fog blocking his line of sight, or from a desperation deep within. It seems that no matter how much he tries to disperse the haze before him, his vision remains clouded.
"Greet the world with open arms, greet the world with open arms..." The voice fades away, and Odysseus finds himself standing all alone.
"Polites..."
A gust of wind blows past, filling the silence around him. For a while, he can’t bring himself to move, frozen in place by the reality of his isolation.
"... Captain?" That familiar voice eventually speaks once more, from behind Odysseus, putting an end to his solitude. There’s a softness in that voice that he recognizes instantly. He turns around, surprised to find himself now face to face with his old friend. Here, even amidst all the fog, he can see every detail so clearly now.
"Polites?"
"Captain, is that really you?"
"Yes...! Yes, it's me! I'm right here!" Odysseus reaches out his arms to grab hold of Polites' shoulders, but all he manages to grasp within his fingers are the disintegrating vapors of a fading spirit. His short-lived smile quickly descends into a solemn frown, disappointment etched all over his face.
"I... I can't see you..." Polites' eyes wander, searching for the sight of his dear friend, but all that fills his vision is abyssal nothingness.
"What do you mean?"
"It's all just darkness here. There's no light anywhere. No... nothing." A silence falls among the pair for a moment. "Captain... I'm scared."
"I know... Death is terrifying."
"Death? So... you mean..." The words of explanation are on the tip of Odysseus' tongue, but his tightly pursed lips forbid them from escaping. "Right, of course," Polites continues with a feigned smile, understanding the truth of his situation without hearing another word. "Your silence speaks volumes, my friend. How did it happen?"
"The Cyclops." Odysseus swallows hard as flashes of splattered blood and panicked screams come back to mind. "It was quick. You didn't feel any pain," he lies. The memory of Polites reaching out for Odysseus as he lies in a pool of his own blood nearly makes him expel the contents of his stomach.
“So then… if you’re here…” Polites’ mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario, but Odysseus is quick to put him at ease.
“No, no, I’m not…” Dead? “There’s no need to worry, my friend,” he tells him, offering his most sincere smile, though it’s tinged with sadness, knowing Polites will never be able to see it.
“Thank the Gods for that,” Polites smiles back anyway. “You still have to make it home, after all.”
“Home…” Odysseus’ voice trails off. “Home without you isn’t really home anymore, is it?” Though Odysseus’ remark is solemn, Polites still smiles brightly.
“My friend… You’ve lost so much…” Odysseus can almost feel a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But you have to keep going until you make it home. We're all rooting for you." Before Odysseus can respond, the visage of Polites begins to dim. "Wait... Polites, please, don't go!" Odysseus reaches for his friend, but his efforts are in vain. "I'm not going anywhere." Polites places a hand over Odysseus' chest and smiles. "I'm always going to be right here." Before long, the spirit of Polites vanishes for good, leaving Odysseus alone once more.
#epic the musical#epic#epic the music fanfiction#epic the musical fanfic#epic odysseus#epic polites#odypoli#odysseus#polites#fanfiction
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#isn’t it sad how ill look back on these years wishing i lived more#life already feels like it’s slipped away from me#feels like a void#so hard to live in and feel the moment when your mind is locked#and you just can’t keep up with the world around you when you’re in pain#i want to experience everything life has to offer#but feel like im living a personal hell#idk how to move forward and live in the present#keep thinking abt my own absence#feel like im stuck between escaping my reality and escaping my death#journal
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Toji can't ignore the sounds of your moans and whimpers through the wall. He's sitting on the couch, in the living room, unable to do anything about it, because you're still mad at him, and he's frustrated as hell, because he's so painfully hard, that he can see his dick twitching against the front of his sweats. He refuses to take care of it himself when he knows you're only a room away. To his convenience, you're already in the mood—clearly—but to his inconvenience, you're punishing him. You're scattering his name into your moans to throw salt in the wound, to really make it unbearable, and truthfully, it's getting to him.
Toji reached his limit when he heard you let out a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of those cries you let out when you cum hard. He strides over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your naked lower body, and your tank top scrunched up over your chest. His breath hitches, the throbbing in his pants intensifying as he rakes his eyes over your frame and absorbs the entire sight of you.
"You're really gonna get yourself off to the thought of me, when i'm right outside?" His incredulous tone doesn't do a good job of hiding the desperation that led him to barge into the room where you're splayed out so indecently.
"Mhm..." you hum, blissfully. You release a heavy, satisfied sigh. "That's exactly what I just did, 'cause you're on a time out," you say, tugging your shirt back down and pulling up your underwear, before sitting up to search for your shorts. "Don't worry. I finished. I'm done torturing you."
He can't let it be over. This normally wouldn't be enough to satisfy you. From what he heard, it seems like you only came once.
"Baby, no," he almost whines. He's outwardly desperate for you, having gone way too long without being allowed to touch you, intimately. "Let me. Please," he says, climbing onto the bed. His hands make contact with the skin of your bare legs and glide over the length of your shins, continuing their way up to part your thighs to make room for him to wedge himself between them.
"I did what you asked of me. Said I was sorry and repeated after you to call myself dumb." It was such a silly moment that made the storm in your mind subside for a minute or two.
Toji resists the urge to smile when he sees you suppressing the curl of your own lips. His hands go to your waist, not stopping there. The warmth of his palms travels up your edges, meeting the sides of your breasts and briefly palming the tops of them, in order to get to your shoulders. He grips your shoulders, using them as leverage to guide you back down to the bed. Focus is embedded into his features as he takes the thin material of your shirt between his rough fingertips and peels it off your skin until he reveals the gorgeous view of one of his favorite parts of your body.
Like a domestic cat, he lays his body on you, and plants his face between your breasts. It doesn't take long for him to begin appreciating your chest, pressing multiple slow kisses to your skin. He's basking in the softness you withheld from him.
"What else do you want from me, doll?"
You let out a small, quiet sigh, through your nose. You feel a little irritated with yourself for not even putting up a fight against his affection. You always say you're not going to let him touch you for a certain amount of time, as punishment for the dumb things he does, and yet somehow it always ends up this way—him nuzzling into your chest.
"I want you to stop being a jealous maniac," you say, the words coming out softer than you intended them to, as you welcome defeat and run your fingers through his soft, dark locks.
"Mm-mm, anything but that," he responds, muffled by your warm skin. His hands caress your body, rubbing your waist and massaging your hips in a manner that would induce relaxation under different circumstances. You can't let yourself fall into that comfort until you've talked things out.
"Toji, you flashed your gun at someone who mistook me for somebody else." You attempt to keep yourself composed in order to communicate the issue efficiently. There's no need to raise your voice when you have him right there, lying comfortably on your chest.
"Mhm, I did that," Toji confirms, before planting a soft kiss on the inner side of your right breast. "The dickwad must have been real blind if he had to get so close." He feels your chest rise with a deep inhale, then hears you let out the breath. With that, he knows you're still upset and he has to further elaborate on his actions. "He had his filthy paws on you and everything. I did what I thought was best to get him to fuck off."
You hum in mere acknowledgment. "Uh-huh, that's definitely the way to go about it. God forbid you verbalize your discomfort before threatening to use a bullet."
You feel a warm puff of air on your chest, similar to the sigh you let out, but less audible, and then a kiss directly between your breasts.
"I was right next to you, ma. He was looking at you in a way that he shouldn't have been. He looked at you the same way that I look at you. You don't need that from anyone else. And that stupid ass thing he said about supposedly feeling like he's seen you somewhere? He clearly said it to get a good look at you from up close."
"You really are insane, aren't you?" You ask, rhetorically, stilling the hand that's on the back of his head.
"Doll, I hate the idea of pulling the gun out in front of you. I don't ever wanna have to use it and scare you in the process, but he was actively trying to steal you from me. If he were just ogling you from afar, I might've acted differently, but he touched you. He fucking touched you. Who does shit like that?"
Toji can feel his blood boiling again, so he refocuses on your chest. He doesn't want to think about what happened anymore, when he's in his happy place, where he knows he belongs.
"Alright, Toji. Take a deep breath." You softened your voice to simmer down his emotions. You resumed the movement of your fingers carding through his hair, aiding him in calming down more.
He does as you say and releases a heavy breath. It's riddled with his discontented feelings. "You're supposed to be mine," he mumbles, before finally latching his lips around your nipple.
Toji needs reassurance, too. Him being an attractive, enormous, hulking man, has nothing to do with how secure he feels around you, his lover. It's easy to think that because he manages to turn heads wherever he goes, that he'll be fine when you get those same reactions, but the way you have him now, is proof that insecurity can reach even him. He needs to know that he's not going to lose you so easily, especially to someone as ridiculous as the man who managed to unsettle him.
You look down at him as he takes all the comfort he needs from your chest. "I'm all yours, Toji. You're the only one who will ever get a pass for that kind of psychotic behavior."
He hums, releasing your breast, before resting the side of his face down on your chest. "You make it sound like i'm toxic towards you."
Your chest jumps as you laugh, a gesture that makes Toji lift his gaze to look at you. Your expression managed to make him lighten up a little more.
"You're crazy, but I love you, regardless."
He groans, the sound cushioned by your soft skin. You're the one thing that holds up his sanity, yet somehow you're also the one who tests it by saying things like that to him.
"Let me have you," he says, his kisses beginning to trail up, towards your neck. "Please, let me have you, mama."
"Are you gonna keep threatening people when you get jealous?" You ask, your lips curling as be continues to kiss your delicate skin.
"Mhm," he confirms. "Like I said and you said," he speaks, into your neck, "you're mine. If people don't know it, i'll make sure they get it on the first go. There's no need to make mistakes."
You laugh. "Your possessiveness is intense."
"You're not a joke, to me," he says, looking at you. His expression is as serious as what he just said.
You grab the rolled up fabric of your shirt, with the intention of covering yourself. The ambience has gone more serious and it feels wrong to be so exposed in the moment.
"Don't cover yourself, yet. I want you, baby. Please." His knuckles graze your cheek, affectionately. Despite your chest being out on full display, his attention is centered on your face. He's reading your expression. You were laughing a few seconds ago and now you're as still as him.
"Be nice to me. I don't want you to be rough, this time." It's back to back gentleness with the way your voice reaches him and your smile manages to soothe the remaining sting he's feeling. It's like you're showing him the way you want him to handle you. "I'm yours, Toji. No amount of speed or aggression from your body against mine, will have an impact on the fact. Okay?"
He keeps his eyes on you for a couple more seconds, like he's letting your words sink in and fully envelop him. He repositions his hand, so that he's cupping your cheek, and a couple slow strokes of his thumb against your skin gave him the courage to lean down and kiss you. The second his lips meet yours, he wants more. Infinitely more. He's chasing kiss after kiss from you, utterly drunk on the feeling of your hands pulling him closer by his shirt. He'll consume you, at this point.
"Hm?" You hum, still awaiting his response.
"Got it, baby," he says, before connecting his lips to yours once more. He peppers the rest of your face with kisses, luring giggles from you at the barrage of affection.
This isn't the first time Toji has been revoked of his 'you privileges', and gotten them back, instantly. This has occurred many times in the years that you've been together. Going into a relationship with him, you never thought he'd be the jealous type, much less the type who would threaten someone's life over getting overly cozy with you. The first time he pulled something similar to this, it was a little frightening. You knew he kept a gun on him sometimes, but you figured it was strictly for life or death situations.
You were wrong.
Some weirdo was getting too comfortable with you, hand wrapped around your wrist and all. You clearly remember Toji being visibly bothered, because someone thought they could just swoop in and steal your focus from him. He watched for a minute or two as the man took in your beauty and complimented you on every aspect of your appearance. He really did his best to get you to follow him to his table, and though Toji thought the whole thing was a pathetic attempt, he couldn't help the feelings that began to bubble up as the man squeezed your arm. Toji did a dog whistle to grab the man's attention, and when he looked, he lifted his shirt, just enough to show the grip of his gun. Your stomach twisted and you felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The stranger just stood there for a second, looking at Toji, condescendingly, as if to insinuate that he knew he was bluffing, and when Toji reached for and grabbed ahold of the gun's handle, that same cocky man paled. He didn't even have to pull out the whole gun—the man had walked away by the time he had the grip in his hand— but you remained worried that he would notify someone about what happened, so you and Toji left.
To this day, Toji still scares people that way when he notices them invading your space in a manner that doesn't sit right with him. You're not scared anymore, when he does it, but the frustration of having to ditch wherever you are, in fear of being ratted out by whoever Toji threatened? It's still there, and you feel it every time. You know he does it out of love for you, but sometimes you wish he would take a second to talk to you, before he even thinks of hurting someone.
Toji has kissed your entire torso, by now. Your chest wasn't exempt from his attention, despite the amount of time he already spent on it. If anything, he refined the love he gave it with purposeful movement and significance towards every spot his lips brushed.
He nears your lower abdomen, wet kisses placed beneath your navel, going lower and lower until you can feel his breath being filtered through the front of your underwear. His hands go beneath the elastic band, cupping your hips without restriction as he kisses your clothed pelvis.
Your breathing picks up the slightest bit when his lips meet your slit through the thin layer. His tongue comes out and he does an experimental swipe of it against the fabric. You feel the space immediately heat up, from your arousal and from the warm wetness of his tongue, itself.
"Stay still for me, mama," he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs after spotting the quiver in them. "You nervous?" He asks, with a small curl of his lips.
"Of course, I am." You look into his eyes as you confirm it. You love him so dearly, that even after the years you've spent together, you still feel lightning coursing through you when he has you this way. This electric feeling doesn't prevent you from letting yourself enjoy what he gives you, nor does it hinder you from touching him and making him feel good. You don't become more hesitant towards him, because by now, you're well aware that your love for him coexists with butterflies. They reside in you, and are able to be lured out by him at any instant, despite your knowledge of the fact that he would gladly be someone's cause of death if they don't keep themselves in check around you.
"Love you," he says, kneading your hips as he leans in to press a few more warm kisses to your thinly veiled cunt. His eyes dart up to your face when you don't respond—he's a little lost on why you didn't say it back— until he sees how despite the way you just admitted to your nerves, he has you entirely at ease. You have a hand flat on the sheets, occasionally moving against the material beneath it, while your other hand rests on your stomach. Your chest is steady and your attention is on the ceiling, your expression serene—ethereally so.
His hands run down your hips, warm palms squeeze and feel up your thighs, gaining your eyes on him again. "You're not gonna say it back?" He asks, his voice deep enough to make the ache between your legs just that much more intense.
"You already know I do," you say, contrasting his demeanor with a giggle. He looks like a needy puppy with that glint that presents itself in his eyes.
"Mhm, doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it, again, or do you not love me, right now?"
You're caught by surprise with that one, a small, almost inaudible gasp, leaving you at the words. "I love you all the time, Toji. I love you now and I loved you earlier when I was pissed. It's not going away."
He's a little more impatient for you, now. His movement doesn't speed up, but his heartbeat is in his ears, and there's a tremble in his hands as he reaches for the elastic of your underwear. He pulls the garment down, wanting to smell and taste you more clearly. His cock jumps at the sight revealed. You're still so wet. He lets out a shuddered breath, now that your lower half is completely bared for him. His mouth comes closer and closer and his tongue comes out, making contact with your throbbing cunt for the first time.
"Toji." The sound is soft—unexaggerated—as his tongue laps at your warmth, tasting the sweet wetness that coats it. He could stay like this for hours, worshipping your entire body, while you touch him and gift him the prettiest sounds ever. He can't get enough of you, which is why when it looks like you're going to close your legs, he pins them down, entirely. His hands splay over your thighs and he keeps them there, because he isn't going to fight to give you the pleasure you deserve. He'll love on you until your body is begging him to stop, because he knows that your mouth can be misleading, at times.
He's taking it slow, just like you wanted him to. The most stimulation comes from him lightly sucking on your clit for brief moments at a time, just to hear your moans get the slightest bit louder. Every time he releases your sensitive pearl, he goes back to running his tongue through your drooling slit, the tip of the muscle nudging your clit, causing it to throb with need. Each graze of the wet warmth, makes you wonder if you should ask him to go faster, though you were the one who asked for this gentleness. You don't want to seem indecisive or come off as doubtful that he can make you cum this way. You know he can, but god, you want so much more. You feel like you're the one who's going insane with every flick of his tongue.
"That good, mama? Or do you want it slower?" He gives you a teasing smirk. Toji knows how you are. You say you want him to be soft and gentle with you, but when the time comes, you want more than what's given to you. You delve into greediness as seconds turn to minutes. You both have nowhere to be. Time is yours, and Toji intends to take advantage of that. He's going to fulfill your needs the way you want him to, but that doesn't mean he loses awareness of your little ticks. He feels the small twitches of your legs beneath his hands every time you feel his nose bump into your clit just before it gets hit by his tongue. He sees the way your hips sink into the mattress and your body quivers when they rise, again.
"G-Good. Don't go any slower," you respond, holding your voice as steady as possible.
"Mm... Faster?" He asks, his tone so calm yet sultry, that you can't tell if he's patronizing you. He doesn't miss the way light flashes, briefly, through your features. In an instant, you regain your composure. A simple hum is offered in response—a wordless brush off of his suggestion. The sound makes Toji smirk. How stubborn of you.
"I won't hold it against you," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease that joins your pelvis and your thigh, leaving an echoing feeling of need in your core. "Just say the word, ma." He presses more kisses to your skin, as if he's trying to persuade you to let him devour you.
"Mm-mm, this is good."
It's not what he's trying to get out of you, but he can keep going until you're hanging on by a measly thread.
He continues on with that same pace—licking, suckling, prodding—so gently, luring the cutest little mewls from you. It took a little longer, but eventually, your body started trembling with impending release.
"I'm gonna- Toji," you cry, tightening your fists around the sheets as he slowly circles his tongue over your clit, focusing on it entirely. Your moans grow needier and needier as you near the edge through such delicateness. The anticipation is killing him. He wants you to be louder. You wouldn't hate him for bringing you more pleasure, would you? It's a risk he's willing to take.
Without another doubt, he's messily making out with your cunt, causing more of your sweet nectar to drool out at a more rapid pace. Your breath hitches, a sharper rendition of his name cried out. Your hand reaches downward and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it as he continues to ravage you. Your moans sound absolutely filthy. He doesn't detach his mouth from you for a single second. His hands finally release their pin on your thighs, allowing you to fully suffocate him when they shut around his head. His arms hook around your thighs, a harsh grip on them to keep you from scooting away from his relentless mouth when you cum. It's another strong, orgasm, that has you arching your back off the mattress and squirming as he continues devouring you through the intense sensation. Your hips roll in an attempt to get more of his mouth on you. Only when you start whimpering and attempting to twist out of his hold, does he ease up. He goes back to the original pace, soft kitten licks through your slit to lap up every drop of your sweetness, earning small twitches from your body, due to the sensitivity you feel.
You release the hold you have on his hair and relax your legs, unbending them and letting them fall comfortably on the bed. He finishes you off with a few kisses, thin strings of his saliva and your cum sticking to his lips, before snapping every time he loses contact with your cunt. His warm palms caress your thighs—a comforting gesture, as your sounds come to a halt and all that is heard is your breathing.
"You're so impatient," you playfully chide, a breathy laugh following.
"You wanted more," he responds, one more kiss placed on you before he licks his lips clean. "I'm really good at reading you."
"Yeah? You think so?" You ask, a teasing grin on your face.
"I know so," he responds. "Wouldn't it just be the worst if we've been together this long, and I didn't know almost everything about you, by now?" He repositions himself, now sitting on his knees to start ridding himself of his own clothes.
You manage a hum and a nod as you watch Toji pull off his shirt.
"Good thing that's not the case, and I do know basically everything about you. Down to the way your body reacts to me— the signals you create that let me know you're gonna cum all over my tongue, when your pretty mouth can't form words."
"So vulgar," you say, through flustered giggles.
"You can take it, mama," he teases, a smirk growing on his lips as you watch him pull off his sweats. His eyes stay on yours, as he kicks them off, letting them slide off the bed and onto the floor, before crawling back between your legs. You can feel his clothed hard-on pressing against your core as he takes your lips in his again. He's addicted to the feeling of your warm body against his.
His hands come down to cup your waist, his fingers molding into the soft flesh with every squeeze they offer. He pauses the make out, small breaths leaving him.
"Baby," he says, his voice almost a whisper, his lustfully darkened eyes narrowed on your starry ones. "I'm gonna kill the next person who hits on you in front of me." He goes back in for a few more quick kisses. "I'm not joking. I can't keep sparing them."
"Shh... All yours, Toji," you murmur, softly, pulling him back in to continue the flow of kisses. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, the other settles on his shoulder. You hear him groaning quietly into the kisses as he continues grinding his hips into yours.
"Fuck, doll," he groans, pausing his lips on yours once again. "I need you."
You laugh, a warm sound that just adds on to his desire to have you. "So, take me, baby. I'm ready for you."
He gives you one more peck, the slyest smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lean forward for another one, only to be met with nothing.
"Ass," you grumble, playfully shoving his chest.
He chuckles, a deep rumble of a sound as he sits back to remove his boxers. He's not even ashamed of the mess of precum that accumulated in them. If anything, he's surprised he was able to hold in his load this entire time. Pleasantly surprised, because every drop will go to you, as always.
One minute you're sitting up to fully remove your shirt, pulling it up over your head, the next, in what seems like a flash, you're pushed back onto the bed, hands pinned above your head.
You giggle, looking up at him with a lingering smile. "Gentle."
"Mhm," he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck. "So gentle." Two misleading words that don't prepare you for the sensation of his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.
Your bubbly laughter homes into his ears when his tongue runs over the indentations, luring a huff of a laugh from him.
You feel his cock run through your slick folds, his hips moving back and forth, slowly. Quiet breaths fill the silence that takes over the intimate moment. Toji runs his length through your slit one more time, before finally pushing his tip in. You gasp, feeling his cock begin to drive into you.
"F-Fuck, baby, let me touch you."
"In a minute." He sounds so calm and collected, but you can feel the grip he has on your wrists tighten and the bluntness of his nails pressing into your skin.
"No. Please."
"In a minute," he repeats.
"Pretty please?"
"You're so conflicting, mama. Love that you're begging, but at the same time, you're not listening." His hips draw back and thrust right back into you, his cock filling you up entirely, again.
"Oh fuck. Okay. Please, Toji," you whine.
Toji hums dismissively and picks up a rhythm that manages to get you to stop thinking about your pinned wrists. He lures soft, little moans out of you, listening closely as he plants warm, wet kisses on the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw.
"Just let me be good to you, baby. Alright?"
You hum, nodding your head.
"Yes?"
"Please, yes."
His thrusts become even more precise as he focuses on bringing pleasure to both of you, deep groans and grunts blending together with your higher pitched moans. A few minutes pass and you feel the pressure on your arms ease up, your hands free to roam without restriction. The first thing you do is cup his jaw and bring him in for breathy kisses. You keep your hands on his face and he lets you turn his head in every which way to cover him with kisses. Your affection is intoxicating, and he can't get enough of it. He lets out a breathy laugh when you practically have a make out session with the scar on his lips, your melodic sounds of pleasure released against the strike as he continues to fuck into you. The last kiss you leave on the cicatrix is a big one. One that makes the obnoxious kissy sound and everything. He swipes his tongue over his scar, as if he's trying to catch remnants of the sugar you coated it with.
"Love you," you say, eyes darting over his handsome features and the lovestruck expression they create. You feel the way his hips stutter against you, his abs tensing with restraint before he recomposes himself. You glide your hands up and down his arms and repeat yourself for him. "Love you so much, Toji. I'm yours."
"Fuck— I fucking love you. You're all mine. My baby." He mutters more inaudible curses under his breath, his grip on your waist getting harsher and his thrusts growing quicker, with every sweet confirmation you offer. You whimper, nails digging into his biceps as you withstand the feeling of his cock relentlessly brushing that spot within you that makes you melt beneath him.
"Oh fuck, i'm close." He groans, feeling the way your walls spasm around him at the words. "Yeahhh, you want it, huh, baby? Want my cum?"
A shaky breath leaves you, your face observed up close and personal by Toji, through lust-brimmed, enamored, obsessed eyes. You squirm under all of him— his zoned in attention on you, his touch, his hot, tacky skin, his cock buried inside you—dragging in and out of your soft walls, in a manner that has your toes curling to the brink of actual pain. His fingers find your clit and rub it in rapid circular motions, causing your body to jolt at the sudden intensity of the enhanced pleasure.
You look up at him with your sparkling eyes. "Please... P-Please, Toji? I want it. Want you," you utter, as he brings you closer to your own orgasm.
"Fuck, okay. Okay, baby, gonna give it all to you." His hips pick up their pace a little more and he buries his face into your neck. You can hear the string of grunts and shuddered breaths that pair with his unraveling, right beneath your ear. Deep moans and pants flow past his lips, and his nails begin to leave crescent shapes on your sides. You feel his hot breath on your neck, the open mouthed puffs of air accompanied by the lewd sounds of him filling you with his warm, creamy cum. As he continues rutting into you, riding out every second of his orgasm and then some to get every last drop of his cum into you, he bites your delicate skin, the placement only a few centimeters above where he bit you the first time. He stays there for a few seconds, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, before he loosens his bite, the gesture transitioning to sloppy kisses over the wet, saliva-coated indentations.
"Cum, doll," Toji mutters, feeling the way your cunt flutters around him when his fingers relocate your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your head sinks back into the pillow, allowing him to drag his kisses up the column of your neck, to feel the vibration of your sounds beneath his lips. Your nails go to his shoulders, dragging across the toned area of muscles, surely leaving behind some scratches. You cry out in utter bliss, your force of an orgasm echoing through your entire being. "There you go, mama," Toji purrs, in response to your body releasing the tension that came with the intensity of your pleasure. You tremble, your small, rapid whimpers and breaths evolving into full blown, unholy moans. "So, so pretty," he drawls out, engraving yet another one of your euphoric expressions into his memory. His fingers leave your clit, and his hips slow down to the point of merely grinding into you, to lure those final little whines out, before stilling entirely.
You shut your eyes to focus on calming your heaving chest for a few seconds, and when you open them again, you have the prettiest pair of green eyes staring down at you. You give Toji a lazy smile and a laugh, a sight that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. His heart races as he absorbs the visuals of your post-orgasm haze. Your luminous eyes devour him, that little satisfied smirk on your face is everything— god, he loves that you laugh even more at the way he can't stop staring at you.
Just like that, Toji is reminded of what got this sight revoked from him in the first place. He still doesn't feel like he's in the wrong for wanting to murder anyone who has far from just friendly intentions with you, but as you caress his face and hold his gaze with that tender look in your eyes, his desire to kill those who openly lust after you, becomes entirely justified in his mind. He's lost all reason to hold back. There's no longer any part of him that would feel remorse or guilt, even if you can't look him in the eyes for days after the matter. He'll grovel as much as he has to, to get you to give him your eyes, again. You'll just have to agree to disagree on this, because yes, you come home to him, you sleep in the same bed as him, you kiss and hold him, the body concealed by your clothes is a secret between you and him, you get tangled up in sheets with him and the lot of it— but he can't risk losing you to someone who's possibly better than him and searching for all the exact things you have to offer. You're for him, as he is for you.
Toji doesn't care how clingy he appears when you finish getting cleaned up and ready for bed. You carelessly toss yourself onto the mattress and pull the blanket over your body while you wait for Toji, who took the steps and walked around the bed to make it to his side. He finds your body beneath the covers and immediately rolls on top of you, adhering himself to you, again. His head rests on your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your body.
You're already prepared to give him the intimate aftercare that comes with days like this. You don't mind that he's heavy and that he's crushing you or that he's taking up all your space, again, after having been so close to you a little while ago. You'll do this is many times as you need to for him to understand that he's wanted and loved by you.
You press a kiss to the top of his head, and murmur a quiet 'love you'. Your fingers run through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching the back of his head, while your other hand rubs his back. You feel the extra warm skin of his shoulders, where you paid no mind to the pressure your nails applied on it, earlier.
"Does that hurt?" You ask, lightly tracing a couple of the mildly inflamed lines. He hums in denial, but you let up, anyway, and continue to just rub his back.
He groans quietly at your soothing touch, nuzzling further into you. "I'm yours, too, ma. All yours," he mumbles. "I don't want anyone else and I don't wanna see you with anyone else."
You smile softly at his admission. "You're more than enough for me, Toji. There's no one I want more than you— no, there's no one I want other than you," you correct. "You know how much I love you?"
"Mm... How much?" He asks, waiting for you to give him a number or even just an elongated 'so much', but instead, you surprise him with:
"I wouldn't be able to tell you."
He chuckles. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. If you want something accurate, I'll never shut up."
"Good thing I like when you talk my ear off. You wanna give me an inaccurate idea of how much?"
You hum like you're in thought, a giggle following when he pinches your waist, encouraging you to tell him. "I love you a lot, Toji. So much more than I will ever be able to say or show. We would have to conjoin our minds for you to understand exactly how much I love you, but even then, once our minds separate, your estimate will be entirely off again."
He lifts his head off your chest, and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The moonlight seeping through the spaces between the curtains is the only source of light that allows him to get a mediocre view of you. "That's inaccurate?" He asks, looking at you with clear disbelief when his eyes finally adjust. You nod, smiling through the warmth that spread on your cheeks. "Now, I wanna know how much you love me, with complete accuracy. I have all the time in the world to listen to you, baby. Just keep talking to me." He presses a kiss to your cheek before lying back down on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, again.
You hugged him as tight as you could for a few seconds. The sound of you straining yourself made him laugh, because not only did he not let out a single groan, but you tired yourself out even more. You rested your arms on his back and just shut your eyes. It was the warmth and weight of his body on you, the feeling of his arms keeping you firmly against him, the security, that managed to lull you to sleep. Toji dozing off was simpler than that, because all he needs to be able to sleep soundly, is for you to be around.
#toji#toji fushiguro#toji smut#toji fluff#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#fushiguro toji#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk smut
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SWEAR IT’S JUST RIGHT FOR YOU. | NANAMI. K
જ⁀➴ synopsis: when you and nanami are equally as obsessed with each other, it creates this perfect balance. you cook for him, and he treats your pussy like it’s a blessing.
જ⁀➴word count: 3,3k
જ⁀➴ c.w: pure filth with a bit of fluff, soft dom! nanami, he turns a bit rough towards the end, rough facefucking, cunnilingus + fingering, dirty talk + praise, riding, multiple orgasms + squirting.
When Nanami praises you, it’s soft, gentle and endearing. His rough palm gently collides with the soft skin of your jaw and his thumb traces your cheek. He is reminding you of how much you mean to him, how he would burn the entire world if it meant keeping you safe and protected. You are his fairy, his delicate girl whom he could never imagine even raising his voice at. When he scolds you, his voice is stern and filled with worry despite the displeased tone, his hand grabs at your shoulder not to hurt you, and you want to caress your thumb over his forehead and get him to stop furrowing his eyebrows so deeply.
“You’ll get wrinkles, Ken.” Your voice pulls him out of his displeased state for a moment, and Kento hears birds chirping outside of the window and the sunbeam caresses your skin—It hits your beautiful eyes and he takes in every detail; your eyebrows, the slight discoloration the bottom of your jaw, the mole that seems to bring out the beauty in you even more, your eyelashes that aren’t curled but naturally have a pretty shape to them and he heaves out a sigh. He is consumed by love wherever you are near.
Heaven knows how much the man craved domesticity. He found comfort in it—a routine, a promise that when he comes home, he gets to take off his brown shoes at the front door, put his keys in the small bowl that has a mirror hanging right above it. He would then look at his reflection in the mirror and look away immediately when he notices the sweat stains as he removes his jacket. He hears your footsteps as you rush out of the kitchen with a pretty apron around your waist. You made bread, and Nanami isn’t sure whether to be infatuated by the smell of it, or the smell of your hair that hits his nostrils as you wrap your arms around his waist.
He wouldn’t care that your hair is slightly damp, but he would breathe out how the tank top you were wearing was going to get you sick if you don’t watch out. And Kento cares a lot about your comfort, he respects you a lot, so when you hug his sweaty self, his hands would gently try to remove your arms from around him and protest that he was dirty.
“It’s all hard work, Ken. I like it.” To which he wouldn’t say much but give in and let you hold him. He understands that to an extent, having a natural smell like this was attractive, he’s always told you that he likes it when you come home complaining about sweating too much and all he says is that it makes you even more attractive. Your flushed cheeks, your hair sticking up in small antennas, your nose scrunching up at how disgusting it feels to have your shirt cling onto your skin—
“Can I join you in the shower?” Which always catches you off guard, but you accept of course and Nanami sets his book down, he removes his glass and folds them neatly on top of the book before following right behind you in the bathroom. You giggle nervously when you see him close the door and lock it before leaning against it, and you let out a small and timid ‘what?’ when he keeps eyeing with the same intense eyes.
“You are beautiful.” He never denies that he is looking at you—admiring you, but instead reminds you every time that nothing in the world can change his mind about his infatuation with you.
And somewhere in between that comforting thought of coming home to you, a show playing on TV in the living room, bread baking in the oven and the smell of a clean home—Nanami dreams of fucking you stupid on the couch. He wouldn’t remove your apron, he wouldn’t let you wash your hands off of the flour—he would simply drop his pants, push your shorts down and spread your legs only to find out that you weren’t wearing any panties.
He feels sick to his stomach at thought, sighs and rubs his forehead at the fact that he was imagining such dirty things to do with you. If it were a normal fantasy like coming home and fucking you on the bed, he wouldn’t feel that bad. But that was the thing about fantasies, they existed in our head without our control, and it was up to us to act out on them or not. Kento cherished you too much to scare you off with his oh-so-called sick and twisted fantasy of his.
He comes home after a long day at work, and it’s a few minutes past seven. The house isn’t quiet, there is a show playing in the background and that was the first thing that had Kento stop dead in his tracks. He chooses to brush it off and simply rids himself of his jacket and shoes, sets his keys on the bowl before the smell of bread hits his nostrils and his lips part in confusion.
Was he dreaming? Did he somehow astral project into another dimension where his fantasy was a reality? It only confuses him further when you come out of the kitchen wearing an apron—in this reality though, you’ve chosen to wear one of his shirts instead, and Nanami doesn’t know if it’s better or worse. He tries to hide it, the way he can feel his cock hardening in his pants as you approach him with his shirt, fuzzy socks and hands that had traces of flour on them.
“You’re home.” Is how you greet him, your cheek resting on his chest and melting against his body as you breathe in his scent, a constant reminder that you get to be greeted with this sight five times a week around the same time. You boyfriend’s hand travels up to the back of your head and his fingers comb through your hair as he hums a tired response.
“Did you miss me?” Obviously, is what you want to say. But instead, when you look up at him and notice his hooded eyes, you feel his other rest on the small of your back and your heart leaps in your chest. All of a sudden, you feel hot and you feel something poking at you and you’re just surprised.
It was normal for your boyfriend to have needs, you were used to the sexual frustration that comes with having such a stressful job—but normally, Kento would avoid initiating anything with you until he’s showered and made sure he was clean. For him to insinuate that he wanted you, and so loudly with those eyes—you could feel your panties getting ruined.
“Pretty girl,” he calls out for you again when he notices your silence and the hand resting on your waist holds your chin whilst the other firmly grabs your hair. “Did you miss me?” He asks again, stern and you nod. You missed him too much, you realize. Because the lack of conversation beside greeting him and telling him he’s home—all of it was intensifying the sexual tension. It was almost like your body was warning you that Kento wasn’t going to go easy on you this time and you felt jittery.
“I missed you, Kento. Did you miss me?” You say as your hands grab onto his blouse in fists. You bring him closer to you, and gasp when you feel his hand travel down to hold your neck. He isn’t trying to cut your air, but when you make eye contact with him and see that his face has darkened, you let out a small noise.
“Let me show you instead.”
On the couch, Nanami wastes no time to attach his lips to yours and kiss you breathless. He was such a good kisser, always so passionate, always making sure to tease the corner of your lips before biting nibbling here and there—and fuck, did he lose his mind every time you tried to suck on his tongue. He would just push you on your back and cage you between his strong arms.
Nanami feels like he is constantly losing his breath whenever you are near, but when you grab onto his forearms and moan, he goes feral. Suddenly, he is reminded of how much weaker you are compared to him—frail, delicate, soft and sensitive to his touch. He is lucky, he is blessed and he makes sure to spoil you and that pretty pussy.
His kisses trail all the way down from your neck to your collarbones, his takes a whiff of your perfume and hums.
“You smell so sweet,” he mumbles against your skin. Instead of removing your apron and shirt, he pushes them up to reveal the cute panties that you were wearing and his finger traces the wet patch that’s already formed.
“Kento,” you call out to your boyfriend breathless, desperate—as though you were on a deserted island and he was the water to quench your thirst. Your legs spread on instinct for the man to settle between them and you feel his hot breath right against your panties.
“But you smell even better here… Right here,” he says and he pushes your panties to the side to reveal the wet mess hiding behind the fabric. You prop yourself up a bit higher to be able to look at Nanami while he eats you out, and you blush when you notice that he’s already staring at you.
“Up.” He pats your ass and you lift up your hips to allow him to remove your panties for you, but instead of throwing them on the floor, you see him take a whiff of the fabric and sigh and your blush darkens.
“Can I keep these, my love?” He asks sweetly, voice so deep you felt like your pussy was embarrassing you with how wet it was and you mindlessly nod. “Is that so?” He knew you wouldn’t say no, but he still wanted to thank you for trusting him with his perverted intentions.
“You’re too good for me.” Is the last thing that you hear from him before he dives between your legs and fuck—he is too good. You know Nanami is good, you don’t doubt that he can make you cum as many times as he wants before reaching his own high, but something about him eating your pussy like a treat, enjoying every drop and sucking on your clit with the intention of making you lose your mind—that was too much.
You feel his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks before smothering his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue licks at your folds and you think that for a moment, maybe he is enjoying this more than you do. His hands grip your thighs to keep them in place, and when he notices that your legs are starting to shake and your hips are bucking up, he takes one look at you and his dick almost bursts.
Flushed chest, swollen lips and a fucked out face. If Nanami wasn’t already in love with your beauty, then he feels himself falling deeper for you. You fall apart on his tongue a couple of seconds later, he enjoys the way you gasp, moan and cry as he keeps his lips attached to your clit and you try to push his head away.
“Too much,” you gasp. “Kento!” you cry out when you feel his two fingers nudge at your folds and by this point, you are breathing too hard. You feel his thick finger prod at that one spongy spot almost immediately and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
He presses a hand to your stomach and praises are spilling from his lips like a chant, watching as your soul almost escaped your body with every thrust of his thick fingers perfectly against your spot.
“That’s right baby, you’re doing so good,” “this pussy takes me so well,” “you make me so proud, look at this pussy—fucking filthy,”
The mixture of praise and him losing his composure and cursing has you reaching your orgasm again faster than expected. But this time, you make a bit of a mess and you try to apologize for ruining the couch and his clothes but he is quick to shut you up with his lips.
“You’ve just squirted on me, and you want to apologize?” he mumbles against your cheek, fingers still buried inside you and you whine.
“I made a mess,” you try to reason with your beast of a boyfriend but he quickly retreats his fingers back and delivers a harsh smack to your pussy.
“It’s never been a problem when it’s our bed, has it?”
“Kento,” you call out softly when your boyfriend starts to kiss at your neck again. “Kento, fuck my mouth.” Nanami’s brain short circuits at this and the shock is evident on his features. He doesn’t have time to stop you or protest because you are quick to get off the couch and on your knees for him.
“You’ve been so good to me, keeping me satisfied and happy—I bet you want to fuck my mouth sometimes, don’t you?” Your hands are quickly unbuckling his belt. You don’t remove his pants completely, only enough to free his painfully hard cock from his boxers. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you watch as he throws his head back on the couch with each slow stroke.
“You don’t know what you are asking for,” is what he says as he tries to get you to back out of this, but you are determined to let him ruin your life. Him, the only man on this planet whom you would blindly trust with your life.
“I know what I am asking for.”
“I could hurt you,”
“I will tap your thigh if you do,” and then there’s a few moments of silence where Kento just stares deeply into your eyes. When you see him lean down towards you, your breath catches in your throat and your lips part in shock when his hand goes to the back of your head and the other one grips your jaw open.
“Open up.” And when you do, he rests the fat tip of his cock on your tongue. The pre-cum is a bit salty but you don’t say anything as you let Kento handle your mouth to his liking. He tells you to open up a bit more and breathe before he starts to thrust his dick in and out of your mouth at a slow pace.
You’re taking it well at first, but when you notice your boyfriend’s thighs shaking, indicating that he is holding back on you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.
Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and you push his dick down your throat, nose nuzzling against his pubes and he curses out loud.
“Fuck--!” You repeat the same motion over and over again, and by the third time, your boyfriend finally breaks and starts fucking your mouth like a starved man. Your knees burn, and so do your lungs—the couch is moving every time Kento brings your head back on his cock and you’ve braced yourself on his thighs for support.
“Sorry—fuck, I’m sorry baby,” he says between gritted teeth. However, when his eyes catch that you’re rubbing your swollen clit to the same rhythm of your head on his cock, something in him snaps.
He pushes you off of his cock, and any complaint you head is drowned out when he stands up and his cock stands proud. You look up at him from your spot on the floor and brace yourself on his thighs again when you feel him grab your face and push his cock inside your mouth.
“Filthy fucking girl,” he breathes out. “Can’t even let me be sweet to you—shit,” based on how difficult it is to even talk properly, you guess that he is close and so you sneak a hand between his legs and starts fondling with his balls—you squeeze them, and that’s when Nanami finally breaks and cums down your throat with a broken moan.
Even while trying to catch his breath, Nanami’s hands caress your face and neck as he takes a seat and pulls you closer to him. He then helps you get back up on your feet and pulls you on his lap to kiss you. He can taste himself on your tongue even after you’ve swallowed everything.
“Was I good?” You ask when he pulls away from your lips to kiss your cheek and down your neck once again, a pattern that he’s learned always turns you into putty.
“Perfect, my love. You are perfect for me.”
You are surprised at how fast he gets hard again, but you supposed it’s also because you were literally grinding your bare pussy against his dick. Your hands hold onto his shoulders for support as you try to slip his dick past your folds, but you let out a surprised noise when he easily lifts you up and aligns the tip of his cock with your pussy.
“Noticed that you like my arms a lot,” he says and you are obliged to stare at his forearms and good lord—the way they flex as they hold you above his cock, Nanami lets out an amused chuckle when he sees a string of arousal drip directly on top of his cock. “You do like them, huh?”
“Baby,” you whimper and Kento cannot find it in him to tease you any longer. He gently drops you down on his cock and he immediately gets to work. His hand rests on the small of your back and pushes you towards him to press your chest flush against his, his hands then grip your ass cheeks and he starts to slam you up and down on his cock with so much ease.
You sound like a mess. The combination of your boyfriend’s strong arms and the tip of his thick cock abusing your spot turns you into a blabbering mess on top of him.
“So good, so good—fuck, oh fuck,” sounded like music to his ears. Your whines your moans, your fucked out look and your eyes begging him to ruin you—Nanami was addicted to every part of you.
And it only takes a few more messy and sloppy thrusts from him and you cum around him with a loud cry.
“There you go,” he says breathlessly, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him. “Make a mess on me, baby,”
You shake like a leaf on top of him, hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life and lips pressed against his neck.
“Think you can take a bit more for me? I’m really close, darling,”
“Hurry up,” you say desperately and as promised, Kento thrusts a few more times before he is cumming inside you with a loud groan. He buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent that has now been mixed with his own and a hint of sweat. He relaxes in your hold, hand tracing the small of your back as a way to get you to come down from your orgasm and perhaps even apologize for being a bit rough with you earlier.
All of his worries are brushed off when you pull away from him to press a kiss to his forehead, his nose then down to lips.
“I love you, Ken. I love you too much,” you announce, a hint of sleepiness to your voice and a smile finds its way to his face.
“I love you too, darling. I love you too much.”
2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
#moon's works#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami kento#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen headcanon#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen headers#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento x reader smut#nanami x reader smut#nanami kento smut#nanami fluff#nanami imagine
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: A fight about a rumor, a confrontation, an admission, and suddenly your in the back of your car with no pants on.
Word Count: 4.7 k
Warnings:
“Get back ‘ere,” Lt. Simon Riley’s deep voice bellows angrily at the back of your quickly fleeing head as you storm clench fisted out of his private quarters before it disappears from his sight for a moment as you slam his door behind you so hard that it bounces off the frame and swings back open. He has no clue where you’re off to, but by the direction you’re headed, it looks like you’re going straight towards the parking lot.
God dammit, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. He curses himself for the way his emotions get the best of him sometimes and especially right now.
A mess of heavy breaths and barred teeth, you try to ignore the boot steps barreling towards you from behind. Nothing and no one is going to stop you from getting out of here and away from him, so you keep your face down, eyes staring at the long shadow of your body splaying out in front of you as the sun slips down further to the horizon. When you do finally look up your car is close and getting closer; good. You need to get off this fucking base to calm down before you explode in rage and do something stupid…like put your fist through a wall.
Again the lieutenant calls out your name to your fading figure with no luck and watches as you reach your vehicle without even acknowledging him anymore. It’s no use, you’re gonna take off no matter what he does, so finally he gives up with a loudly growled “fuckin’ hell” in agitation just as you reach out for the handle, storming back into the room with another loud bang as the door shuts and stays closed this time.
The noise makes the tension in your chest ease as you get in the driver’s seat and buckle up; at least he’s decided to actually leave you alone for now. Risking a quick glance back at the bare front of his closed door one more time you harshly turn the key in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot, screeching wheels and a flurry of gravel the only sign of your exit.
“God dammit,” you mutter to yourself under your breath, your knuckles gripping into the steering wheel until they are white as you make your way up to the security booth to get cleared to leave. “What the fuck was that? Christ, he was angry. Has he lost his goddamn mind? Why does he think I have to put up with his shit?”
The guards at the stand can see the fury in your eyes as you roll up to the gate and they are quick to guide you through, not wanting to be on the receiving end of whatever has got you in a mood. They share a look between them after you drive off as somehow it feels like they’ve dodged a bullet, but that relief is short lived as not even ten minutes later the next person to come up to their gate has the same sour expression, except this one is partially shielded inside a jet black motorcycle helmet and black balaclava.
Those eyes though…if looks could kill, the guards know they would have already dropped dead.
“Lieutenant,” one of them nods briskly as the motorcycle comes to a stop and the visor on the helmet is aggressively opened to reveal its occupant, “y-your good to go.”
Simon flips the visor back down with a single flick from his hand and revs the engine on his bike to peel away from the booth like a rocket towards the setting sun, headed in the same direction you had just gone minutes before. Faster and faster he pushes the engine; thank fuck there’s only one way you can go and if he makes sure to speed, he’s confident that he’ll catch up to you quick enough.
And then what? Simon’s anger is still blinding and he hasn’t thought that far ahead. All he knows is that he can’t just leave it like this and until you listen, he isn’t going to give up.
Your eyes are locked on the road, but it feels like you’re driving more by instinct rather than by sight as the only thing you can see right now is red. Simon’s harsh accusations swirl about in your head on repeat; not a good soundtrack to quiet your anger. This is not how you thought this day was going to end.
He had caught you headed back to your barracks and asked to speak. If you knew it was going to be an ambush for him to unload on you about something that was none of his business, you would have done everything to get out of letting him lead you inside his room. He didn’t even give you the chance to get a word in, to defend yourself, just kept spewing his heated thoughts about what he believed you were doing until finally you were able to get out.
If only he knew the truth… whatever, it didn’t matter now. You wouldn’t be kept on a short leash by someone who didn’t care.
You aren’t sure how many miles you’ve gone before you notice a motorcycle driving right behind you. They seem to be glued onto your bumper, keeping pace with you as you switch lanes, and when you make a sudden right and another directly after, they are still behind you and now you’re sure; you know that bike and its rider.
How the fuck did he get behind you so fast?
Simon flashes his lights at you before throwing on his blinker to indicate that he wants you to pull over, but you aren’t on base and don’t feel like following his orders right now. Let him chase after you for a little while more, that’s what he deserves. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize that this is a fucking stupid idea and he should really head back. Wishful thinking; you know him too well to even pretend that he’ll give up when he has his mind set on something.
A few more miles and again he hits his lights; he’s not going to stop following you until you give him what he wants. He knows he came at you too strong before, but he isn’t done with the conversation. He is compelled to put a stop to this before it gets any more out of hand, he has to. One more time, he flashes his lights.
“Really, Simon? I don’t want to fucking do this,” you curse him in a mumble with a scoff. Looking into your rearview mirror, you throw up your hands in defeat to silently indicate you’re ready to get this over with, wherever he decides to take this. It’s almost dark now anyway; you can get this done and then immediately head down to the bar to grab a much needed drink.
Up ahead is the abandoned parking lot of an old grocery store that looks like it has been closed for some time. Simon speeds up to get ahead of you to act as a guide and you throw your blinker on and turn in. He leads you towards the back of the store and away from the street and the traffic; more privacy for you to ‘talk’.
Great, more yelling, you think as you put the car in park before coming to a full stop. You scramble out in a huff and slam the door shut so hard that the windows vibrate.
“What?” you say between gritted teeth, leaning up against your car as you wait for him to get off his bike; you’re gonna make him come to you.
He removes his helmet, setting it carefully on the handlebars before stalking over to where you stand. “I said I wasn’t going to talk about this anymore,” you continue on in the same heated tone, “so why are you following me? What the fuck do you want now?”
“That’s really how you’re gonna talk ta me?” he questions, matching your energy. “I’m still your fuckin’ lieutenant.”
“That’s how I talk to assholes so stick their fucking noses where they don’t belong and then get mad when they don’t like what they find,” you return, crossing your arms across your chest to hide how labored your breathing is from your anger. You don’t want him to know just how much he’s gotten under your skin, even though you know your face is probably giving it all away anyway.
He told himself to stay calm, but there is no helping the emotional reaction he has that causes him to immediately match your energy and the fight picks right back up as if it never stopped. “Oh, is that right?” he growls. “I’m tha asshole? And what the fuck does that make ya, princess?”
“Don’t turn this back on me,” you press the matter. “I didn’t do anything; you’re the one that has the problem. I just don’t understand why you can’t let it go. Do you not have anything better to do than get in my personal life?”
Simon licks his lips behind his mask to keep him from losing the shred of composure he has left. “Better watch it, luv.”
You’re done with him, his attitude, and this conversation. “I will say it again, so maybe you’ll finally get it through your thick skull. What I do in my free time is my business. You have no right to confront me about anything.”
“I think I do,” he returns.
“Why? Because we hooked up a couple of times? That doesn’t give you the right to act like we’re a couple,” you say heatedly. “We agreed that it was we needed at the time to let off some steam, that the couple times it happened meant nothing. Now you’re acting like a fucking child just because I enjoy having company?”
Your blood is boiling now because he’s doing all this without having the facts. This supposed company you are entertaining isn’t even real, it is all a rumor started by a rejected private with nothing better to do, but you aren’t about to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know because it shouldn’t matter; you’re not together, never were, and he has no right to any knowledge about what you do behind closed doors.
This is the type of arrangement he wanted after all, no strings attached. His idea, not yours, so why the possessiveness all of a sudden? After all you had done to make sure your feelings on the matter never got out it only makes you more irate to feel like a caged animal; damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
Because what you really want is standing right in front of you and you can’t have it.
“Ya couldn’t even tell me ya were screwin’ around?” he says, stepping up in intimidation. “Ya don’t think that makes it sound like ya knew it was a problem?”
His entitlement feels like an attack and you won’t stand for it. “You can’t keep me on a leash like this when you don’t even have a claim,” you bark, getting in his face. “You might be my lieutenant, but what I’m doing or not doing outside of military business isn’t for you to worry about. And once again, we aren’t together. Stop acting jealous.”
He stares you down, menacing glare locked to your eyes as his chest heaves up and down exasperatedly. “Neva said I was fuckin’ jealous,” he starts, but you promptly cut him off.
“Yeah, right,” the accusation spills out like acid, finger poking into the middle of his chest. “And the fact you can’t fucking drop it is because you’re concerned, right? Bullshit. But you know what? I don’t care. I promise you, this is the last we will ever speak about it. You hear me? Just leave me the fuck alone.”
You shove past Simon as he stands there silently fuming to walk off somewhere along the building, clearly hoping that he will turn back for the base. His heart is beating out of his chest as he stares daggers into the back of your head…because you actually guessed right. He is jealous and it is eating away at him.
Blinded by his overwhelming emotions, he moves without thinking about the repercussions of his actions. Taking fast steps, he catches up to you as you walk along by the brick wall of the store and takes you by surprise. He reaches out with his large, strong hand and wraps tightly around the back of your neck to pull you backward to him, turn you around, and pin you against the brick by your throat.
Simon blocks your body with the bulk of his, trapping you so you can’t get away again. His grip is firm, but not painful and you look up into his masked face as if trying to read his eyes.
“What are you doing?” you ask, the residual anger pumping through your veins so it’s still in your voice.
There is a pause, more silence, before he speaks. “Handlin’ something,” he says with a growl.
“You clearly can’t handle anything, Simon,” you comment with an agitated chuckle.
“Shut it,” he demands in a harsh bark. “Ya think ya know every fuckin’ thing, don’t ya?” He shakes his head, jaw visibly clenching even behind the mask. “Ya can’t even see what’s right in front ‘a your face.”
Your brow furrows; what the hell is he talking about? His remark catches you off-guard and you stand silently in confusion as you contemplate what the hell he’s trying to say, but he’s gone completely silent, just breathing heavy breaths into your face. Enough, he needs to just spit out so this can end.
“Since I’m so fucking stupid, why don’t you spell it out for me. Stop playing these fucking games with me, Simon.”
Fine, no more games. His skin tingles with the heat from the adrenaline flooding his limbs and all at once everything happens in a flash. Only inches remain between you and in that moment they suddenly feel as wide as the ocean; it makes him ache and the urge to close the distance overwhelms every sense. Reaching towards his face with his free hand his mask is wrenched above his lips before he pulls your head forward by your throat and leans in to catch your mouth with his. The kiss is so full of aggression that it knocks the air out of your lungs.
There is nowhere for you to go, nothing you can do, but hold on as he takes what he wants from your mouth. He steals kiss after frantic kiss as if he has been starved for them, not evening pausing to give you a second to come up for breath.
All that anger that had just been bubbling inside you is redirected and suddenly instead of wanting to push him away you want him as close as possible. Your fingers claw into his shoulders through his leather riding jacket as you try to pull him into you, but they are immediately ripped off as he grabs them and pins the wrists to the wall above your head. Between the breaks in your mouth’s connection, he gasps out the words he should have said back in his room.
“Ya need ta understand. Can’t just have ya a few fuckin’ times and tha’s it. Can’t get enough a ya. Was a goddamn fool not ta speak up sooner. Want ya for myself an’ I don’t share what’s mine. An’ you’re mine, luv,” he gasps into your parted lips, giving your neck a squeeze for emphasis. “Ya hear that? Mine.”
He nips at your bottom lip, sharp teeth cutting into the plump flesh to make you moan at the delicious harshness. God, your desperate sounds are like a drug; he can’t get enough and the more needy you become, the better they get. Pulling back just as you try to go in for more, he stares into your eyes, his gaze darkening within the confines of his mask still clinging to the top half of his face. “Can’t ‘ave anyone else tryin’ to get at what’s mine. Any prick that tries ta take ya away from me, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im.”
Admission finished Simon’s eyes flutter closed as he dives right back into your lips, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth, parting through your lips as he forces his way in until the muscle has filled you full. It plays against the roof of your mouth and over your tongue, tasting you, devouring all he can like a beast ravenous to take all that it can get.
All that pent up desire being released onto you.
His bulky muscles against your chest crush your body into the wall and you can barely breathe, but you would gladly suffocate if it meant your curves could stay molded into each other like this for longer. Then you feel it, that bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans, and the walls of your pussy involuntarily clench. Suddenly you need it inside you.
As if he has read your mind, Simon wrenches himself from your lips. “Unless ya want me ta fuck ya on the side ‘a this buildin’, get to tha car,” he growls, his voice husky. “Now.”
It only takes a few seconds before you’re both jostling into the back of your car and slamming the doors shut, Simon’s jacket discarded on the ground right outside the door. His massive size takes up most of the cramped interior of the vehicle, but still he manages to maneuver onto his knees over top of you as he lays your back down against the seat. With one hand he undoes your pants, clasp first and then zipper, and pulls them down just under the curve of your ass and forcefully rips them off your legs as he rips his shirt off over his head with the other. The mask is taken with it and all the clothes get tossed somewhere into the floor of the car as he hikes one of your legs up to rest on his broad shoulder.
“Need it,” he says, feverishly kissing down the length to your thigh. “Need ta be inside ya right this second.”
“Yes, Simon,” you whimper as he undoes his jeans and pulls out his cock. It bobs up and down with the beats of his heart and he moans at the sensitivity as he takes it into his hand.
“Ya said I didn’t ‘ave a claim, well I’m ‘ere to claim ya now. But I need ta say it, sweetheart,” he returns as his fingertips hook into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side before he angles himself against your pussy and starts slipping himself through your petals with agonizingly slow thrusts of his hips. “Say you’re mine.”
You swallow to coat the dryness in your throat. “I’m yours Simon,” you say, but the measured nature of his strokes don’t stop.
“Again.”
The tip of his cock prods against your clit and you whimper at how swollen it is and how much you need something to take the edge off. “I’m all yours Simon!” you whimper so pathetically as the throbbing intensifies the more he repeats the same.
His hand digs harder into your hip as he leans in closer to your face. “I. Said. Again.”
You close your eyes tight, clenching as you pant and gather the strength to reply with everything you have. “Simon, baby, please. I fucking need you so bad. I can’t fucking take it. I swear that I am only yours; there won’t ever be anyone else.”
The heat of his lips near yours makes you shiver. “Look who can’t handle things now,” he says with a smugness that makes goosebumps raise over your skin. “ Now, arch ya back a little more for me.” His command is direct and you follow without hesitation, presenting yourself to him like you are in heat, begging to be filled.
“Fuck sweetheart, jus’ tha thought of ya with anyone else gets me so god damned riled up,” he says with a grunt as he positions himself at your entrance, your panties nearly ripping still laced in his fingers. “No one can ‘ave ya like this ‘cept me. Understand?”
You give him a vigorous nod, praying that soon the agony will end. “No one.” Your repeated words are a plea.
Simon’s heart races at how you say it. “You’re neva’ gonna stray, are ya?”
“No,” you whine.
“Good fuckin’ girl.”
With that he shoves in just the tip through the threshold, instantly feeling the stretch of your core by the girth of it, groaning through a chuckle as you mewl taking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and snaps his hips to thrust all the way down to the base of his shaft. The wind gets knocked out of you, but again he doesn’t pause and the axle of the car creaks as his desperate strokes overwhelm everything from you to the vehicle with the force.
“Ya think anyone else can make ya feel like this?” he asks through gritted teeth as he pounds into you hard and rough over and over again in rhythm. “Some manky bastard gonna make ya moan like this?”
There’s no way you can answer him with how full your mouth is with moans, how numb your mind is as everything in you focuses on the sensation of his thrusts reaching deeper and deeper inside. It only gets worse when he decides that one leg on his shoulder isn’t enough; it needs its twin on the opposite one. From here you swear you can feel him in your stomach with how deep he penetrates.
“Ya think he would even know what ya like? How to play with your clit, how to suck on your tits till you’re vibratin’ and your toes curl?”
How the fuck did he remember all that? You’ve only been together a few times and yet it’s obvious that he’s paid so much attention to detail that he’s memorized everything of those intimate details that make you a mess. As if right on cue his hand slips down between your bodies and parts through your petals to massage the nub at the top of your pussy.
“Ya think I wouldn’t care ta know what ya like?” he asks, the gravel in his voice delicious and yet menacing as you throw your head back and release a loud moan. “How else am I gonna make sure ya belong ta me? I need ta fuckin’ ruin this sweet little pussy so no one else can compare. I wanna be the only fuckin’ thing in that pretty head ‘a yours.”
As if you’d ever have the strength after this to even think of another man that isn’t him. The fictional man that got you into this predicament didn’t even exist and yet somehow you still feel guilty about him. There is only Simon, your Simon, that you can’t get enough of; no one else can ever come close.
The lights in the parking lot kick on just as the last bit of daylight slips under the horizon and you can see now just how fogged up the windows are as Simon rips up your shirt and bra together, stuffing the clothing up around your neck and popping both breasts out of their cage before letting your legs slips from his shoulders to fall and wrap around his hips.
“Can’t forget about these beauties,” he growls before diving in face first and catching one with his mouth.
Hot lips latch on as he braces a hand against the steam-covered window to hold himself steady so that he can continue to pump in and out of your tight hole and play with your clit as his tongue teases the nipple until it’s stiff and you can feel the pleasurable sensation down between your thighs. The moans filling the car come faster and faster as the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach grows. Simon doesn’t even come up for air, just switches sides to play with the other nipple until it too is hard; he wants a matching set before you come and he is gonna get what he wants.
Your thighs squeeze down on his hips as that heat violently gathering in the pit of your stomach starts to come to a head and a devilish idea floods your thoughts. It won’t be long now and your orgasm will be coursing through you, but that’s not enough. If he wants to claim you, he is going to claim all of you…and fill you full.
“Don’t pull out,” you stammer out and he falters in his thrusts.
Simon quickly releases your breast from his mouth.“What did ya say?”
You lock your ankles together tightly behind his back so he can’t escape. “Don’t you dare pull out,” you repeat and he nearly comes right then and there just from how the request makes his heartbeat pound. “God, I’m so close, baby. Please, I need you to come in me.”
Fuck, what a request. How the hell could he possibly refuse? He made a declaration after all and he intends to keep it; he is going to ruin you and he is more than willing to breed you to do it. His hands move to your hips and he buries his fingers in the muscles.
“Then you’re gonna get what ya fuckin’ want, sweetheart,” he says as he strikes up into you with a newfound vigor that makes your body bounce. “You’re gonna take every last goddamn ounce.”
“Right there,” you moan, the pressure euphoric, “stay right there.”
He grunts. “Come for me. Come on my cock. Let me feel that fuckin’ clench.”
He struggles to repeat the same exact movements, his own release about to pop off at any second, but with a bit of effort his hard work pays off and that heat reaches its peak. The tension snaps harshly and tears through you until your body is jerking as you ride out wave after wave of ecstasy.
God, the way your walls are fluttering around him as you let go is heaven and he loses himself in the sensation. All that tight, wet, heat sends tingles through his cock and he can no longer remain sane.
“My pretty girl…” he murmurs, his thrusts slowly getting more sloppy… “mine…” he repeats, nearly there, preparing to make sure you take every ounce of his cum and coat your walls… “all fuckin’ mine.”
That’s it, he can’t take another thrust and with an open-mouthed moan he comes hard. Cum shoots up inside you as he milks himself with your body until he has nothing left to give and kneels there resting inside you. You watch the muscles along his abdomen contract and release as he slowly comes back down from that high.
Such a masterpiece of flesh.
Minutes pass until he feels like he can pull out and he spends that time peppering your lips with tender kisses. Finally he carefully removes your legs from around him and sets them down on either side of his thighs, holding them open so that he can lean back and watch his cum and your slick dribble out of your cunt onto the cushion beneath you. What a beautiful mess he’s made; he can’t stop staring at it as if he’s in a trance.
A visual sign that his claim is finally complete.
“Tha’s a sight that could do me in,” he breathes. “Ya did so good for me, sweetheart.”
He releases your panties so that they fall back into place and you can feel everything starting to gather in the crotch. You sit up and he pulls your face in for one last kiss; you’ve been here long enough that if you don’t get out of here soon it’s gonna draw unwanted attention.
“Now get your ass back ta base and make it quick,” he says as he pulls slowly from your lips, “I want ya in my room, in tha shower; ya got exactly 20 minutes so ya best not stop. I’m not done with ya just yet.”
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod mw2#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon smut#simon#ghost simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost smut#ghost#ghost cod smut#cod ghost#cod
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────⠀ ⠀ oh to sit on dean winchester's face⠀ᥫ᭡
warnings 𓂅 ✶ face sitting, oral (f!recieving), softdom!dean, afab!reader, uhh implied oral(m!recieving) ending.
when dean saw how petulant you were getting, all pissy with him, he knew exactly what was going on. maybe you were feeling pent up, clearly, since every little thing was setting you off and he hated to see you so wound up. you'd been getting on his ass the entire hunt, even being snappy with witnesses—that wasn't like you at all. he'd tried to figure out what was up with you, a million times. it wasn't getting him fucking anywhere.
"you gonna tell me what's up now?" you'd simply frown and look away, and he knows he won't get it out of you in the usual ways of being gentle and comforting. "fine, be like that then," he'd grumble in return, looking back at the steering wheel as he drove around the backwater town you two had found yourself in.
it's getting on his nerves as much as something's definitely getting on yours. dean'll figure it out eventually. he's softer with you in moments like this, not teasing you as much as he usually does so he doesn't piss you off as much. it's like setting off a live wire and he sure as hell ain't in the business to be doing all that. there's a hunt at hand, but he's realising you need sorting out before anything in that regard can get done.
when the two of you get back to a motel you'd grabbed, the hunt still proving fruitless. sam was fuck knows where, having said he wanted to work on some leads with cas, leaving you and dean together. he didn't mind, neither did you, since you two love eachother so damn much, but when you're so temperamental like this? always biting at him? a little hard to enjoy the alone time when he's walking on damn eggshells around you.
but he knew what you needed. needed your pussy ate, that's what. neeeded to get off, somehow, huh? you always got so sharp with him when you were pent up, all horny and frustrated. it was kind of becoming a game of his, see how long he could leave you pent up only to bring you to the edge over and over again till you calmed down.
"gotta come up with other ways to let out your frustration, baby, 'cause bein' horny ain't no excuse to start snappin' at me," he mutters, locking the motel door behind the two of you. you grumble at that, "not horny, just.." knowing full well you're lying through your teeth. how can you not be? like, he looks too damn good when he's impersonating law enforcement, that tight white shirt which he on occasion rolls up to his elbows—fuck, it's like he wants you to be pent up.
"starin' at me like you're gonna eat me whole, sweetheart. can't lie to me," you really can't, dean practically knows you better than you know yourself. his green eyes meet yours and he scoffs.
"that's not fair," you're shrugging off your blazer, hooking it over the coat hook by the door of the motel room. you do notice how dean rakes his eyes over you, seemingly happy with what he's seeing. you know he is, he's told you and shown you countless times in motels rooms quite similar to this one, actually.
dean tugs his tie from around his neck, draping it over the edge of the motel bed before he wanders over to the bed. he kicks off his shoes, leaving them on the floor before laying himself down on his back. he looked up at you with an expectant upwards cock of his brows. "right, you. c'mere," he gestures to his face, hands open for you to come sit yourself down on him and go to town. he barely suppresses a laugh at your expression, but he means it.
"you're not—" you're sceptical. you'd been pissing him off all day with your attitude and instead of being angry at you he's offering his face for you to sit on? you stand there for a moment, gnawing your bottom lip. "really?" your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and dean softens a little bit at that.
"yeah, really," he slides his hands over the first few buttons of his shirt, in case he gets too warm with you sat over top him, before he gestured you over again. "don't make me drag you over here, y'know i'll do it." he most definitely will. you groan at that, knowing what lies ahead of you. "and you know you wanna."
you really do, that's the issue. he's right. you stare at him, and sigh under your breath. as much as you wanted to resist, be petty, you physically couldn't. "yeah, okay, hold on," you mutter, corners of your lips tugging upwards at the corners. dean practically cheers, he literally lives to please you, to make you feel good.
"just a second," you hum, sliding your hands into the sides of your slacks and easing them down. dean's eyes immediately drop down to your thighs, his tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip before he gazes back up at your face. he nods for you to continue, and you do, stepping out of your trousers and kicking them away from you.
"lookin' real pretty, sweetheart," dean murmurs, smiling softly at the sight of you. he shifts his weight upwards, so he can look at you properly. holding his hands out for you once more, he hums low under his breath. that coaxes you to make your way over to him, albeit the tiniest bit reluctantly still. you're still all tense. he hates seeing you so high strung. making your way over to the bed, your knees dig into the soft mattress, dipping it a little. dean quickly places his hands on your hips, sliding up under the blouse you're wearing.
his eyes rake up and down you, "gorgeous," he mumbles under his breath, squeezing at your flesh in gentle motions. as much as he'd like to worship your whole body right now, he's focused on worshiping a specific part of you right now. "you're okay with this?" he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your navel, eyes lifting back up to yours. "yeah," you murmur, "of course i am." he just needed to make sure.
"yeah? alright, up you get," dean lifts you to the side a little bit, slowly shuffling back down on the bed and laying against the mattress. his head rests against the pillow, eyes fluttering up and down you for a minute. "okay," you're tentative for a moment, reaching for your panties. though dean reaches over and eases them down your thighs for you. he swallows hard at the clear arousal dampening the thin fabric of your underwear, his breath hitching in his throat.
"starin'," you tell him gently, a soft smile playing on your lips at the sight of him. dean's eyes dart back up to yours and she scoffs, gently slapping your thigh a little bit before he grasps at your hips again. "can't wait any longer, up," he murmurs, and you bite your lip for a minute before you grasp at the headboard of the bed. dean's practically salivating, his tongue poking at the inside of his mouth for a minute before he practically tugs you down onto him.
"hold tight for me," dean mumbled, shifting his weight against the bed. just the sight of your bare pussy hovering mere inches above his face has him reeling. without hesitation, he grasps at your hips properly and tugs you down onto him. burying his face between your thighs, he lets his tongue delve into your warm, slick folds—lapping at your clit with a hungry fervour. "fuck, baby.."
you gasp shakily, your breaths picking up almost immediately at the feel of his tongue plunging against your warmth. "oh, shit," you grasp tighter at the bedframe, head tipping back a little bit. your thighs squeeze around his head, and he groans into you at the feeling. he uses the flat of his tongue to spread your wetness around, before his tongue darts back and forth over your clit, suckling at it insistently.
"that's it," dean moans into you, eyes fluttering shut juat at the feeling of your hips rocking up against him. he licks a thick line down your pussy, hiking you up him a little bit. his nose bumping against your clit as he slowly traces his tongue over your entrance. he flutters his tongue against your wet slit, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh a little tighter.
he groans into your cunt, the vibration sending a shiver down your spin and causing your hips to twitch againsr his face again. dean tightens his grip on your hips to try encourage you to grind down against his tongue even more, coaxing louder sounds from you. "holy fucking shit," dean lets out a low laugh against you, smacking your thigh for a moment at that. it only urges you to grind down further.
dean's nothing if not focused when it comes to making you feel good, and as he suckles at your clit, flicking his tongue against it and sucking on it, he's dedicated to the job. "so wet for me, yeah, that's it, ride my face, go on," his words are muffled by his position between your thighs but you can hear them clear enough. he might be throbbing beneath the fabric of his boxers, blood rushing to his dick with every cant of your hips, but he has to make sure you're satisifed first. "that's it, baby."
he runs his hand up between your thighs, lifting his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves, feeling the way your thighs squeeze around his head and tremble against him. "dean, dea—" dean squeezes at your thighs to shush you, murmuring against you, "i know, baby, gonna come all over my face." he squeezes at your hips a little tighter, rutting you down against him so he can circle his tongue around your entrance once more. a few more tight circles made by his thumb and your movements stutter, thighs shaking even more as your orgasm hits you.
dean's groaning the whole way, happily lapping up all of your juices with no complaints. the fact he's making you feel good is more than enough for him, more than enough. "shit," he mumbles, laying back for a moment just to take in what just just happened. before he gets a chance to help you off of him, you're easing yourself off him. "that was—hey, where are you goin'—" his eyes widen as you're practically crawling down his body, settling yourself between his thighs.
"can i?" repay the favour, of course. he'd made you feel so good, after all.
dean's in a little daze, his breathing heavy. he lifts his hand to wipe his face of your release, blinking for a minute. sliding up the headboard, his hand moves to the back of your head easily and he mutters, "like you even gotta ask, baby." his free hand unbuttons his trousers with ease, "all yours."
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#𐙚˙ ana writes ⋆.˚#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles#dean winchester x you#jensen ackles x you#supernatural#supernatural x reader#supernatural smut#spn x reader#spn smut#supernatural x you#spn x you#spn
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CORRECTION ⋆✦⋆ ushijima wakatoshi
synopsis ➸ after a fight that was entirely your fault, you’d do anything to make it up to your husband. and by anything, you really mean anything.
tags ➸ dom!toshi, size kink duh, belly bulge, cockwarming, dirty talking, degradation, punishment sex, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, manhandling, spanking, slight asphyxiation, rough sex
wc ➸ 3.6k
The living room settled in tense silence, only the faint ticking of the wall clock filling the stillness between you and Ushijima. He sat rigidly on the couch, back ramrod straight as his piercing gaze stayed locked onto the volleyball match playing across the TV.
You lingered by the entryway for a long moment, worrying your lower lip as you studied the stern lines of your husband's profile. Even in his obvious frustration, you couldn't tear your eyes away from that strong jaw peppered with the faintest hint of stubble—a delicious reminder of how he felt like rugged velvet under your touch.
With a shaky inhale, you finally summoned the nerve to approach the couch. Ushijima didn't so much as twitch a muscle as you settled onto the cushion beside him—cognizant of the careful distance you left between your bodies out of instinct now. More than once before, you'd gravitated into his personal space during an argument only for the overwhelming pull of his presence to leave you utterly distracted and undone far too soon.
"'Toshi..." you began hesitantly, craving the familiar cadence of his name on your tongue despite the circumstances. "Can we talk about this? Please?"
Your plaintive murmur seemed to drift across that weighted chasm without any effect. Ushijima's jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, but beyond that razor-sharp movement he remained utterly motionless. You recognized the subtle tells immediately—those micro gestures so easily missed by anyone not intimately attuned to each infinitesimal shift in his demeanor.
Despite his frustration, he was pointedly restraining himself from any potential overreactions in the moment. Years of sharpening that single-minded discipline coiled like taut cords beneath his olive complexion as Ushijima listened in silence. His strength of will always hit you with renewed reverence in these tense moments between you both.
"I shouldn't have said those awful things earlier," you pressed on, hating the tremor in your voice but pressing forward regardless. "You were just trying to help and I...I lashed out in the worst possible way when you were only looking out for me like always."
You fell silent again as Ushijima worked his sharp jawline, clearly processing your paltry apology behind that unshakable mask of restraint. You studied the minute details greedily—the burnished gold flecks gleaming in his irises, the faintest hollow of his cheeks carving into sharp relief whenever his jaw tensed in irritation. The familiar pull of adoration despite your self-recrimination threatened to steal your breath entirely.
Because no matter how he punished you with frigid indifference or terse retorts, Ushijima remained the single most beautiful man you'd ever feasted your eyes upon in your entire life. A sublime vision of rugged, masculine strength burning with unshakable passion tucked beneath that stoic exterior that few ever got to taste the true depths of so intimately.
Heart pounding against your ribcage, you finally indulged your impulses in the face of his frustrated silence. You scooted closer, allowing your palm to drift over the thick cable of muscle joining his throat and collarbone in a whisper of contact.
Ushijima drew a sharp inhale through his flared nostrils, but he didn't cease you. So you traced your fingertips further down over his pec, feeling the coarse fabric stretched taut over his sinuous chest. You swallowed hard at the heat and hardness radiating off him—achingly familiar textures you recognized better than your own skin.
"I'm sorry..." you rasped out once more, barely restraining a whimper as you slid your palm across his abdomen next.
You watched Ushijima's knuckles whiten around the remote gripped tightly in one large fist, his jaw ticking with the minute clenches and releases indicating his struggle for control. Lower still, you drifted over the rigid corrugation of his stomach, fingertips dipping beneath the hem to find the sublime ridges of his Adonis belt finally. Shameless in your worship, you followed the carved trail lower to palm the distinct swell of his cock already tenting the front of his sweatpants openly.
Ushijima let slip a low groan then, eyes fluttering shut briefly as you boldly kneaded the rigid length through the thin material. You licked your lips reflexively, mouth flooding with saliva at the sheer masculine musk wafting off that sensitive area you'd mapped and savored so many times before.
"Please, 'Toshi..." you demanded with a raw tremor of need roughening your voice now. "Let me make this up to you properly..."
Olive-toned lids sliced back open to pin you beneath the full weight of that blazing glare. You held his scorching scrutiny steadily as Ushijima seemed to silently weigh his next calculated move in the wake of your unashamed seduction attempts.
Then his large palm anchored itself against your nape forcefully, dragging you forward until your parted lips ghosted his own in dizzying proximity. You whimpered openly at the molten brand of his touch and piercing focus honed solely on you entirely.
"You've been very naughty indeed, wife," he rumbled out with a dark, rasping undercurrent that made your belly swoop with visceral heat. "Purposefully testing my restraint like a spoiled brat desperate for a thorough... correction, aren't you?"
You shivered bodily at the wicked promise laced through his gravelly benediction, aching to shift closer and chase more of that delicious friction and searing drag of his calloused palms over your sensitized nerves. Somehow though, you managed a jerky nod instead—surrendering over without further protest to Ushijima's unholy thrall and the intimate torments sure to follow.
In one graceful, unhurried movement, he tugged you fully into the cradle of his lap. Those large palms anchored your hips flush against him as his hooded stare drank in the sight of you spread so wantonly across his solid bulk.
"I'm not finished punishing you yet, little minx," Ushijima promised through barely parted lips, calluses raking over your lower back possessively. "But I suppose indulging you some sweet relief along the way couldn't hurt...as long as you take all of it, of course."
He didn't wait for an answer, large palm wrapping around your nape once more to tug you into a brutal kiss that stole your breath entirely. Ushijima devoured your every whimper and whine hungrily, the slick slide of his tongue tangling against your own enough to make you melt further into the furnace of his embrace.
It felt like an eternity before he finally eased off the drugging assault of his lips and teeth and tongue. Your mind whirled with a pleasant haze as you swayed dazedly, struggling to regain your equilibrium in the wake of Ushijima's devastating attentions.
"Take off your panties," he ordered in a husky baritone, those callused hands falling away from your body. "Only your panties."
You trembled faintly, fingers trembling as they obeyed the directive immediately. You lifted up onto your knees just enough to slip your underwear off beneath the hem of your— his shirt, thighs slick and sticky with your arousal as you settled back into his lap.
Ushijima's nostrils flared with his shallow, ragged breaths as his hungry gaze raked over the obscene display. One large palm slid over your inner thigh, nudging your legs open wider for his viewing pleasure. You shuddered visibly as he traced his thumb down the slick seam of your cunt, his touch so infuriatingly gentle and slow.
"You're always so wet and ready for me, my love..." he rumbled out, gaze darkening further at the way your arousal smeared his thumb with a shiny coat. "It's almost a shame I have to be so cruel, but you deserve nothing less, don't you agree?"
You shuddered again, thighs trembling with the strain of remaining upright as he continued to tease and torment you so cruelly. "Y-yes, 'Toshi," you managed to reply hoarsely, fingers twisting into the thin cotton covering his chest. "Please..."
He gave no indication of acknowledgement, continuing his leisurely torture of tracing over every inch of your slick folds save where you craved him most. You bucked your hips up, searching for the relief that eluded you, only to earn a firm slap on the ass for your trouble.
"Patience," he reminded you in a clipped tone, not bothering to slow the torment even as he disciplined you. You whimpered but forced yourself to be still, fingers digging into the hard planes of his pecs as he toyed with you so cruelly.
It felt like forever until he finally brushed against your swollen clit. You shuddered visibly, eyes rolling back with a guttural groan at the sensation.
"I know what you want, love..." Ushijima rasped, dragging his thumb in firm, tight circles against the bundle of nerves. "I know what this greedy cunt craves, but you've been so disobedient and naughty. It'd be unfair of me to give you the relief you so desperately need, wouldn't it?"
"I'll behave, 'Toshi, I swear," you gasped out, hips rocking against his touch despite yourself. "Please, please..."
The rough pads of his fingertips circled your entrance, teasing you with the slightest breach but never enough to penetrate. You let out a frustrated sob, tears blurring your vision with the intensity of your need.
"Oh, you're definitely going to behave..." he agreed, the subtle edge of a threat lacing his husky baritone. "And you'll learn to appreciate my punishments properly, too."
Before you could process his cryptic statement, the blunt head of his cock nudged your slick folds. You sucked in a sharp breath as the chubby tip dragged up and down, coating himself in your essence with each agonizing pass.
Your husband wasn’t a small man by any stretch of the imagination—and his girth and length had been daunting even on your wedding night. You'd been nervous, yes, but he'd been a patient and attentive lover that made sure to leave no part of you unsatisfied.
But this? This was an entirely different level of fullness as Ushijima slowly impaled you inch by agonizing inch, stretching you around the thick length until you swore he'd split you in two. You'd barely adjusted to the overwhelming sensations when he gripped your hip with a punishing hold, pulling you down fully to seat him to the hilt inside of you.
"Now sit still," he ordered gruffly, emerald eyes flashing with dark intent as he reached for the remote control abandoned beside him. "I've got a game to finish and you're going to help me enjoy it."
"Wh-what do you—"
The question died on your tongue as he resumed the program, his other hand splayed possessively over the curve of your hip to keep you from moving. He gave no further explanation, gaze flickering back to the TV as he leaned back into the couch cushions once more.
You stared at him incredulously, mouth hanging open as he proceeded to ignore your presence entirely. Your eyes widened with disbelief when you realized the full extent of his plan—the wicked, horrible, cruel plan he'd concocted to punish you.
"No," you groaned, shaking your head vigorously. "No, please, 'Toshi! This isn't fair!"
His grip only tightened on your hip, the pressure enough to bruise in the most delicious way possible. "Fairness isn't an issue when it comes to punishments, love," he replied mildly, as if he wasn't balls-deep inside you and refusing to move. "Now, behave. Otherwise you won’t get my cock for the rest of the week."
You let out another miserable sound at the threat, the sheer idea of him leaving you unsatisfied and craving his touch for an entire week enough to make you go insane. Tears blurred your vision as he continued to watch the game with utter nonchalance, acting as if his cock wasn't sheathed in the tight grip of your cunt.
You were so painfully full and yet, you wanted more. Craved that delicious friction that only came from Ushijima using your body in whatever ways pleased him most. The urge to rock and grind against him overwhelmed your senses, but his grip held you steady.
You looked down to where his cock pierced into you so deeply, your eyes widening at the slight bulge of his girth visible through your lower abdomen. You whimpered, the sight of it turning you on beyond belief. You clenched and squeezed around his hard length, reveling in the way his nostrils flared and his jaw tensed slightly.
At least he wasn't entirely unaffected.
A wicked idea suddenly sparked, lighting your insides with a fresh wave of fire. You leaned back, bracing yourself with a hand against his knees until the outline of his cock jutted more prominently through the soft skin. You swallowed hard, taking a steadying breath before you pressed down on the bulge with your other palm.
Ushijima let slip a guttural sound then, the noise low and dangerous and so fucking sexy you had to bite your lip to stifle a whimper. But the damage was already done, your hips giving an aborted roll on instinct before he stilled you.
"Behave," he warned you in a raspy undertone, those piercing eyes honing in on the subtle outline of his cock visible beneath your lower belly. He let out another groan, his fingers digging into the meat of your hip hard enough to leave new marks.
You couldn't help yourself—not when you knew how much it affected him, too. You repeated the motion, rolling your hips forward with a gentle press. Ushijima's eyes fluttered shut, his breathing growing ragged and shallow.
You did it again and again, each time pressing down with more and more pressure until the game became little more than white noise to your ears. All that mattered was watching Ushijima's self-control slowly slip as you worked his cock deeper inside you with every deliberate thrust.
His fingers fell away from your hip, and you didn't waste the opportunity. Your pace was slow and steady, grinding him into your slick walls with a filthy grind of your hips. His head lolled back, the veins in his throat protruding starkly as he finally succumbed to the pleasure of your body.
You continued riding him torturously slow, working every last inch of his impressive girth inside you until his cock kissed the opening to your cervix. Your clit dragged along the coarse hair of his pelvis on each downward thrust, and soon your own breathing became ragged with the intensity of your pleasure.
You were so close—so fucking close, your toes curling and core tightening with each delicious glide of his cock against your spasming walls. Just a few more strokes and you'd have the release you so desperately craved...
Only then Ushijima's strong arm locked around your waist, tugging you back into his chest and pinning you there with his iron-clad grip. You cried out, the denial making your skin burn and pulse thrum wildly.
"Did I tell you to move?" he demanded in a ragged voice, teeth nipping the shell of your ear sharply.
"Please, 'Toshi," you sobbed out, nails biting into his forearm as you squirmed in his hold. "I'll be good, I promise. Just fuck me, please!"
His free hand slid over your inner thigh, spreading them apart and leaving your aching pussy exposed and dripping. The rough pad of his thumb found your clit, drawing torturous circles against the bundle of nerves as he nipped and bit at your neck.
"That’s too bad," he replied in a husky rasp, the dark edge to his voice making your belly swoop. "Because I'm not done with my game yet. If you move one more time without permission, I'll pull out and finish in my fist instead. Do you understand, love?"
You whined and whimpered but managed to jerk your head into a nod. "Yes, yes, please..."
"Good girl," he rumbled, giving your clit a final flick before he resumed his hold on your hip.
You forced yourself to remain still and silent, not daring to move an inch lest he make good on his threat. Tears slipped down your cheeks at the agony of waiting and watching Ushijima continue to ignore you in favor of the game.
His fingers flexed against your hip, a subtle tremor in the muscle and tendons that betrayed his struggle for control. He was holding back, you realized, not willing to give in just yet. You clenched around him deliberately, reveling in the way he twitched and hardened even further.
The sudden roar of the crowd from the TV was enough to startle you both, and Ushijima let slip a guttural growl as you tightened reflexively. Your heart pounded wildly, and you could feel the sweat slicking his chest beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.
"Fuck it," he swore under his breath, finally reaching for the remote and switching off the TV with a flick of his thumb.
In the next instant, Ushijima's large palms wrapped around your hips. He lifted you up, pulling out and flipping you around so you were bent over the arm of the couch. One large palm pressed between your shoulder blades, pushing you into the cushions. The other grabbed your hip, anchoring your lower half up so your ass jutted out lewdly.
He nudged your thighs wider with a knee, and then he was sliding back into you. You moaned at the fullness, the delicious stretch of your walls around his thick girth. You fisted the couch cushions, burying your face into the plush fabric as he finally began pounding into you with a ruthless pace.
His grip was bruising, but you welcomed the ache, reveling in the sweet mix of pain and pleasure that only he could bring. His other hand slid over the slope of your ass, and you shivered as he caressed the tender flesh before a sharp smack rang through the air.
"Greedy, insatiable whore," Ushijima growled, palming the abused skin as you gasped and rocked back into him. "Making me break my own rules. Now I'll have to discipline you some more, won't I?"
"Yes," you cried out, his name falling from your lips like a benediction as his hips pistoned into you with a punishing rhythm. "Yes, yes, punish me, 'Toshi! Please!"
He gave your ass a harsher slap, the sting making you yelp and writhe beneath his weight. You could feel him throbbing and twitching inside you, his own orgasm fast approaching.
"Is this what you wanted, little minx?" Ushijima demanded in a husky tone, his hand sliding from your ass to curl over your throat. He pulled you upright, forcing your back to arch and breasts to thrust out as his fingers flexed. His other hand smoothed over your lower belly, thumb tracing the slight bulge of his cock spearing into you.
"Y-yes," you gasped out, head falling back onto his shoulder as he pounded into you with brutal precision. You reached up and twisted a hand into his hair, gripping him tightly as he nipped and sucked at the juncture of your shoulder.
"I can feel myself in you, love," he rasped, his hips slapping against yours in a wet, filthy slide. "Can you feel how deep I am? How your cunt's swallowing me whole?"
"Yes, yes, yes," you sobbed out, eyes rolling back and lashes fluttering. The hand on your stomach found your clit, the rough pads of his fingertips stroking and circling the sensitive bud in a dizzying tempo. "So deep, 'Toshi, so full!"
"Cum for me, sweetheart," he ordered in a husky baritone, his hips losing their steady rhythm. You could feel his cock twitching and throbbing inside you, and the knowledge that he was about to lose control set off a fresh wave of arousal. "Now."
Your body obeyed before you could even process his demand, every muscle and tendon in your body going taut with a force so intense it was nearly painful. You clenched and spasmed around him, hot, fragrant liquid gushing and squirting around his cock as you came harder than ever before.
"F-fuck," Ushijima groaned, his cock throbbing and twitching inside of you as you came undone. He buried his face into your neck, hips stilling as his release spilled deep inside you. He kept pumping his hips, the warm flood of his cum clinging to your walls and filling you so completely.
He held you upright as you both came down from your highs, his breath hot and ragged against your throat. His hand slid over the soft skin of your belly, the other still gently massaging your clit to prolong your orgasm.
It took a moment for you to regain your senses, blinking dazedly as he carefully lowered you onto the couch. You shuddered as he pulled out, a hot rush of his release seeping from your swollen cunt. You winced, the sensation almost painful as you slumped bonelessly into the cushions.
Ushijima knelt before you, olive-hued eyes roving over your thoroughly ravished form as if to assess his work. A faint flush stained his high cheekbones, his dark hair disheveled from your greedy hands and damp with perspiration. He leaned forward, large palm sliding up your inner thigh as he pressed a kiss to the tender flesh of your sex.
You shuddered at the tender gesture, fingers twisting into his hair once more. "Did I... Am I forgiven yet?" you managed to rasp out, wincing slightly at the hoarseness of your voice.
His lips curled into a slight smirk, gaze flashing up at you knowingly. "Not yet," he rumbled, his fingertips stroking lightly over the soft petals of your cunt. "I don't think you've learned your lesson properly just yet. Now, why don't we go upstairs, hmm? I have a few ideas of what I can do to you next..."
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader smut#ushijima smut#ushijima x reader#ushijima x reader smut#ushijima wakatoshi#wakatoshi x reader#wakatoshi smut#wakatoshi x reader smut
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GHOSTLY ROMANCE ♡
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader
𝐖𝐂: 8k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when it becomes blatantly obvious your house is being haunted, the only thing there is for you to do is coexist but what do you do when that ghostly presence haunting your house begins haunting your heart ??
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, making out, obsessive! toji, ghost! toji, slight perv! toji, toji has a big dick, dirty talk, fingering, voyeurism (?), p in v sex, squirting, creampie, f!reader, reader referred to as 'woman', i think that's all ♡
As of late, you’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that your house is haunted, and you aren’t really sure how to react. Often times, you’ll find things aren’t where you left them, some objects are moved just slightly of where they were, and other things are found in completely different rooms.
Sometimes when you go to lock your doors and windows for the night, you find it’s already been done. Innocuous and for the most part these are things you could brush off as you being absent minded, the kicker comes when you start seeing a figure out the corner of your eye or in a passing reflection.
Ignoring it all has been your go to, deciding it’s best to just pretend it’s not happening, and you would continue to keep doing so but your sleep is getting interrupted now and if there is anything you don’t get in between, it’s you and your sleep.
The dreams you’ve been having have started to wander into the obscure territory of some man you don’t recognise living in your house. He walks around like he owns the place, locking doors, closing curtains. It’s not particularly scary but it is unsettling and leaves you feeling unrested, like you didn’t sleep much at all.
Now, as you’re trying to get some well-deserved rest, something goes bump in the night, and you just know it’s that stupid man haunting your house. Frustratedly, you kick the covers off your body and stomp down the hall to where you think the sound originated from.
Arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, you wait for something, anything, but of course nothing comes. This ghost, entity, or whatever, that’s haunting you started off as easy to ignore and now it’s pissing you off greatly, you just want some damn sleep.
“You got me here, you got me out of bed so you must want something,” your foot continues to tap, increasing pace with your bad mood.
The room continues to be blanketed by the quiet you so badly wanted while you were drifting to sleep, “You’re so rude, haunting me with stupid dreams and moving my shit…” you’re grumbling to yourself, “…haven’t slept well in over a week and now I can’t even get to sleep!”
Still, the room is filled by the deafening silence that usually lingers in your house at this hour, “Great… and now I’m talking to myself, I’m going fucking crazy.”
As you turn to leave the room, you bump into something that feels as stiff as a board. You take a few steps back at it and you’re met with someone’s chest. The person in front of you leans down until they meet your face, his tone deep and monotone when he lets out a low, “Boo.”
It almost feels like the blood drains out of your body at the sight of him and before you have time to really process, your hand is reaching back and up to give him a hard slap right across the face. A small yelp leaving you at it, the smack resounding throughout the otherwise quiet house.
When you draw your hand back, it’s to cover your mouth as you gasp at just how hard you seemed to have slapped him, apology tumbling from your lips and you can only really say it’s because of how shocked you are by the force you used, “I’m so sorry, oh my God, that sounded really bad… did that hurt?”
He’s stoic for a moment before cracking a smile and chuckling at your shocked apology, “Not quite the reaction I was looking for.”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you…” you trail off, suddenly regretting all your apologies, “Hey! You’re the one who should be apologising to me.”
He’s still far too amused for your liking, “What for? You’re the one who hit me.”
“You quite frankly deserved it,” your brows furrow as you eye him over, you expected something more… ghoulish but he appears to just be some man.
“I don’t think so, I’ve done nothing to you…” he’s talking but you’re not really paying attention, confused by his appearance and, honestly, existence.
Your finger moves towards him, poking at his chest, something you think you shouldn’t be able to do. He’s firm, obviously corporeal, it’d surprise you more if you hadn’t just slapped him as hard as you did.
You’re lost in your thoughts as you continue to poke at him. He cuts himself off to grab your wrist, “–What are you doing?”
“Are you just some guy? Are you just some man in my house right now?” You’re beginning to freak out, much more amenable to the idea of a ghost in your house over some stranger, “I have to call the cops…” you try tugging away, quickly growing more fearful.
He’s rolling his eyes at you like you’re overreacting, “Calm down.”
Your eyes are big and round as you look up at him, scared out of your mind as the idea of some man in your house settles in your bones, “No, I think I’m going to keep being scared.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’m not human…” he squints at you, “Anymore.”
Rightly sceptical when you utter back, “I don’t know if I believe you…”
He seems annoyed at your unwillingness to take him at his word, sighing as he turns and walks out of the room… through the wall. You wait a moment for him to come back but he doesn’t, you’re left in the room alone, wondering if that little interaction actually happened or if you’ve finally lost it.
Another moment passes, waiting, just in case he appears again before you resign yourself to the fact that you’re beginning to hallucinate from lack of sleep. Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and walk back to your room, only to be met with the sight of him laying leisurely on your bed.
“I’ve gone insane,” you mumble to yourself, “I’m losing my fucking mind in this house alone.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re sane, from what I’ve seen anyways,” He shrugs, “A little spacey but otherwise.”
His words have you glaring at him, “You ever been told you’re annoying?”
“Not for a long time, no,” his smirk is lopsided.
You approach the foot of your bed, looking at him with your arms crossed, “Right… okay, well, you’re annoying.”
His own arms are supporting his head, clearly very comfortable in your bed, “You’ve only spoken to me for a few minutes, I might grow on you.”
A scowl overtakes your face, “I really doubt it.”
His smile feels condescending, “I think it’s your only option, either you get used to me or you move out because this was my house first, sorry doll.”
“I’m still not fully convinced you’re not just some guy in my house,” how are you meant to tell if you’ve gone insane? Maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.
“I technically am…” he tilts his head at you, “I’m just not alive.”
There are so many questions you have, and you aren’t even sure if you’d believe any of his answers, “If you’re a ghost why can I touch you?”
Stretching out slightly, he groans before answering, “Because I let you, how else would I be moving your shit around?”
“So, you are moving my things around!” You’re pointing at him like some huge mystery has been solved.
He looks at you like it should be obvious at this point that it was him, taking the wind out of your sails with a single look.
Coughing slightly, you cross your arms again, trying to recover from the slight embarrassment you’re currently feeling, “Why are you touching my things and why show yourself now?”
“You yelled at me to show myself,” he rolls his neck, “Thought I’d be polite and give an introduction.”
“Some introduction… you didn’t even give me your name,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on, “You only answered one of my questions.”
A soft sigh leaves him, like this whole conversation is becoming tedious, “I get bored.”
“Really? That’s your answer? I’ve been wondering if I’m crazy or if my house is haunted and even losing sleep over stupid dreams of your stupid face and you’re telling me it’s because you’re bored.”
He purses his lips, like he’s trying to hide a smile, “Pretty much.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” your hands are on your hips, prominent frown plastered on your face, “Get out.”
“I can’t technically leave,” he tries to reason with you.
“I don’t care, I know you can disappear and leave me alone so do that,” you’re so tired and cranky, you just want to go to sleep and pretend this never happened, “I want to sleep, and I want it to be peaceful so leave me alone and get out!”
“So bossy,” he grumbles as he gets up, leaning down into your space as he walks past you, “I like that in a woman.”
You fight the involuntary shiver that wants to run down your spine, beyond pissed off at Casper the annoying ghost. Why did your house have to be haunted? Why couldn’t you live a peaceful and normal life? These are all things you wonder as you crawl into bed, determined to get some sleep tonight.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
In the morning, you think what had happened last night was some obscure dream, and you’d probably go on thinking that way if your ghostly house guest didn’t appear in front of you while you’re in the middle of breakfast.
Your spoon clatters to your bowl with a gasp, “Don’t!” You sigh loudly, “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” He leans back into the chair across from you.
“Don’t just appear,” you grumble to yourself, “Almost thought I had made up all of last night.” So close to having a normal life, you can see it now floating out of your grasp.
“Sorry, doll, I’m very real and I very much live here.”
That earns him a scoff, “You’re a freeloader.”
“Excuse me?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table.
You repeat it for him slower, “You. Are. A. Freeloader.”
“I heard you,” his eye almost twitches.
Leaning back in your chair, you cross your arms, looking away from him and out the window, “Then don’t act like you didn’t.”
“I could kill you,” he threatens.
You don’t feel inclined to take him seriously, “So could my neighbour, you’re not special.” Your gaze is fixed out the window, watching said neighbour walking to collect his mail. When you turn back to your unwanted companion his glare is pointed and very clearly unhappy which only has you rolling your eyes at him, “You’d really kill me because I called you a freeloader?”
A quiet hum leaves him, “I’m considering it.”
“Drama queen,” it’s murmured but you know he heard it, especially if his growing scowl is anything to go off.
“Shouldn’t you be more scared or something?”
Your eyes squint at him, leaning over the table slightly as you provoke, “Oh, I bet you’d love that.”
“I would actually,” he almost sounds exasperated which only has you growing amused.
You decide to try bargaining with him, “Listen, if you’re gonna freeload here the least you can do is stay out of my way.”
“I liked you better last night when you were scared.”
You take a mouthful of your breakfast, pointing at him with your spoon when you reply, “Well, I liked you better a few months ago when it was significantly easier to ignore your presence.”
It’s quiet, no reply coming from him, leaving it up to you to continue the conversation if you want answers, “What do you even want? Because if you really do plan on killing me I’ll tell you now that the next person who lives here will not be as cute as I am.”
He deadpans at your joke, “You’re hilarious.”
“I know,” you flick your head like you’re flipping luxurious hair.
Already seemingly sick of you when he grumbles, “I already regret showing myself to you.”
“Good, this is much more of an ordeal for me you know? Not only do I know ghosts exist now but there is some guy in my house all the time, how am I meant to go on with my daily life?”
“Not really my problem,” he brushes off your concern.
Being honest, you say, “I don’t like you.”
To which he returns with a big grin, “I’ll grow on you.”
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
You wish so badly that he didn’t, but he does, he grows on you. It’s nice coming home to someone, having someone to talk to while you eat or do mundane chores. It’s been a few months now and you thought he would be more of a bother, but you think you might be the one bothering him.
It’s funny how you didn’t realise how lonely you were until you finally had someone to spend time with. Early on he told you his name, Toji, he told you he used to live here, and that he died in the house. He still hasn’t disclosed to you how he died, and you don’t want to intrude by asking so you don’t. He’s still quite young so you imagine it wasn’t by natural causes which only deters you from wanting to probe for any more information from him.
If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d recognise that you’re beginning to crush on a ghost but since that seems like something so far out of the realm of ever possibly happening, you squash down the feelings. And when that doesn’t work, you try avoiding him, which is not exactly a fool proof plan when he’s the ghost haunting your house who doesn’t need to sleep.
For the third weekend in a row, you’re sneaking into your own house late, having been out all night with friends just to avoid spending the whole day with Toji. It’s his fault though! He’s hot and also a huge flirt and he makes your heart race, and none of these thoughts are holy so you decided to just avoid him altogether.
Kicking your shoes off at the door, you sneak through the house and into your room, thinking you’ve successfully changed and gotten into bed without him noticing. Victory short lived when he appears next to you on your bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip suddenly.
You scrabble for a second, not expecting the shift, body falling into his. Sheepishly, you look up at him, hand pressed to his chest trying to give yourself some space to think, not used to this proximity. You purposefully keep your distance from him, and it feels like he purposefully gets in yours.
He’s quick to get to the point, “Where were you?”
“Out with some friends…” Hesitance clear in your answer.
“Again,” It’s a question but it doesn’t really sound like one.
“…Yeah.”
His eyes scan your face intently and it has you shying away from him, “You’re being odd,” he states abruptly.
Immediate response being defensiveness, “Because I’m going out with my friends?”
“No, that’s not it, it’s the frequency, you used to spend most weekends home alone.”
Still, you can’t get used to how he knows these things about you, “Okay we’re just gonna ignore that you know that about me.”
Again, he doesn’t beat around the bush, “Don’t change the topic, you’ve been avoiding me.”
Gaze averting his as you stumble out a small, “That’s not true.”
His eyes meet yours with a pointed look, clearly not believing your half assed lie, “Come on, doll, if I’ve done something to upset you I’d prefer you just say it.”
“You’ve not done anything,” you jump to assure him, not wanting him to feel bad for no reason. “You’re the best ghost anyone could ask to haunt their house.”
Ignoring your attempt at humour he pushes for more, “Then what is it?”
An awkward pause shared between you as you try to think of an excuse, “Uhm… My friends… have just been wanting to see me more is all, it has nothing to do with you…”
“Mhm…” you can tell he doesn’t believe you, but he can’t go much further than this, he was as blunt as he could be and hit a brick wall. “Well, I want to see you more too.”
You roll your eyes gently at that, ignoring the excitement his words illicit, “Toji, we live together.”
Expression sour when he retorts, “It doesn’t feel like it lately.”
It’s cute how he’s almost pouting, it’d be cuter if you didn’t feel completely awful for ghosting him. You still get to see each other throughout the day but you work during the week, and you haven’t been spending much free time with him lately, often opting for going out instead. If avoiding him like this is going to keep making him feel bad you don’t want to keep doing it.
Taking the safe option, you choose to make the time spent together productive, “I’ll be home this weekend… I have a bunch of laundry to do though so it might not be fun.”
His smile is crooked, “Alright… got my eyes on you though, doll,” he means it in a light-hearted way, but you think you’ve actually hurt him.
“Okay…” you wait a moment for him to leave but he doesn’t, you’re still too close to him and he’s not moving. The silence in the room deafening as you can only look at him and wait for his next move.
When he doesn’t say anything, you prompt, “Toji… are you gonna leave?”
“Do you want me to?” His gaze is on your lips, hand reaching to cradle your face and just when you think he might lean in to kiss you, he pecks the top of your head, “Night.” It’s the last thing he says before he disappears into thin air.
Your heart feels like it might explode, beating a mile a minute at how he seemed to almost kiss you. The disappointment that settled in you when he didn’t uncomfortable, were you just reading into things or did he actually want to kiss you.
The covers get pulled up over your head as you grumble to yourself, how the hell are you meant to sleep now… he’s confusing you and it’s so unfair. You’d probably get over your feelings for him if he didn’t also show interest in you like this, he’s giving you hope, and it doesn’t feel good.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
Ever since the night Toji almost kissed you, it’s all you’ve been able to think about, almost operating like a zombie as you go through the motions at home and at work. Every time you saw him it felt like your skin was on fire, like you might spontaneously burst into flames.
This week has been especially trying because it seems like he actually has been watching you closer than usual. Normally he would give you some more space, but it was almost like every time you were in one of the main areas of the house, he was also there. He’s not the type you’d peg for being clingy but then again, you didn’t take your house to be the haunted kind so what do you know.
Getting lost in your thoughts while fiddling with your poor-quality sink isn’t the best course of action, but it doesn’t seem like you’re making any good choices in life right now. While trying to tighten the faucet by hand, it decides to punish you for being absent minded and sprays water all down your front.
Quickly, you rush to stop the water, all kinds of expletives leave you as your hands slip over the metal. When the water finally stops your hands grab the edge of the counter, slumping against it.
A shiver runs down your spine before you hear him speak, “You really should pay more attention to what you’re doing.”
“It’s not my fault, this sink sucks!” If you had slightly less emotional regulation you might stomp your feet about it all.
He laughs at your frowny face, “I always meant to get it replaced.”
Turning to face him, you huff, “This sink is the bane of my existence.”
“It’s not all bad,” his eyes track down your front, “I did get to see you in a wet shirt because of it.”
“You’re unbearable,” you groan.
“And yet you’ve never tried to exorcise me.”
“You know what, that’s a good option to keep in mind, thanks,” you smile sarcastically at him before wandering down the hall, muttering to yourself, “Well… at least it’s laundry day today I guess…”
Toji is hot on your trail, not speaking, just following you around the house as you collect all your laundry. If you had to describe it, you’d probably say he was hovering, like he’s waiting for you to crack and tell him why you’ve been avoiding him.
You would love to talk to him about what’s bothering you but how exactly does one go about telling the hot ghost that you coexist with that you want to jump his bones, there must be a wiki how page for that online somewhere. The absurdity of the situation is almost enough to make you laugh, almost.
“You in there, doll?” Toji’s voice shocks you back down to Earth.
Dropping the shirt you’d been holding for too long into the washer as you reply, “Hmm? Yeah… I’m here, what’s up?”
“You know you’ve always been a little spacey, but it’s been worse lately.” His head tilts at you, like he’s observing your behaviours.
Throwing a glance his way as you refute, “I am not spacey.”
He looks away from you like he’s avoiding engaging with you on that topic any further, “I’m just asking if you’re okay, Something on your mind?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” dragging out the word as you squint at him.
The exasperated tone he uses is not lost on you, “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“Didn’t we establish last week that I haven’t been?” Ignoring his stare as you continue to load the washing machine.
“No, we established that you’re lying about not avoiding me.”
The persistence he displays is almost admirable, “You’re annoying.”
“So are you but less so lately,” response quick on his tongue.
“Maybe I’ve reflected on my previous ways and decided to be a better person.” He scoffs at that, and you turn to face him, looking him in the eyes, “What do you want from me?”
“I just wanna know why you don’t spend time with me anymore,” he leans into your space, grin wide and taunting, “You get scared or something?”
“Of you?” brow quirking at him, “Please,” eye roll following your words.
He sighs at you, backing out of your space, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you shoot back, focusing on your laundry again.
A quick hand snatches the garment you’re holding out of your grasp, his attempt at getting your attention back on him. It works because you’re facing him fully now, “You’re childish.”
“Woah,” he looks at what he’s holding like he’s only just noticed what he had grabbed, “These are cute.”
If the ground could swallow you whole, you wish it would happen now because why is your unwanted roommate holding a pair of your panties while smiling at you like the cat that got the canary.
“Toji,” you warn.
He hums back at you, almost indulgent, “Yes, doll?”
“Give them back.”
Dangling your underwear in between the two of you by a single digit, he considers, “I don’t know… I think I like these; I might keep them.”
The expression on your face incredulous, “And what? Wear them?”
“I’m sure I’ll find some use for them,” suggestion written all over his face in a way you wish you weren’t attracted to.
“Toji.” A second warning.
Again, his reply is the same, “Yes, doll?”
“They’re dirty.”
“Really?” He looks to them, “Want me to check?” Hand bringing them close to his face before you snatch them away.
“Don’t be gross!” You chastise him, chucking the panties into the machine with more force than necessary.
Your skin feels hot from embarrassment, how can he be so shameless? It’s uncomfortably quiet in the laundry room as you silently stew while looking down into the washer.
Toji sounds tentative when he speaks, “Are you mad?”
He’s met with an immediate glare at his stupid question, “Well I’m not happy!” Brows pinched and feeling like your head is about to explode when you struggle to get out, “How– how can you be so… so? So shameless.”
“Being dead doesn’t hurt,” he says casually.
You can’t tell if that’s an attempt at humour or if he’s being serious but if you had to guess you’d say it’s a little of both, “I can’t believe I’ve been crushing on you, you’re so embarrassing. What does that say about me? attracted to a shameless ghost who does nothing but embarrass me.”
Your foot has started tapping against the floor with your frustrations, not even registering the blunder you made about outing your crush on him… you know, the thing you’ve been actively avoiding him over just to keep secret.
It’s not until he’s leaning into your space and asking, “You been crushing on me, doll?” That you realise the mistake you’d made.
“What?” You heard him perfectly fine. Only feigning ignorance in an attempt to think of a convincing cover.
There’s pride oozing from him, his grin growing by the second, “You just said–”
“–No, I didn’t,” there is no way to save this and so you fall back on blatantly lying.
He’s revelling in how flustered you are and it’s making it worse, “No, no, I heard you loud and clear. You’ve been crushing on me.”
Your hands move to either side your head, covering your ears as you try to block out what he’s saying, “I can’t hear you; I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Despite your actions, you can hear him perfectly. So, you hear him crystal clear when he borderline taunts, “You have a crush on the ghost haunting your house!”
You don’t say anything back, only staring at him as you wear all your embarrassment on your face.
His smile lessens, replaced by a kinder one, “Is that why you been avoiding me?”
Slowly turning to face him, you drop your hands and give a small nod, feeling all kinds of uncomfortable right now. The fact his immediate reaction was to be amused and prideful has you confused on just what he’s thinking about, does he only find your feelings funny? Does he not take them seriously? Or maybe you’d been overthinking it… it is just a crush after all.
You feel a little guilty over how your feelings have been making you act. He’s literally stuck with you and you’re making it awkward all because you find him attractive, “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable… but it’s just a crush, I’ll get over it.”
You meant to offer him some kind of relief in saying that, but it doesn’t seem to give him any. A low hum coming from him as he moves in closer. Bending at the waist so he can eye you carefully, getting so close that you avoid his gaze, face hot at his proximity.
“What are you–”
“–You’d just get over me?” He asks. You can’t decipher his intent.
Not able to help the way you fumble over yourself when answering honestly, “I– well… I mean… eventually? Right?”
Almost doubtful when he counters, “And you think I’m just gonna let that happen?”
The way in which he says it takes you aback, eyes meeting his when you utter a succinct, “Stop.”
A singular brow raises at you, “Stop what?”
“Stop flirting with me,” it’s unfair and only serving to confuse you further.
“Why?”
Expression somewhere between a pout and scowl when you grumble, “You are the most exasperating man I have ever had the displeasure of trying to have a conversation with.”
“And yet you have a crush on me,” his eyebrows raise.
Swapping back to denial is your solution, “I just changed my mind; I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”
Still, he flirts, “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”
“Nope,” you pop the word at him, “All my feelings vanished just like that.”
“That’s a damn shame,” he’s smirking as he looks at your lips before flicking back to your eyes. One of his hands reach to cradle the side of your face, mouth hovering overs yours, so close to kissing you but ultimately not moving any more than that.
Your eyes had closed at the way he leaned in but when you don’t feel his lips on yours you open them to see the way he’s looking down his nose at you, smug smile ever present on his stupid face.
“You’re being cruel,” and he his, he knows it too, it’s entirely purposeful on his behalf and you can only take so much.
His thumb brushes your lower lip gently, still so unbearably close when he asks, “How so?”
“Let me go.” You huff at him, “You’re so distracting, go haunt a different part of the house. I need to finish my laundry.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” His words are accompanied by an eyeroll.
“Why are you so–”
You’re cut off abruptly by his lips colliding with yours, clearly uninterested in further back and forth. Especially since it seems like you’re not willing to give up and just tell him you want him to kiss you. When you’re not immediately pulling away, he’s moving his body closer to yours, other hand large on your back as he pulls you towards him.
Lips so much more careful than you would’ve expected of him. Searching and relentless but not rough, not yet anyways. Your hands move to his shoulders and grip him, giving into him completely, his kiss taking your breath away.
The hand on the side of your face is manoeuvring you how he likes, wanting to deepen the kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, it sends shivers down your spine, involuntary moan leaving you.
You aren’t really registering it but he’s walking you back, sandwiching you between the washing machine and his large body. Hand previously on the small of your back now on your hip, pulling at your flesh. Then slipping it under your shirt and resting against your skin, his touch eliciting goose bumps.
He tilts your head back and trails his lips down your neck, nipping at you as he goes. Your pants filling the room, small and quiet moans mixed in with your breaths. You can hardly think, too focused on how it feels to have him touching you.
Suddenly gasping a moan when he bites at your neck a little harder than you were expecting, your thighs rubbing together at it. His movements grow more frenzied, lips back on yours in full force, tongue in your mouth depriving you of your air.
So much so that you have to push him back by his shoulders, chest moving rapidly as you catch your breath. Eyes wet and glassy when you look up at him, brows pulled up as you struggle to focus in on his face.
“Sorry, I got a bit carried away,” he’s staring at you, awestruck by the stupid look on your face.
You ignore his apology, “Kiss me again? Please?”
“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The answer is he couldn’t, not when your eyes are all glassy from his lips.
The kiss is messy and despite the coolness of him, hot. Your arms are wrapped around his neck now, pulling him down into you. Both his hands on your hips, playing with the waistband of your pants, fingers tickling against your skin.
Parting to speak against your ear, “You gonna let me touch you, doll?”
Nodding at him, “Yeah…”
He hums at you thoughtfully, “You crushing on me again or am I imagining the hearts in your eyes right now?”
“You ruin everything– ah–” words interrupted by his hand slipping into the front of your pants and underwear.
His fingers slip through your folds, tracing your clit softly, “Am I still ruining everything?”
“Oh!– noo, no you’re not,” your words are breathless as you shake your head, not wanting him to stop.
“You know…” his grin is sly as he speaks to you lowly, “You’re awfully wet for someone you don’t have a crush on.”
Wanting him to stop talking, you turn your head and kiss him. Your tongue sliding into his mouth, the kiss desperate and chaotic. Lips connected by a string of saliva when you pull back.
Your words are saturated in sarcasm but completely true, “I have a big fat crush on you, Toji, are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” he smiles brightly, finger probing at your entrance, “In fact, I might just reward you.” As he finishes his sentence, his digit is pushing into you, biting his lip at how you gasp against him. “You know, you’re really cute like this, all breathless and struggling to take a finger.”
“Such a mean ghost,” you sulk.
“You’re meaner, avoiding me all because of a stupid crush,” his finger crooks inside you, almost knocking you over, “If you’d just told me about it we could’ve had fun so much sooner, you been depriving me of this sweet cunt.”
Your legs are feeling shaky under you, “How was I supposed to– hah– know?”
“I flirt with you relentlessly and follow you around all day like a damn puppy and you think I don’t wanna fuck you?” He chuckles humourlessly, “Shit, doll, if you needed it to be more obvious all you had to do was tell me.” A second finger joins his first, scissoring them to open you up, “I’d drop to my knees just to please you.”
His words make you dizzy, the idea of him on his knees and lapping at your pussy damn near capable of killing you. Your stomach flutters with butterflies at how willing he is to make you feel good.
He can feel the way your cunt clenches down on his fingers, his chest squeezing with how reactive you are to him, “Oh? You liked that, doll? Like the idea of me licking your pussy?”
“I need you, please,” your lip quivers, shudders running through your body at how his thumb rubs over your clit.
A single peck is pressed to your wobbly lower lip, “You already got me.”
“Noo– oh God–” You’re trying so hard to get your words out but he’s touching you so insistently, his fingers reaching all the perfect spots so effortlessly you might go blind. Your head rolls back as you gasp out, nails clawing down the front of his chest.
Slurred words and jumbled moans leaving you as his hand speeds up. It’s an active effort to get out, “Wan– want your– ah! dick, please.”
He laughs like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, “Only ever need to ask.” His hand is drawing back from your core, a pathetic whimper leaving you at the loss. “Turn around for me, doll.”
You do as he says, turning around to face the washing machine, one of his hands reaching forward to shut the lid. His body moves in close behind you, his front pressing into your back, firm erection against your ass.
His lips brush against your ear, “Hold on and bend over.”
“You’re so demanding,” you mutter as you do what he says.
He counters, “And you’re so obeying.” You can feel the air of his smugness radiating from behind you.
Both his hands tug at your pants, slowly pulling them down your body until they drop onto the floor. You can’t help but feel exposed and impatient, your panties stuck to your core with the arousal that drips from you. Toji’s finger creeps into the gusset, pulling them back before letting go, teasing you for his own enjoyment.
Straightening up, you try to turn to face him and tell him off for being a massive tease but he’s too close to you. An arm is wrapping around your front as his head tucks into your neck, “You going somewhere?”
“I thought since you seem to be indecisive I’d leave while you think about your next move,” you bite back.
He’s pushing your front back down, “You always this impatient?”
“You always this big a tease?” Your hands reach out to hold the machine again.
“Always got something to say don’t you?”
“Toji, I’m so wet and needy and if you don’t do something soon I’m going to finish without you and I’ll make you watch.”
Quietly and under his breath, he utters, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Before you get a chance to spin around and question him on that further, he’s pulled his pants down and your panties to the side. His cock head stretching you open, your fist slams down into the washer as you struggle to accommodate his size. Stuttered gasps and whines leaving you as he presses forward inch by inch. One of your hands has to reach back and rest on his pelvis, stopping him, needing a moment to catch your breath and get used to taking his size.
You pant out to him, “Wh– what did you mean?”
“Fffuck–” he’s struggling to maintain focus when you’re gripping him that tightly, “What?”
You’re trying to control your breathing as you ask again, “What did you mean by ‘wouldn’t be the first time’?”
“Doll, I’ve been in this house since long before you moved in,” he leans down to you, his lips brushing against your ear, “I’ve seen you fucking yourself with your toys.”
Involuntary whimper leaving you, your hips rutting back into him, “You’re such a perv.”
“Oh yeah, the fuckin biggest,” he groans at how your pussy flutters around him, “Loved when you would come home high and dry from a date, your cunt drenching your dildo with just how needy you were, squirming in your bed while fucking yourself.”
You hate how turned on you are at the thought of him watching you masturbate, “Move, please.” Hand moving away, giving him room.
He’s drawing back only to fuck his hips forwards, “Hnnn– and now I get to see how you coat my cock, such a messy fucking thing.”
Toji’s hips falter at how your cunt sucks him in, so greedy and sopping wet that it’s making his head spin. He can’t tell if it’s been too long or if you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever fucked but it’s probably somewhere in between and he can’t be bothered to think too hard about it right now.
“Is it– hah– is it nearly in?” You whine back at him, not sure how much more of him you can fit.
He’s steadily rocking his cock into you, filling you more each time he thrusts forward, “Not– not quite.”
Maybe you should let him take the lead with this but you’re impatient and horny and he’s taking too long and you just want him so deep inside you that you feel him in your guts. So, in your fuzzy brain, you decide it’s a good idea to fuck your hips back as he moves forward. He bottoms out, his pelvis slapping into your ass but you’re left breathless, squirming as you grapple with how full of him you are.
“Oh my God– what– why are you so– hng– why are you big?” Tears spring to the corners of your eyes, feeling so completely overwhelmed. Pussy twitching around him as your legs shake.
He can’t believe you’d done that, letting out a long-drawn-out groan like he’d been gut punched, “Fuck– greedy fucking thing, you couldn’t– hnn– couldn’t wait for it? Was trying to take it easy on you and your tight little hole.”
His cock is jerking violently inside you, so unbelievably turned on. Your cunt snug around his dick nearly has him believing this is his heaven and you’re his own personal angel. He’d take it for truth if the sight of your hole stretched around him weren’t so sinful, your panties tugged to the side and soaked.
His voice is strained when he checks in, “You good, doll?”
“Mhm, yeah I– mmph– I’m good,” you’re giving him the go ahead, punctuating your words with your hips wiggling back into him. It almost knocks him out, seeing the way your ass jiggles.
His hands are gripping your hips tight, holding you still as he draws back. His first thrust ruthless, forcing you forward, brain taking a second to realise that the loud moan reverberating in the room was you.
“You’re gonna be the second death of me,” he says through stifled grunts.
You are completely lacking in any kind of retort to throw back at him, only able to dumbly hum at him so he knows you heard him. The way he’s driving his dick into you has you twitching and scratching at the lid of the washer, almost embarrassed by how drunk on his cock you are.
There are so many thoughts in your head and also none at all, “Toji, it feels so– oh!– feels so good– I can’t–”
“You’re doing so good, taking it all so well,” he sounds wrecked, words breaking off at the end. “Pussy so fucking– ffuck– so creamy– ohhh–”
Toji’s eyes stay locked on how you take him, chest fluttering at how he’s fucked you open. Cock drenched in your slick, dripping down your legs. So relentless in his pursuit that he just knows your ass is gonna hurt tomorrow from the consistent smack! smack! Of his pelvis slapping into you. Not even a question of if his finger marks will be imprinted onto your hips, the memory of him fucking you so well something he’s not going to let you forget.
He finally has you full and squirming under him, he’s not going to let it be a forgettable experience. Determined to fuck you so good that you’re begging him to do it all over again. He already wasn’t going to let you go but especially not now, not when having you feels this fucking divine. The borderline obsession he feels for you growing by the second, fuelled by how pliant you are for him.
All his thoughts are coming a million miles a second, all of them about you and how bad he’s wanted you, how ecstatic he is that he’s finally balls deep inside you. “You’re so perfect, feel so– hnng– feel so perfect–”
“Careful Toji– hah– I might think you like me,” you joke at him.
The smirk he’s wearing can be felt even though you can’t see him, his laugh short, “Oh I fucking looove you, pretty thing. You’re never getting rid of me.”
You don’t know if that confession is one you can take seriously or if he’s just severely pussy drunk but its effect on you doesn’t change, your cunt clamping down around him as your chest stutters. The tears you had been holding back finally slipping down your cheeks, so overwhelmed you’re seeing stars, hell, you might be hearing things.
His hand reaches to your face and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling you back to him, your back arching lewdly for him. His tongue licking at the tears tracking down your face, “Crying over my dick, doll?” His words are laced with a sickening kind of affection for you, “So sweet for me.”
His other hand grabs at the bend of your knee, pulling it up. Despite your shaky hands still resting on the washer, all your weight is basically being supported by him. Your head falls back onto his chest He uses the access to kiss you messily, tongue licking at yours, swallowing down the moans you let out.
Still, his hips drill into you, never letting up for even a second. Obscene squelching sounds of him fucking your gooey cunt filling the room, followed by the sharp slaps of skin hitting skin. Your stomach is pulling taut, getting so fucking close to finishing, vision blurred by all the tears in your waterline.
“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs into your skin, encouraging you, “Let it– fuck!– let it happen.”
“Feels– feels too– ah!– it feels different,” it feels too good, too much, “You need to– need to stop, it doesn’t feel right.”
It sounds like he gets excited, not even a little concerned, “You’re doing so good, doll.”
“It’s not right–”
“–It’s fine,” he tries to offer comfort, “Trust me.”
Your legs shake violently, the build-up of your orgasm foreign and like it might have you passing out. As different as it feels, you trust him and let it happen, let yourself get fucked over the edge and into bliss. Your orgasm rips through you, moans tumbling freely and loudly, your body shaking from the force of it. Temporarily it feels like you lose sight, unseeing but feeling your cold tears against your hot cheeks.
Cunt clenching down, hard, on his dick, coating him completely in your cum. Body twitching with the shocks of your orgasm, head full and spinning. With the amount of blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Only after a few moments have passed are you able to begin barley making out what he’s saying.
“Fffuck– that’s it, look at that,” Toji can’t hide the absolute pleasure in his voice even if he tried to, completely ecstatic at the sight before him.
You’re breathless and limp, letting him hold your lower half up, head lolling against his chest. Able to feel the vibrations of his moans against you, in a way it’s soothing to you.
“Doll, look down,” he prompts, hand guiding you down.
You whine in protest but look down anyways, an absolute mess everywhere. Lower halves drenched after your orgasm. “Oh my–” when he lets go of your cheeks, your head flops back onto his chest, head spinning.
“Hah– squirted everywhere,” he smiles into your skin, “All for me– hnn–”
He’s in love with the fact he’s managed to get you to cum like that without even really trying, his ego getting a boost he surely didn’t need. His own orgasm so close it bites at his skin, his hand gripping your thigh tight, pulling at your flesh. Free hand sliding under your shirt and grabbing at your breast, shamelessly groping you.
Shudders wracking his body as he cums suddenly, almost taken off guard by how quickly it happens. Cock twitching as he dumps his seed deep inside you, taking a moment to breathe before pulling back slowly, watching as his dick leaves you covered in both your orgasms.
Carefully, he places your leg back down on the ground, leaving you to stand on your own only for your legs to wobble and almost give out under you. If Toji hadn’t been right behind you, you would’ve fallen to the floor. He pulls your panties back into place before hoisting you up onto the washing machine, letting you sit while he puts his dick back into his pants.
You watch him move, all dazed and fucked out, pleasantly placated. His eyes meeting yours when he’s fully clothed, a big smile spreading across his face when he sees the mess he’s made of you.
Leaning in towards you, he asks, “Still got that big fat crush on me?”
“Uhm… I don’t know…” you pretend to think about it, like you don’t know if you like him or not.
He gives you a quick and soft kiss, “How about now?”
“I think… maybe,” you smile lazily at him.
His brow raises, “Maybe?”
“Yeah… definitely maybe still have a big fat crush on you,” you nod once, sure.
He’s grinning when he sighs, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you retort.
You’re both playing dumb but you both know you got it bad for each other and Toji is not going to let you get away with avoiding him again. Not after he’s gotten a taste of you.
𝐀/𝐍: this took longer than what i said it would and i'm sorry for that but i also was only planning for this to be a drabble... i have issues ToT anyways !! i hope you enjoyed !! happy almost halloween !!
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of unheavenlyvision
★ ⁝ my works are not to be used for AI under any circumstances
#visionwrites#toji x reader#toji x reader smut#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk smut#toji x you#toji x you smut#toji fushiguro x you smut#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji x you smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut
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a scripture on having a certain pretty gambler as your boyfriend ; aventurine
summary — radiant and gleaming, dating him feels like basking under the golden glow of the sun, with the promise of the serene and starlit night ahead.
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship, fluff, him as your boyfriend basically, there are no spoilers dwww, i never proofread, 1.2k words ; headcanons
note — congratulations to honkai star rail for being the only game to have aventurine!! this is day 2 of writing for this man until i have him.
Aventurine couldn’t abandon the person that he used to be so he carried him in his hands. Always hesitant, afraid, and seemingly detached from everyone he meets—this is why he seems so distant and disconnected from you at first despite being in a relationship with him. Although he lives his whole life gambling, believing that everything happens and the outcomes gained are due to luck, he’s meticulously careful and cautious just to not get too attached to you lest he gets hurt in the end (he has dealt with the sight of people’s backs as they walk away from him multiple times).
It will take time for him to completely warm up and be vulnerable to you. Although there are moments that he lets the facade slip and he lays himself bare, moments where it’s just you and him in the silence, moments where you comfort him after a nightmare that disturbs his sleep; he doesn’t ask for comfort nor assurance often but you always seem to know when he needs it.
Aventurine loves it whenever you gently comb your hand through his hair. Even if he wasn’t vocal about the matter, you’ll know from the way he immediately relaxes under your touch as you rake your fingers through his locks. It just gives him a sense of comfort, finding serenity and affection in such a small act of intimacy; it reminds him of how simple everything could be (oh, how he wishes it was) with just the loving touch of your hands.
He’s not exactly a morning person but would always wake up early, occasionally before you do. It’s either because he has to leave for work early or it just so happens that he woke up just as the sun was rising. If he has to get ready soon, he’ll take a few minutes of his time to admire you as you sleep, to trace the bridge of your nose slowly and carefully so as to not wake you, to draw and follow the outlines of your features with his eyes. But if he has no plans for today, he’ll stay in bed with you and eventually, fall asleep once more. He holds you so close and so tight (but not tight enough to suffocate you) that it’s hard to slip away from his grasp.
You feel a pair of soft lips on your forehead, the kiss lingering for a moment until you flutter your eyes open. “Are you awake now, sleepy?”
“Mmh…” You grumble, your vision adjusts to your surroundings as you blink multiple times. You could see Aventurine getting dressed, putting on his expensive tailored-coat.
“You’re leaving already? Why did you not wake me up?”
“You looked like you were having a nice dream.”
MATCHING PAJAMAS (heck yeah!!). The time when he saw you wearing one of his pajamas, it felt like something had been flipped inside of him and the thought of getting you one for your own that matches his fills each and every corner of his mind. Although all of the matching things you have with him are not just limited to pajamas—it can range from matching jewelry, matching charms, matching clothing, matching glasses, matching everything. God, he goes into a store, sees something that he likes and asks the staff if they have another one but in a different color that you like.
Perhaps you have never noticed (or maybe you have) but he never wears his glasses whenever he’s around you—when there’s only you and him. There was no need to hide anything from you, not when you adore all parts of his being. He melts whenever you compliment him (he’s a sucker for such words of affection) especially when it’s his eyes, loves the way you look at him as if he was everything you wish for.
He’ll often play games with you or initiate a bet but somehow, he has more losses than wins. “You’re cheating!” You’ll say, pointing at him as if you were an attorney from a game that objects to a statement. Aventurine, however, would stare at you in disbelief (though he’s just feigning innocence) and would answer with a raised eyebrow: “How am I the one cheating when you’re winning?” To which you’ll respond with: “That’s because you’re letting me win. You’re not playing fair, Aven.”
SPOILS YOU A LOT and when I say a lot, I mean A LOT. Everything you'll ask for or even just mention in passing, he'll provide. He randomly sends you pockets of money, a notification on your phone lighting up your screen and the text says: You have received 100, 000 credits. You have to get used to it—it’s one of the ways that he shows his affection to you. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer whenever he gives you something either, so, you have to take it or else you’ll have to deal with a sulky man the whole day.
Don’t worry though as he ensures that everything that he buys and gets for you is something you would like—expensive meaningless gifts will always be meaningless, he would rather give you a cheap yet beautiful charm that is of your favorite color or flower than an expensive shiny necklace made out of gold and adorned with diamonds which you’ll never wear because it’s too heavy on your neck or it’s not your preference.
On that note, he also likes seeing you wear the things he bought for you. Maybe it’s obvious, maybe it’s not, but he likes to dress you up, likes to see you put on the clothes he picks for you. Dates where he brings you to a boutique to pick clothes together (for both you and him), dress up, and ask each other if they look good is not so rare between you two. It’s silly but the two of you would end up giggling like children when the other would strike a ridiculous pose to show off what they're wearing (and also, with the intention to make one another laugh); he lives for and craves these moments with you.
Brings you together with him to casinos and lets you watch him while he plays as he regards you as his lucky charm (when he’s actually the one who is lucky here). Whenever he wins a game or a bet, he asks for a kiss from you—he taps on his cheek as an indication of his request but he will not force you if you don’t wish to express such affections in public, rather he’ll ask for something else instead like maybe a smile or ask that you hold his hand. Sometimes, if you’re curious enough, he’ll teach you the fundamentals of the game and what you can do to win. The look of pride on his face says it all as he watches you win and your opponent falls to the floor (you just put someone in debt).
The amount of endearing names that he calls you. If ever you get flustered whenever he calls you with those affectionate endearments, he’ll take the chance to tease you, to repeatedly call you with such names until you throw a pillow or any object at him—he catches it though but will apologize while laughing, saying that he won’t do it again.
You have to be understanding and gentle with him, careful as you tread the light, lest you fall into the dark and see that the tall and strong walls he built around himself is nothing compared to the broken and fragile pieces that are sewn on his skin, and he will leave (out of fear, out of anxiety, out of grief, out of self-hatred). But it’s alright, everything will be, you’ll embrace him even in the abyss and you’ll guide him back to your warmth.
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works
#honkai#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai imagines#honkai x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#star rail#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine#star rail aventurine#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine hsr#aventurine imagines#aventurine x you#hsr x you#hsr fluff#aventurine fluff#azul.writes
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No, you listen to me | James Potter
Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Aftermath of when you ran away from the Yule ball, cinderella style. after the Christmas holidays, both of you return to hogwarts with different objectives. James tries to find out who you are. You try to make sure he never will.
Notes: Not proofread. Mistakes. Once again because people keep forgetting, english is my third language, be kind. Themes of bullying, discrimination, very bad sister relationships. Regulus is like a BROTHER. James tries?
Masterlist Part one. Part three
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Your eyes scanned across the parchment, rereading James’ apology, but all you could really feel was disappointment and anger. What was even the point of trying to prove anyone wrong? You leaned back against the cushions of the armchair and pulled your knees up, wrapping your arms around them to steadily lock them in place. Then you let your head drop.
You pressed your watering eyes into your knee, effectively letting your pajama pants soak up any tears that threatened to fall. You gently rocked yourself back and forth while you tried to clear your mind. You wouldn’t let any of this get to you.
A hand pressed itself to your back, right between your shoulder blades. “Let’s get you out of here,” Regulus spoke up. His tone was hard, but only because of his clenched jaw when he thought back to how you had run off with a betrayed look. The second he realized it was James who was the mystery guy, he had kept a close eye. He knew things wouldn’t end well with those prejudiced twats, and he was right.
You pathetically looked up at him, and Regulus didn’t bother to hide his grimace at the sight of your face.
“Don’t exaggerate you arse,” you mumbled and shoved him light-heartedly.
“Back at you,” Regulus shot back. Then he sighed and motioned for you to scootch over so he could squeeze himself to fit in the armchair with you. “I know you. And I know you know what my brother and his friends are like. Why are you so disappointed?”
You stared at the lit fireplace, lost in thoughts, and eventually shrugged when Regulus nudged you out of your train of thoughts.
“I guess- I really liked the guy on the other side of the paper. And I really hoped that maybe he’d be in there somewhere. And I suppose that for a moment I actually thought James Potter was alright, you know?”
Regulus scrunched his nose in distaste. “Not at all, but go on.”
You shook your head in amusement at him, but let your eyes soften. “I’m sorry Reg,” you whispered.
“What for?”
“Making you listen to me whining about a guy that I know you have personal issues with.” You decided not to mention out loud the fact that those personal issues included the way Sirius had left Regulus behind in that household, escaping to live with the Potters and going as far as publicly calling James his true brother. Found family, he had proudly said.
Regulus knew what you were referring to. He smiled bitterly. “Well, brothers are overrated anyways. I’d much rather have a sister,” he said while nudging you again.
You hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know Reg; I’ll have to disagree with you on this one. I’d much rather have a brother than any number of sisters.”
“How convenient for us.”
“Very convenient indeed,” you smiled happily.
Regulus got up suddenly and turned to you with a stretched out hand. You raised an eyebrow at him.
“I meant what I said, you know. Let’s get you out of here. I do recall you promising me tea at your new apartment.” He looked at his pocket watch. “Well, it’s 5 o’clock in the morning, and the first train leaves at 6. What’s the difference between leaving in the evening or right now.”
“You absolute champ.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
You laugh whole-heartedly and stuff the parchment in your transfigurations book. You and Regulus took the first train and left Hogwarts behind for the Christmas holidays. A break would do you good. Godric knows you needed to get James off your mind.
James carefully placed the glass slippers in his suitcase and covered them with a few sweaters just in case. He had caught the elves recklessly throwing suitcases into the storage compartment of the Hogwarts express before. You’d think that the use of magic would come in handy for tasks like this, but no.
“Prongs, I got you this?” Sirius pushed a sheet of bubble wrap into James’ arms. James offered Sirius an appreciative look.
After thoroughly explaining everything, from the moment when he found the parchment, to who you were and why he decided that he wanted to become someone you would approve of, Sirius had pieced the rest together and apologized to James for leaving such a shit impression on his mystery date.
James sheepishly pointed at his own solution. “Should I change it?”
“Well, I mean did you see how the elves throw around with our luggage?”
James mirrored Sirius' grin. This break truly came at a perfect time. After all, James would let you occupy his mind as much as he needed to find out who you were.
Two weeks flew by in a blur. You and Regulus had set up a Christmas tree inside your small apartment and had made a competition out of finding the most impressive gift for each other, with only 10 galleons.
You had found the most gorgeous black quill and enchanted ink set for him and were rather confident until Regulus had somehow shown up with what looked like emerald, antique and gorgeously over the top earrings. You had shot him a look and he had immediately provided a receipt to prove he had played fair.
“I just have great negotiating skills,” he’d said.
You had hummed skeptically in reply but had happily tried them on.
All in all, the holidays were a very welcome break for you. Which is why you were so very reluctant to pack your bags. The door to your room opened and Regulus stood in the entrance, leaning against the door frame.
“Get out,” you groaned in dismay at the interruption. Regulus shot you an unimpressed look.
“Not until I see you pack; we leave in less than an hour.”
You huffed in annoyance and threw a pillow at his head. “I’m not asking you again, Black.” You flopped back down on your bed dramatically in dismay at the prospect of going back to Hogwarts. Regulus elegantly tilted his head and let the pillow fly past him.
“One hour,” he enunciated, before walking off.
You threw another pillow his way and yelled, “Close the door when you leave, you twat!”
With a flick of his wand, your door closed.
Regulus waited for you with a bag in his hand.
“Where’s the rest of it,” you teased as you motioned to the small amount of luggage he held.
Regulus turned red but stuck his chin up. “Left them here for the summer,” he off-handedly replied. You laughed. “Great, so you can help carry this bag then,” you grinned and pushed your smaller bag into his hands while you marched out the door with your heavy luggage, dragged behind you.
When you entered the platform, and were handed the Hogwarts newspaper, you did not expect to find a picture of you and James at the Yule ball on the front page. ‘Who are you, Willow?’
You immediately folded the paper together and looked up in panic at Regulus. He looked around and found different students excitedly chittering to each other, all while pointing at the newspaper.
“That is so romantic,”
“I thought James was with Lily?”
“No, they’re just friends now.”
“I was wondering who he was dancing with.”
“She looks so pretty.”
“If I found out that my date was James Potter, I’d take off that mask immediately.”
“Well, she could just be shy.”
“So true, probably Hufflepuff, don’t you think?
“I really hope he finds her.”
You grimaced at everyone and all you wanted to do was disappear. “Relax, Y/N,” Regulus smoothly pulled you on board the Hogwarts Express. “No one will know it’s you.”
Despite knowing that he was absolutely right, you still faced the floor as you looked for an empty compartment. You didn’t realize that you were passing James, who had just come back from a train meeting with the other prefects. He had picked up on Regulus’ words and frowned. But before he could really stop to consider Regulus’ statement, Peter happily waved at him from the marauders’ compartment. “We’re over here!” he called out. James forgot about what he heard.
Remus held the newspaper up in the air when James finally took a seat. “Really?”
“It was Pad’s idea,” James immediately said.
Peter curiously grabbed the newspaper. “Any results?”
James shrugged. “It’s only the first day,” he tries to convince himself, but he was not very sure about this approach to find you.
“It’s going to work out, trust me,” Sirius said. “When she sees that you’re going to this extent to find her, you’ll definitely woo her for sure,” he claimed.
Remus pulled a face. “I mean, if she ran off cause you two were being pricks, again,” he gave both Sirius and James a sharp look. “And hasn’t answered any of your messages, I don’t think starting a witch-hunt of sorts is the way to find her,” he voiced out his opinion. ”She clearly doesn’t want to be found.”
“What are you calling my methods bad?” Sirius squinted his eyes at Remus in mock offense.
“I’m just saying they wouldn’t exactly woo me,” Remus dryly remarked.
“And yet-“
“Guys,” James interrupted. “I just want to find her and apologize. And ask her for another chance to prove that I’m more than what she saw.”
“Well,” Peter started. He turned red when all eyes were suddenly on him. “She will probably not reveal herself. But she’s still a student here. And she knows who you are. So maybe if you publicly show off kind acts, she’ll see how you can be?”
There was a beat of silence and for a moment, Peter wanted to change into a rat and crawl into a hole to hide. But suddenly he was patted on the back by James. “Peter, you absolute champ!”
James Potter was acting weird, and you knew exactly what he was trying to do. You huffed to yourself as you marched right past him while he held the door open for his friends and you, who trailed in right behind them.
Previously, James would have definitely let the door fall in your face, and you had anticipated so, thus smoothly switching your books to your left arm, putting your right hand in front of you in a bracing manner. And so it happened that you stood there frozen, hand flat against James' chest, because he had turned around fully to hold the door open for you.
You embarrassedly dropped your hand that still lingered against him, and a deep frown settled on your face.
“I’d take ten points from Slytherin for touching a student without their consent, but I suppose I’ll let it slide for today,” he arrogantly said. You wanted to beat him up. But you supposed you could let it slide for today. You scowled at him and fled past him towards your designated seat.
Something tugged inside James’ chest as he watched you turn your back towards him and hurry away. He walked to join the rest of the marauders, a ghost feeling of your palm against his chest.
It hadn’t just been you that he was more civilized with. You noticed when you found him volunteering in the library, putting away books back on the shelves manually. This bothered you, because he tended to specifically linger around the particular section in the back about Egyptian rites, your favorite. You knew he was there to hopefully spot any often-returning students.
You also noticed that less and less students were coming back to the common room, hexed. Aside from snide remarks, you hadn’t encountered much animosity from him anymore either.
Instead, you found yourself on assigned patrol with him, despite the fact that Regulus had kindly offered to jinx his broom during Quidditch practice so you wouldn’t have to.
“So,” James broke the silence. “How was your holiday?”
“Why do you want to know,” you immediately shot back before you could stop yourself. James raised his hands in surrender. “Woah, sorry, L/N, just making conversation here.”
You sighed and forced your shoulders to lose their tension. “It was fine.”
“Fine.” James repeated.
“Fine,” you confirmed.
That was the end of your conversation, in your opinion. James however, seemed to think differently.
“So did you get any nice presents?”
You shot him an annoyed look but ended up answering anyway. “Yes actually, Regulus got me these earrings,” you said, and you tilted your head to show him. James’ eyes lingered on your earrings. They looked good on you. The exaggerated gem made you stand out despite your sober attire.
“What else?”
“What do you mean, what else?”
“Why, did your parents not buy you anything or what?”
You halted mid-step and stared up at James. He noticed that he had said something wrong, and when your sisters came to mind, he hurriedly tried to take his words back. You didn’t let him.
“I don’t go home for the holidays,” you settled on. “I’m not particularly welcome there. My parents are as big of a fan of me, as Alyssa and Marla are.” You laughed bitterly and continued walking. James followed behind you, he didn’t say a word, instead waited for you to continue.
“Well, I’m in Slytherin after all. Which obviously equals being an evil blood supremacist. They wouldn’t want to associate themselves with that, of course,” you sarcastically remarked.
James felt guilt slowly seep in. Your words resonated in his mind and his hands grasped the folded parchment in the pocket of his robes tightly. Those were his exact same words of that night at the Yule ball, and he bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”
You looked up at him, surprise evident in your eyes. “You’re sorry?” You asked him in disbelief.
James nodded. If he couldn’t say it to his mystery girl, at least he could say it to you, he figured.
James watched your eyes light up slightly and for a moment, he was lost in a trance. He snapped out of it when you returned the question. “So how was your holiday?”
He grinned at the olive branch that you were reaching out. “Mine was fine.”
“Fine?”
“Fine,” he teased. You fought the smile that threatened to tug on your lips.
Patrol ended without any incidents to report and when you wrote that down, James peered over your shoulder to catch your circled dot on the ‘i’ of “nothing to report.” A sense of déjà vu dawned on him, but the sheer unconscious refusal to even consider you a possibility kept your secret safe.
When you were in bed that night, you couldn’t help but think about how at ease you had felt for the remainder of the night with James, basking in the familiarity of the person behind the paper.
With every patrol, you two put another step forward in the direction of a friendship of some sorts.
James couldn't deny the fact that with each time, he started to look forward to the next time, almost the same giddy feeling fluttering in his stomach as each time he would unfold his parchment to find new kind words written there.
You and Willow would be friends, James thought, as he looked at you while you were casually explaining Transfiguration to him while you two strolled through the corridors, not without the occasional insult at his 'lack of competence'.
But for now, James enjoyed the privilege of calling you by your first name. A friend of some sorts, he liked to think.
Perhaps he was wrong about Slytherins. Sure, there were some rotten apples, but he supposed there were rotten apples in each house. And you weren't so bad after all.
For the first time in a long time, you enjoyed your days at Hogwarts. Truly enjoyed them. You would send Regulus to the library to get you your favourite books, and would patrol every Thursday with James unless he had Quidditch practice. Then you would patrol with Abrams. You’d come across James, who would nod with a kind smile at you as you two have come to be cautious friends and patrol-partners. You hadn’t really heard anything from your sisters either, which was absolute bliss as well.
But then one day, you were studying Transfiguration by yourself in the library, and you just so happened to need to go to the bathroom. When you returned, you noticed your book was missing and you pulled a sour face before requesting a new one from Professor McGonagall who had looked over her glasses at you.
But that hadn’t been the bad part. No, the bad part was that you had completely forgotten that you had put your enchanted parchment that connected yours to James’ inside that book.
Sirius had victoriously grinned at his funny prank idea. He would change some spells in your book so that you would mess up and become a toad in class. He tossed the book on a table in the common room and a piece of paper slid out.
Sirius had seen the piece of paper before, and his eyes grew as wide as saucers. He jumped up, ran towards his room, and rummaged through James’ nightstand before finding James' parchment under his pillow and wrote something on it. He walked back down the stairs with James’ paper, and he watched in disbelief as a messy ‘hello’ appeared on the paper that your sisters now held. “Merlin,” he breathed out, but your sisters had already stormed out of the room.
You entered the Great Hall and felt everyone staring at you and whispering. Even fellow Slytherin students looked at you in contempt. You gave Regulus a confused look when you walked to the free seat next to him. He quietly slid over the Hogwarts newspaper.
Front page again. ‘Mystery girl uncovered. Not a Willow, but a Hanging Tree.”
You didn’t need to read the rest; you tore your eyes away from the paper. Tears threatened to spill, but you tried to keep a cool front. You turned around to look for James and found him and his friends sitting right behind you.
Whoever thought that putting The Gryffindor table and Slytherin table next to each other should rot in the dungeons, you bitterly thought.
It was your sister who spoke up first. “I can’t believe someone like you would make themselves out to be a victim. ‘Oh no, my sisters bully me,’” she mocked you.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks and got up. She got up as well and you stood eye to eye with each other. “You’re pathetic,” She sneered. “You’re the real mistake here. So go do what you do best- run away.”
You wanted to say something. Anything. But you felt weak and small again. So you turned around and walked away. Whispers continued to fill the room as everyone seemed to have something to say about you.
“How embarrassing.”
“She should be ashamed”
“A Slytherin like her?”
“She definitely wasted James’ time.”
With every comment you heard, you bit harder on the inside of your cheek, and when that last comment dropped, you balled your fists. Why should you be the one to walk away?
You turned around furiously and marched back towards James, who had gotten up to follow you and reached out his hand. You recoiled.
“Y/N, listen-“
“No, you listen to me,” you spat at him. You looked him up and down with a pained look, holding back tears of frustration and while trying to convey as much disgust as you could.
“If you didn’t like what you found out, you could’ve kept it to yourself and thrown the damn paper away. You had no right to publicly try to humiliate me like this. All of your kindness in an attempt to be a good person only shows how wretched you really are when you stop pretending and act cruelly true to yourself.”
James' eyes flashed with hurt and he shook his head, words were stuck in his throat. He wanted to cover his ears; he didn’t want to hear you say this to him. This isn’t what he wanted at all. You were wrong. He didn’t even know it was you until he saw the newspaper this morning.
But you weren’t finished talking yet.
“Has it ever even occurred to any of you,” you looked at the people behind him. You stared your sisters dead in the eye. “That maybe your prejudice and thoughtless assumptions and insults about how awful or evil we Slytherins are, is the very thing that pushes us down that path?”
You turned your attention back to James, who had an unreadable expression on his face now. “Your cruel comments are part of the reason and you, James Potter, are especially cruel.”
Your tone was sharp, face hardened and the entire Great Hall had fallen silent. Not even the professors spoke up. James felt like you had hit him in the face, and you might as well have. He looked down in shame at your words.
You shakily let out your breath and lowered your voice again. This time, you sounded tired. Reality seemed to dawn upon you that everyone in the great hall was listening to you, and you shook your head to yourself, taking a step back. You scoffed softly.
“I suppose you are truly worthy of the Gryffindor name; overly proud and arrogant in the name of bravery with a tendency to prove yourself, disregarding others and their feelings.” Your venomous words cut through James' heart.
James watched you walk away again and everything around him seemed to fade. He was losing you again. How had he not seen this?
Your situation with your sisters. The way you ran away at the Yule ball when he made a crude remark about Slytherins. The sense of déjà vu every time you walked past him, back turned towards him. Your handwriting. The feeling of your hand pressed to his chest just as when you two danced. The way you were great at transfiguration and could have easily transfigured those glass slippers. The way Regulus was the only student to frequently visit your favourite book section in the library. The chills you had sent down his back when you had allowed him to call you by your first name, and in return had called him James.
‘I’m in Slytherin after all. Which obviously equals being an evil blood supremacist.’
‘No one will know it’s you.’
Everyone knows.
Preview if interested
Part three
Taglist:
@k0z3me @magical-spit @bouearis @sprinkled-strawberry-donut @sammy-4103 @imsirius01 @xxrougefangxx @lilianelena39 @bubybubsters @cyphah @handybrownpurse @joeytribbiani18 @letssee2468 @stunkbiggu @unstablefemme @charmingpatronus @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @sadpetalsstuff @hisparentsgallerryy @luvly-writer @starsval @thisisasecretsstuff @theweasleyskettle @thisisasecretsstuff @urmomw4ntsme @krillfromsky @ietss @itsberrydreemurstuff @alexandra-001 @prongsprincessworld @lilsunshine1092 @hawkinsavclub1983 @rinrinslovebot @fluffybunnyu @fearlessmoony @lavenderwisteria @darkenwolfie @gengen64 @grandtheoristpeach @anehkael @lunasolac @targaryenmoony @jasminesacademia @mr-underhills-things
#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x fem!reader#james potter angst#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#young james potter#young james potter x reader#marauder x reader#marauders x reader
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Bottom Yandere slasher x final boy male reader head cannons~! ૮ ོ≧ ⩊ ≦ ོ𑁬
blowjobs, knife play, degrading, large bottom, small top ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
You were out and about camping on a little trip with your friends when he first had seen you, staring and blinking over at you like a frog. Something inside his cold body came back to life like a zombie breathing air once again. He had to have you and he would have you no matter what he had to do or who he had to clear. Taking you in the middle of the night after dealing with your friends, he’d have you dragged back to his cabin and just stare at your sleeping form for hours.
He’d blink over at you blushing under his mask obsessing over your every muscle and your short frame, you woke up screaming shouting any sort of insult just trying to escape only to fail each time with him frowning and locking you back up in his bedroom. “I’m not your fucking pet you big idiot! You can’t keep me!” You’d shout at him angrily but he’d only tilt his head as though he didn’t understand what you were speaking to him but he did understand you were upset by the tone you were using.
The slasher would keep you for months, he’d feed you and cling to you leaving you never alone because he was by your side each and every hour of the day. His arms held you in a bone crushingly tight spooning position in bed leaving you conflicted on how you could fall for a man like him? Maybe you were in live or maybe it was all the stressful hormones combined with the built up Stockholm syndrome that had you all over him by the end of the second month.
The first time you had sex with him was during your most recent escape, you found his knife, you tried to attack him from behind but with his tall stature you failed only having him on top of you pinning you to the ground. not before you shoved the knife against him threatening him going feral in anger. The hard feeling beneath you is what brought your mind to a clearer thinking. He was hard, how could he possibly be hard in a situation like this? You just tried to kill him and make your escape “are you seriously fucking hard right now? You’re a horny gain arent’cha!” You’d mock him feeling a smile creeping on your face.
Not even thirty minutes later you’re completely stripped holding him up on top of you with your hand shakily holding the knife to his thigh only grunting when he lifts himself up and down on your cock “o-oh shit, wasn’t expecting this” the slasher is even more infatuated with you at this point, the size of your cock had him intimidated at first when he seen a proud seven and a half— eight inches when hard cock looking at him for the first time since this was his first sexual encounter, shockingly sex wasn’t common for a crazed serial killer.
After that moment on the kitchen floor of his cabin this man’s silent and cold demeanor shifts into more, you fucked him into being domestic, wanting to make you happy trying to get you to want to willingly stay with him even if it means he had to please you. His face in your balls with his knife thrown to the ground while he attempts to give you a blow job “c’mon you can take a little more right, you’re a big man so shove it a little down that throat” you couldn’t help but be cruel to him with your hand gripping the rubber backing of his mask and forcing his face down on your crotch reminding him that while he kidnapped you, he lacked all his control when you were in the mix.
When you finally come around to the slasher, you’re grueling with him in sex, your arms would wrap around his body jerking your hips harshly between his thighs fucking him like a manic and pulling his mask back making him groan feeling more exposed and vulnerable before you, “are all serial killers preening sluts?” You couldn’t help but just egg him, not when you felt his walls gripping you back every time you spoke them making you a mess burying your face into his chest heaving and moaning on top of him fucking him like you need it.
#sleep-0-deprived#sleep 0 deprived#kinktober x male reader#kinktober 2024#x male reader#x male reader smut#x dom male reader#top male yandere#x switch male reader#yandere cw#slashers x male reader#slasher x male reader#slashers#yandere thoughts#sub yandere x male reader#sub yandere#yandere x male darling#dark content#dark content x male reader#yandere oc#x top reader#yandere x reader#male yandere x male reader#male yandere x reader#yandere male x male reader#mlm yandere#yandere character#yandere obsession#yandere x male reader#yandere x darling
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Do you think you could maybe do the Hashiras with a dying reader? Not like dying in there arms but a reader who's so ill that they can't move and bed ridden, dying?
Remember to take care of yourself!!
Hashira x Reader - how sickening
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader, Shinobu x reader, Mitsuri x reader
content warning: angst, fluff?
Tengen:
"i'm home" he said, still both his swords in hand. he had started immediately coming home after his missions, worried over your safety.
since the doctor told you to stay in bed, he had to help you more now. he didn't mind, he would give you acts of service as long as you live.
however, when he heard sounds coming from the kitchen, he dropped both his swords, rushing towards the room.
you stood in front of the counter, trying to chop vegetables. his eyes widened, knowing that you put a toll on your body. with a swift movement, his hand was on yours as he stood right behind you.
"darling, it's enough." he told you, gently taking the knife out of your hands. he almost felt bad when you looked at him with big deer eyes. "the doctor told you to rest."
"i know, but it doesn't sit right with me. i still feel like i can do things myself. i want to be helpful." you admitted, your head lowering.
"i know, but it's important to rest at times. let's bring you to bed, I can finish this." he answered, nodding at the vegetables. he put an arm around your shoulder, leading you towards the bedroom.
listening to your words, he knew you still wanted to feel helpful - strong, but he saw how weak your body truly was.
he knew that there was a slim chance of survival. he didn't want the time you still had decreasing because you were pushing yourself too much.
Obanai:
you were asleep again. it happened more often since he came visiting you every day. his eyes were looking you over, trying to find anything out of place.
you had more bandages on your arms, probably from all the shots you were receiving. your lips have turned more pale and dark circles were slowly growing under your eyes.
he had come up with a routine when you were asleep upon his arrival, checking your body first and then placing his head on your chest.
he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your heart. the steady beat always managed to calm him down, but it has grown weaker over the past days.
he felt worry consuming the back of his mind, not noticing how your hand moved until it was placed on his head.
"Obanai.. you came to visit again." you mumbled, opening your eyes just a bit, everything else felt too exhausting.
"i promised." he answered, carefully pulling away. he knew it was stupid, but he was worried about putting too much weight on you.
"you can continue, i don't mind.." you tried to encourage him to continue, not wanting him to feel stressed. he declined your offer right away, much rather looking after you.
"i'm fine."
Rengoku:
his eyes were locked on your plate. the two of you have eaten lunch about half an hour ago. when he decided to do the dishes and found your nearly untouched plate, worry began to pool in his gut.
you hadn't eaten properly over the past few weeks, but it had been so much worse since last week. he put the plate down, not feeling like cleaning it right now.
his mind was elsewhere - with you - trying to figure out how to make you feel better.
he had already known what an untreatable disease could do to people. he had watched his mother be bedridden until the moment of her death.
and even though you've told him that you made peace with the fact you were going to die, he had at least wanted to make your days as bearable as possible.
he shook his head, trying to lock the negative thoughts out. times were hard, he needed to show you he was a reliable husband - that he still had hope.
he cleared his throat, trying to look more confident a he wandered to your room. perhaps he could convince you to eat a small treat.
Sanemi:
visiting the hospital was something Sanemi dreaded every day. he would've avoided ever seeing this place, but that meant he wouldn't be able to see you.
entering your room, he found himself swallowing down his sorrows. he did it for you, but it got harder for him with each passing day.
he stood next to your hospital bed, looking down at your face. you nearly looked like last time, but you've grown more pale.
he wondered if you could feel the change - feel anything. if he only knew that his daily visits were helping you grow healthy.
yet there was no indication of your well-being. you had been in a coma for three months now and the doctors didn't believe in your recovery anymore.
"i tried cooking your favourite, when you wake up again, i want to show you." he started, standing next to your bed. he didn't know what to do, so he decided to tell you about his day when he visited.
he knew it wasn't anything interesting, but he hoped you would hear something - anything. he hoped you would wake up and prove the doctors wrong.
Giyuu:
this wasn't fair. his sister. his friend. the people he fought to protect. and now you.
ever since you've grown sick, he has stayed by your side. he knew you couldn't move on your own so he did it for you. it was easy to carry you around, you've grown much lighter in his arms. it worried him, even the inexperienced eye could tell you weren't healthy.
"the sun will set soon." his quiet voice proclaimed, feeling your head move. he sat down on the engawa, keeping you in his arms.
"is this okay?" he asked, trying to ensure you weren't uncomfortable in his hold. he wanted you to feel at ease at all times.
"it's good, don't worry." you mumbled, placing your head against his chest. his hold on you grew tighter, he was glad you put your trust in him.
he swore to protect you, but protecting someone from a demon is different than this. he felt helpless, afraid of losing you.
he didn't know how many sunsets you would be able to see.
Gyomei:
when the first signs of your sickness started occuring and you wished to still indulge in the pleasures of life, he had supported you.
deep down he thought it would maybe make you feel better, treat what was untreatable.
however, it didn't change the number of times you were more tired than usual, passing out in the midst of a conversation or task.
"Gyomei..?" you awoke in your bed, hands slowly rubbing over your eyes. you didn't know why you were here, you had been walking through the meadow a few moments prior.
"your fever has returned." he informed you, placing a wet towel on your forehead. you shuddered at the feeling, sinking deeper into the blankets.
"i didn't notice, i'm sorry." he said, his voice having grown more quiet. he felt guilty, he should've noticed that you had grown more ill again.
"don't apologize. it's nothing we could've seen coming." you answered, a quiet chuckle leaving your lips.
he smiled, yet he couldn't unhear how weak your voice has gotten, how you had to exhaust yourself everytime you answered.
Shinobu:
"are you ready for your daily shot?" she asked you, wanting to make sure you're fine. you nodded, trying to force a smile on your face.
she glanced at your face for a short moment, then proceeded to take the syringe in her hand. you had been staying in the butterfly mansion for a while now, but you still didn't look any better.
the sting of the needle barely hurt and feeling the small amount of liquid entering your arm made a weird sensation spread throughout your body.
you wanted to tell Shinobu, but stopped when you saw her face. the smile she tried to keep up vanished every time she had to give you a shot.
you figured that he was worried about your state, not wanting it to worsen. naturally, you brought your hand on top of hers, her eyes meeting yours.
"it's going to be fine." you told her, a weak smile forming on your face. she smiled back. "i know."
she needed to leave a few moments later, telling you to rest some more. your emotional strength was admirable, but it wouldn't keep you safe this time.
how long would she be able to treat you until she gave up fighting a deadly disease?
Mitsuri:
"[name]!" Mitsuri cheered, rushing towards you after she entered your shared estate. it was the first thing she did since you had been bed-ridden.
"i brought you some sakura mochi! i thought sharing some would lift your mood!" she cheered, placing a huge plate of the sweet treat down next to you.
she smiled happily, though her face dropped when she saw your apologetic look. had she done something wrong again?
"thank you, Mitsuri, but i'm not supposed to eat sweets.." you reminded her. now she really lost her smile, looking at the plate and then back at you.
"i'm so sorry! i just wanted to cheer you up!" she whined, her hands immediately coming up to meet yours. she didn't do this will ill intentions, she had just wanted to make your day brighter.
"it's fine. i appreciate the gesture." you comforted her, gently squeezing her hands. at least that's what you tried, but your strength has drastically reduced, making the action barely noticable.
"sit down and tell me about your day. i've been worried about your mission." you said, watching her slowly sit down. she did as you asked, wanting to make you happy.
and as you two sat there, speaking for hours, she didn't notice how you had pushed the sakura mochi further to her - by the end of your conversation the plate was empty.
#kny#kny x reader#kimetsu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#demon slayer#demon slayer x reader#tengen uzui#tengen x reader#obanai iguro#obanai x reader#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#sanemi shinazugawa#sanemi x reader#giyuu tomioka#giyuu x reader#gyomei himejima#gyomei x reader#demon slayer fluff#demon slayer angst#shinobu kocho#shinobu x reader#mitsuri kanroji#mitsuri x read#kny hashira#hashira x reader#hashira headcanons
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hearts aligned
description: you and your roommate spencer reid have always been there for each other. one night he comes back from work and you two discover a different side to your dynamic.
pairing: roomate!spencer reid x fem!reader
contains: fluff!! mutual pining, typical criminal minds violence, reader is described as having shoulder length hair
song rec: fallen star by the nbhd- "you're in my dna, i can't keep away no matter how hard i try"
w.c: 2.7k
an: *sob* i love him.
it was a mundane tuesday evening, the kind that bled into the fabric of the week seamlessly. the apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator echoing through the hallway. the soft glow of the living room lamp cast a warm, buttery light, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows outside the window. you sat cross-legged on the couch, your nose buried in a well-worn paperback, the plot weaving in and out of your consciousness like a gentle stream.
the sound of the lock turning brought your head up with a jolt, the bookmark slipping from your fingers to land silently on the carpet. spencer reid, your roommate, stepped inside, his eyes weary but a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. his gaze swept the room before settling on you, the surprise in his eyes unmistakable. "you're still up," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to shake the very air.
you closed the book with a soft thud and gave him a warm smile. "yeah, i had some trouble sleeping," you admitted, your voice a little hoarse from the quiet of the night. "do you want some tea?" you offered, already pushing to your feet. his nod was all the encouragement you needed as you padded into the kitchen, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the living room. while the water heated, you listened to the soft thud of his shoes against the floor as he moved towards his room, the jingle of his keys a familiar lullaby.
but when you turned with the steaming mug in hand, you found him hovering in the doorway, watching you. "you know, i can do that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't mind, really." his voice was gentle, a hint of concern lacing his words.
you paused, the ceramic warm against your palms, and studied him for a moment. his tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled from a long day's work, and his hair, normally a neat cap of chocolate waves, was disheveled. "you've had a long day," you said, your voice firm but kind. "just sit." you gestured to the stool at the kitchen island, the one that faced the stove where you were already setting out ingredients for a simple meal. "i'll make us something light."
he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "alright," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a seat. the fabric of his pants whispered against the leather of the stool as he settled in, his eyes never leaving you as you moved with an easy grace around the kitchen. you could feel the weight of his gaze, a warm presence that made your cheeks flush, and your heart stutter in your chest.
you filled a pan with oil, the faint sizzle as it heated up a comforting sound. "so, how was work today?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the sudden thrum of anticipation that had taken root in your veins.
spencer took a sip of his tea, his eyes thoughtful. "it was… interesting," he said, his gaze drifting over the steaming liquid. "but i'd rather not talk about that right now," he added, his voice a low murmur. "do you mind if we talk about something else?"
you nodded, setting aside the knife you were using to chop vegetables. "of course," you said, wiping your hands on a dishtowel. "what do you want to talk about?"
spencer leaned against the counter, his expression pensive. "tell me about your day," he said, his eyes searching yours. "i feel like i never get to hear about it."
you felt a flutter in your stomach. "it was…normal," you said, the words feeling almost rehearsed. "work, errands, the usual."
spencer's gaze remained steady, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes. "anything exciting happen?"
you couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "well, if you consider accidentally matching my socks with my shirt 'exciting,' then yes, it was quite the thriller," you said with a wry smile.
his eyes lit up with amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching. "i see," he said, his voice teasing. "that does sound like a tale for the ages."
you rolled your eyes playfully, the tension in the room easing a notch. "it was definitely a fashion statement," you quipped, tossing a chopped carrot into the pan. the sizzle filled the air, the scent of garlic and onions mingling with the warmth of the kitchen.
spencer set his tea aside, leaning closer. "i'm sure it was," he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "but really, anything interesting happen?"
you met his gaze, a sudden realization dawning. "you know what, spencer?" you said, your voice earnest. "right now, this moment, is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all day." his eyes widened slightly, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. "just being here, with you, talking about nothing in particular… it's nice."
his cheeks colored slightly, and he ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "it is," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't get to do this very often."
you cocked your head to the side, studying him. "what do you mean?"
he shrugged, his eyes darting to the floor. "i spend so much time working, or reading, or… just in my own head," he admitted. "i don't get to just sit and talk with people. not like this."
you felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that was more profound than any conversation you'd had with him before. "i'm always here, you know," you said softly, the words slipping out before you could second guess them. "if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with."
his eyes snapped back up to yours, the surprise in them clear. "i know," he said, his voice a little gruff. "i just… i don't want to burden you."
you set the spatula down, moving closer to him. "you're not a burden, spencer," you said, your voice firm. "you're my roommate. and if you ever need anything, i'm here."
his eyes searched yours, the depth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. "i know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "it's just… i don't want to take advantage."
you reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. "you could never take advantage," you assured him, your thumb stroking a gentle circle against his skin. "we're friends, we're supposed to be here for each other."
spencer's eyes dropped to where your hand rested, the warmth of your touch seeping into his bones. "i know that," he murmured. "but i also know that you have your own life, your own things to deal with."
you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before retreating to the stove, the comforting dance of cooking resuming as if the moment had never happened. "and you're part of my life," you said, your back to him. "so, what's one more thing?"
spencer watched you for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, the way your hair fell in soft waves down to your shoulders. he took a deep breath, the scent of the simmering food filling his nostrils. "what's your favorite memory?" he asked, his voice a little rough.
you glanced over your shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "just one?" you teased, turning back to the stove. "that's a tough one." you stirred the contents of the pan, the spices releasing a symphony of aromas into the air. "but if i had to pick, it would be the first time we moved in together."
spencer's eyes lit up, the memory obviously a good one. "that was… chaotic," he said with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "but also… nice."
you nodded, your smile growing. "i remember being so nervous," you said, the words bringing a warm rush of nostalgia. "i didn't know what to expect, moving in with someone i'd only met only once before."
spencer's gaze grew distant, his mind traveling back to that fateful day. "i was the same," he admitted. "i had this whole speech prepared about how we should respect each other's space and keep things clean, but when i saw you, it all just… disappeared."
you turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. "really?"
he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but you just… you made me feel comfortable. like i could be myself around you."
you felt your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "i felt the same way," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i remember walking in and seeing all these boxes, and thinking 'what have i gotten myself into?'" you laughed, the sound a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. "but then you looked up from your book, and you just… you were so genuine, so welcoming."
spencer's smile grew, his eyes a soft brown in the muted light. "i've never regretted that decision," he said, his voice earnest. "you make this place feel like home."
you blinked, the sudden weight of his words settling in your stomach. "i'm… i'm happy to hear that," you said, your voice a little breathless.
spencer pushed himself off the stool, the sound of it scraping against the tile floor breaking the silence. he took a step closer to you, the warmth of his body radiating like a small sun. "i mean it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're the best roommate i could ever ask for."
you swallowed hard, the heat of the stove behind you seemingly nothing compared to the warmth in front of you. "thank you," you whispered, your hand still clutching the spatula. "you're pretty great too."
his smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "yeah?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
you nodded, feeling your heart race. "yes," you said, turning back to the stove to give yourself a moment to compose. "you're always there when i need you, and you put up with my terrible cooking."
spencer chuckled, moving closer to peer into the pan. "i wouldn't say it's terrible," he said, his eyes twinkling. "just… adventurous."
you shot him a playful glare, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "adventurous, huh?" you said, shaking your head. "i'll take that as a compliment."
spencer stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take the spatula from your grip. "i'll help," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. the air between you felt charged, the tension thick and palpable. your heart was racing, each beat echoing in your ears like the tick of a clock counting down to something you hadn't quite anticipated.
you let him take over, watching as his long, slender fingers deftly stirred the sizzling mixture. "i've been meaning to tell you something," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "i know we've been roommates for a while now, but… i've started to realize that i might like you a little more than just a friend."
you froze, the heat from the stove forgotten. your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of uncertainty or jest, but all you found was sincerity. "spencer," you began, but he held up a hand to stop you.
"i know it's weird," he said, his voice rushing out like a river that had been dammed for too long. "and i know we're friends, and roommates, but… i can't ignore it anymore."
you stared at him, your thoughts racing faster than the cars on the street outside. "spencer," you breathed, his name a question, a declaration, a plea all rolled into one. your hand hovered in the space between you, unsure of where to land.
his eyes searched yours, the warmth of his hand as he took the spatula a silent promise. "i know," he continued, his voice a little shaky. "but i can't help it. every time i come home and you're here, waiting for me, it's like… it's like coming home to a piece of sunshine."
you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the words resonating deep within you. "spencer," you whispered, the name a prayer on your lips. "i… i feel the same way." the words hung in the air, a soft confession that seemed to illuminate the kitchen with a gentle glow.
his eyes searched yours, a hopeful spark lighting them up. "you do?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid to believe.
you nodded, your own heart racing. "yes," you said, your voice clear and firm. "i've liked you for a while now. i just didn't know how to tell you." the admission felt like a weight lifting off your chest, leaving you feeling lighter than air.
spencer's smile grew, a genuine, boyish grin that made your heart flutter. "really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.
you nodded, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. "yes," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. "i just didn't want to mess things up."
spencer set the spatula down, the clatter against the pan a jolting sound in the quiet kitchen. "you could never mess things up," he said, his voice a soft promise. "not with me."
you took a step closer, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a magnet. "are you sure?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.
he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "i've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, his voice a low murmur. "you make me feel… alive, in a way i haven't felt in a long time."
you felt your breath catch in your throat, the confession so raw and honest that it was like a punch to the gut. "spencer," you whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek. your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.
his eyes searched yours, the question in them unspoken but clear. "what are we going to do?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.
you took a deep breath, the scent of the food on the stove forgotten. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i just know that i don't want to ignore this anymore."
spencer reached up, his hand covering yours on his cheek. "neither do i," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. "i don't want to pretend it's not there."
you stepped closer, your hand sliding down to cup his face fully. "then let's not," you said, your voice a little tremulous. "let's see where this goes."
his eyes searched yours for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours tentatively. it was a gentle touch, a question that hung in the air between you, waiting for an answer. you responded with a sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body a comforting embrace that seemed to fit you perfectly.
the world outside the kitchen faded away, the only sounds the faint crackle of the stove and the thud of your hearts beating in sync. the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. your hands tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk.
you two broke apart, breathless, your eyes searching each other's for any sign of doubt or regret. but all you saw was a reflection of your own feelings - a wild, unbridled hope that seemed to set the room alight. spencer's chest rose and fell in time with yours, his eyes dark with want.
"i've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper that sent shivers down your spine.
you nodded, your eyes searching his. "i know," you said, your voice just as soft. "me too."
his thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "are we… are we okay?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.
you nodded, your heart racing. "yes," you breathed, the word a soft promise. "we're more than okay."
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x you#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x self insert
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something something love as worship
CW: MDNI. Explicit sexual content below. Creampie. Squirting. Pussydrunk!Giyuu
Y/N’s release rocked through her and Giyuu swore he’d ascended to heaven.
The moment the warm, slick walls of her heat seized around his length, Giyuu’s own climax exploded. With a strangled yell, he pushed his cock as deep as it could go within her honeyed warmth and erupted, his seed barreling into her hard enough to make stars appear in the corners of his eyes. His body was locked and rigid as he came, Y/N distantly mewling below him as her legs vibrated around his neck, still lost among the waves of her own dizzying high, Giyuu’s hand still working diligently between her legs.
Panting hard, Giyuu canted his hips, nearly seizing at the jolt of electric pleasure that surged down his spine as he worked to prolong his release.
His eyes flew open as he felt a pair of gentle hands seek him out, latching around his hips to pull him in, to hold him in place as he continued to fill her.
What little sense Giyuu had managed to cling onto fell away with a deep groan as he lost himself in the paradise Y/N’s body, his mind fading to white and falling numb to everything that wasn’t her.
Close. The word was barely more than a distant echo in his ears, but it was all he could comprehend in the moment. He wanted her to be close.
He’d not realized his fingers were still twiddling with that nub between Y/N’s legs, even as she cried out, her hands shooting to wrap around his wrist in a fruitless effort to still him, her nails sinking lightly into his skin. But he was far too gone, far too enraptured over his worship in the altar of her body; and so, his fingers kept circling and pressing until the Miko’s legs started jerkily twitching around his shoulders.
Only when he felt rush of fluid coat his groin and lower abdomen did Giyuu’s pleasure-hazy eyes finally open, a contented half-smile on his lips that disappeared as he watched Y/N make an utter mess of them both under his relentless stimulation of his hand.
As Giyuu beheld the way his fiance moaned, tears of pleasure and exhaustion gathering in her eyes, he recalled a particular comment Tengen had made to him earlier, as he’d explained all he would need to do to ensure Y/N’s satisfaction.
If you try hard enough, you might end up soaked by her — that means you’ve done your job!
A small squeak from below him broke Giyuu’s fixation away from the sticky wetness now saturating his groin, calling his attention back to the trembling Shrine Maiden beneath him.
“F-forgive me,” she stuttered, glowing a deep shade of crimson. “I don’t —“
“This was all because of me?” His hand finally withdrew from its place between the Miko’s thighs, moving instead to swipe his fingers through the wetness coating his lower stomach. “I made you feel that good?”
Slowly, Y/N nodded, her eyes wide.
“Incredible,” Giyuu delighted, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.
yes this is in connection with the “I wish to do it again” scene let him live
#he almost died and now gets to be with the love of his life let him have as much 🐱 as he wants#giyuu tomioka#kny x reader#giyuu x reader#kny fanfic#demon slayer fanfic
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Hi, I absolutely love your writing and i’d thought i’d try to request a remus lupin x reader kinda hurt comfort fic or blurb? Reader comes from a dysfunctional family where her dads alway angry and she feels like she’s walking on egg shells when around him and her mom throws all responsibilities like taking care of younger sibling onto reader so they always feel like they aren’t doing enough and they kind of cary these traits into their relationship with remus? maybe remus comes home from a hard day at work and reader can immediately sense he’s in a bad mood and like gets really quiet and starts working on the house instead of spending time with him bc she thinks he will be mad or something
This was way longer than i intended it to be im sorry😭 and I totally understand if this was too much or a topic that you don’t wanna write about there is no pressure at all!!!
love ya! -anon
Thanks for requesting lovely!
cw: implied past harmful/abusive dynamics
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 849 words
If the sharp turn of his key in the lock didn’t tip you off to Remus’ mood, the way he shuts the door behind him would. Automatically, your mind starts whirring with the things you can do.
Your boyfriend has barely taken his shoes off before you’re in the kitchen, unloading the overfull dish rack. You’ve no idea how you let it go this long; some of these things have been dry for days. You’re shutting drawers and cabinets as softly as you can, wary of worsening Remus’ irritation with a racket.
“Hey.” He pads into the kitchen, reaching for you.
“Hi.” You smile and give him a kiss. His hands start to come around your waist, but you pull away in favor of grabbing a pot from the rack.
“What’re you up to?” he asks. The exhaustion in his voice has a terse edge that makes your fingertips crackle with nervous energy.
“Just tidying a bit.”
“Want some help?”
“I’m good, thanks,” you reply in your most serene voice. “You’ve only just got home, why don’t you relax?”
Remus hesitates a handful of moments, watching as you go back to whizzing about the kitchen before wordlessly retreating to the living room.
Once the dish rack is empty, you decide to start filling it up again. There’s an unwashed pot on the stove, an old container of leftovers in the fridge, and a handful of dishes on the coffee table. You make yourself as scarce as you can when you go to retrieve the last. Remus is still emanating traces of a worn-thin temper from where he sits on the couch, reading his book, and you try to minimize the clatter of the dishes as you stack them. When there’s a sigh, you try even harder.
“Would you stop for a second?”
You freeze in your tracks. “Stop what?”
“Just,” he shakes his head, frustrated, “put the dishes down.”
You obey wordlessly.
Remus looks at you with something you can’t decipher in his expression. “Now would you come here, please?”
You walk over to him, tensing for—you don’t know what. You don’t think Remus would hit you, and he doesn’t seem like he’s going to shout. You’re stiff with anticipation nonetheless.
He reaches for you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slotting against him naturally, the way you always do. Remus presses both palms into your back, hugging you tighter than usual but not enough to hurt.
He nuzzles his face into your neck. “What’s going on with you?” he asks, and he sounds like the soft, grumbly version of himself that tells you to stop fidgeting at 4 a.m. before trapping you in his hold. You start to relax.
“You seem like you’ve had a hard day,” you say. Not quite an admittance, but close.
“I have,” Remus agrees. “I was hoping to come home and relax with you. Maybe have a kiss if you were feeling generous.” His teasing comforts you further, and you don’t flinch when he adjusts his hold so he can look you in the eyes. “Are you being weird because you know I’m in a bad mood?”
When he puts it like that it sounds so silly. This is how you’ve learned to be around hot tempers, quiet and useful, but of course Remus would want someone to console him. To be with him instead of hiding away.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe out. Your hands smooth over his shoulders, a belated comfort.
He sighs, and this time when you hear the frustration in the sound you know it’s not meant for you. Remus takes your face in both hands, pressing a firm kiss to your brow before resting his own against it.
“Nobody’s angry with you,” he says softly.
“I know,” you reply just as quietly. “If I think about it, I know you wouldn’t be. It’s just…”
“Old habits die hard?” he guesses. There’s a wry twist to his tone.
You hum apologetically.
Remus lets his cheek slide along yours, pulling you in for another hug. This one is gentler, his hand running the length of your back and squeezing in all the right places. “It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I’m sorry I came home so cross, sweetheart. I never want to worry you.”
“I like to worry about you a little,” you tease, and you can sense the reward of your boyfriend’s smile spreading unwillingly over your shoulder. “And it’s not fair to expect you not to have any bad feelings around me. That’s just normal.”
Remus hums thoughtfully. “What if we try this: when you’re feeling like I’m upset, you just say something and we’ll talk about whether it has anything to do with you. Do you think that would work for you?”
You turn your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder. Remus’ palm cruises down the curve of your spine as you let out a breath. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks.”
“Thank you, lovely.” He tucks his chin to skim a kiss over your temple. “This is just what I needed. I feel better already.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin hurt/comfort#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin one shot#remus lupin oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#the marauders#marauders fandom#hp marauders#marauders era#marauders x reader
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Thinking about werewolf König. Maybe you're new to town, and he's just like, yep, that one's mine.
WereWolf!König x New!Girl
MDNI🔞
Part 2
Master List✍🏽
>cw:fem/afab, werewolf, forceful, oral, p in v, knotty
1.9k word count
🐺
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König has lived in the same town for the last twenty years. He knows everyone by name and smell, blending in seamlessly, he appears as if he is like any other human. Living in such a small town has made it easier to hide away from others. However, today when one his weekly grocery run to the local store; a sweet smell lingers in the air.
He swallows hard and tries to act casual as his eye darts everywhere trying to pinpoint the new smell. As he enters the store, the smell seems to only grow stronger, nearly making a growl slip from his chest. That’s when his pale blue eyes lock on to you; a bright smiling face standing behind the cash register. It takes everything in him to control his primal side that is crying out to just take you now.
König averts his gaze and just continues to shop as he normally would. No matter how hard he may try, he cannot escape your smell that fills his nostrils. You’re already consuming him completely and he doesn’t even know your name. Once his things are gathered, he approaches the register, feeling as if he’s stalking prey.
“König!” The voice of the store owner interrupts his thoughts.
“Hey, Frank.” König tries his best to maintain a calm demeanor with you so close.
“It’s good to see you!” Frank holds his hand out to shake with König. He looks over his shoulder to you at the counter. “The new cashier is my wife’s niece. She’s new so be nice.” He nudges König playfully.”
König smiles and nods while his eyes shift back to you. You’re not paying attention to them as you help the next customer in line. The way you move is hypnotic, making it difficult for him to even remain in this conversation.
“Don’t worry about me, Frank. I’ll be nice.” So nice.
Frank chuckles and nods, “Well, I have to go help unload a truck. It was good to see you.”
König nods and watches Frank walk away before turning his gaze back to you. He stands in line behind a mother and child. The closer he gets the more intoxicating it all is. All he can envision is having you under him as he buries his face into your neck, claiming you as his mate.
“Hello!” You greet him as he walks up in line, placing his items down for you to scan.
“Hallo, I’m König. I’m friends with your uncle.”
“Oh! It’s nice to meet you. I’m y/n.” You smile at him, noticing how intense his blue eyes seem to be.
“Beautiful name. How long are you staying?”
“Oh, I don’t know yet. Maybe until the new year?”
That’s not enough. The holidays are only a few months away, he couldn’t possibly find and lose his mate in only a matter of a few months. Instantly, his mind begins to speed run ideas on how to get you to stay here, stay with him.
“Well, it is a lovely area. Hopefully you fall in love.” König smiles at you, allowing his eyes to drift down to your body in that apron wrapped tightly around your curvy form. “Are you staying with Frank?”
“Yeah, I am. I couldn’t find anything to rent, only buy.”
“Ja, there isn’t much real estate around here.” He chuckles as he watches you bag his items.
König reaches into his pocket and grabs his wallet, getting cash out and handing it to you. Your much smaller cold hands caress his rough warm hands. The way you feel so impossibly soft only tempts him even more. There is no way he can let you go, you’re his.
“It was nice to meet you, y/n. I hope to see you around.”
“Thanks.” You say back in a cheery tone, fidgeting with your hair slightly as you lock eyes with him.
As König turns to walk out of the store he takes one more deep breath, wishing to savor this scent forever. With a sting in his heart, he walks away from you and leaves back to his car. For a moment he lingers, deciding what to do before pulling away and driving home.
The rest of your shift goes on as normal, nothing really eventful happening. It’s your second day on the job and everyone that you’ve met has been extremely kind. Your uncle Frank leaves you to close up by yourself, he knows that you’re responsible enough to handle that. By the time the store closes the sun has set.
You grab your bag from the locker in the back before leaving with the store key in hand. As you leave, you lock the door and turn to walk towards your car. Your eyes are drawn to the clear night sky. The moon is bright and illuminating the sky as the stars shimmer brightly; it’s such a beautiful calm night. Then you hear a twig snap.
You freeze, looking out into the darkness towards the trees. Being a city dweller, the darkness can be incredibly intimidating to you. Uncle Frank promised you that any deadly animal has been hunted out by previous generations, so if anything, it’s probably a raccoon. Right?
Not wanting to stick around to find out, you walk forward quickly with your car key in your hands and ready to get in. The second you turn the corner of the small building your eyes lock onto glowing yellow eyes. You freeze as your mind attempts to make sense of what it’s seeing. A low growl emanates from the creature triggering your fight or flight.
Quick on your feet, you run forward towards your car. That’s when the creature took off too, directing itself right at you. A scream leaves you as adrenaline crashes over your body, unable to remain calm.
König can’t help himself as he charges at you. His claws grab onto the fabric of your purse as you open your door. He throws you off balance, causing you to fall into your passenger seat on your knees. Another low growl leaves him as he wraps his hands around your waist holding you there.
You flail and scream at first until you realize that you aren’t being attacked. Not only that, but the hands are hands not paws. Is this a wolf? Or a sick joke?
“Please don’t hurt me.” You whisper, hoping whatever it is will understand.
König understands, and he isn’t going to. Not intentionally at least. He presses his cold snout into the crook of your neck and takes a deep inhale, letting his tongue slip out and lick your soft flesh. The smell of arousal hits his nose; you’re actually enjoying this.
He pulls back and begins to pull at your pants, not caring that his sharp claws tear and rip the fabric as he does so. There is only one thing on his mind and he needs it. Only surprised and panicked sounds leave you, yet you aren’t doing much to stop him. He wonders if you know that you belong to him, if you can feel it too.
You feel the night's cold air breeze across your bare bottom as he tears your bottoms off completely. Looking over your shoulder you finally get a good look at the creature. The realization makes you feel as if you’re going to faint, this can’t truly be happening. This man…wolf? The word werewolf of course comes to mind but that just seems too ridiculous.
König sniffs down your body, leaving chills in his wake as his cold nose presses against different parts of your body. He pushes you forward and he drops his face lower towards your supple ass and wet pussy. Eagerly, he presses his nose between your legs. You let out a loud gasp as he continues to breathe you in deeply. His tongue comes out and laps across your core, tasting you.
Your fingers dig into the cushion of your passenger seat as your legs shake from the feeling of his tongue. His hands grab on to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart to give himself more room. You can feel his tongue slip into your entrance and wiggle around as your eyes close tightly. It feels wrong, but you can’t help but to give into how amazing it is.
When he pulls back there is a small line of spit connecting the tip of his tongue to you still. He goes back in for a few more tastes before mounting you. His hands press on your middle back, forcing you to arch your back more as his massive and erect cock desperately seeks your cunt.
Once König feels himself lineup, he thrust forward into you. A low huff leaves him as he feels his cock bully itself past your tight walls. You wrap around him so perfectly that he can’t control himself. He pulls back and slams into you even harder this time, causing you to wince in pain from his 13 inch cock rams into your cervix wall. While he is aware you can’t take him, he sure as hell is going to try and fit himself in fully.
You cry out of a mixture of pain and ecstasy as his heavy furry balls slap against your puffy pussy. The sensation is almost too much causing your body to tense and tingles shoot in different directions. Pathetic little mewls leave you with every thrust. Not wanting to give into this pleasure, you try to pull yourself up only for him to slam you back against the seat.
“Stay.” König growls in a raspy voice.
Your walls flutter in an attempt to adjust to his size, but it’s impossible when he doesn’t allow you a moment of rest. His sharp claws begin to dig into your skin as he grows more eager to claim you. His build up is approaching as his knot swells.
The heavy weight of his body rests on yours and you can feel his cold nose brush up against your neck. One of his clawed hands pulls your head to the side to allow himself room to bite down on the sensitive flesh. You gasp, not expecting the feeling of his sharp canines sinking into you. König goes deep enough to leave a scar and so that you can’t try to move away from what is going to come next.
König thrust into you a few more times before holding on to your hips harder than before, not letting up the tension from his hips. His cock is shoved fully in you, making you lose your arch from the pain of being filled. You wiggle uncomfortably for a moment before you feel yourself almost tear. One of your legs kicks out as you clench down tightly on the new feeling. König moans, feeling you actually take all of him. His cock begins to throb, spilling all of his seed deep inside of you.
“It- it's too much!” You cry out but your pleas are useless, he can’t pull out. The pain from his teeth in your neck is basically nonexistent at this point. It feels like losing your virginity all over again.
König only hums in response and grinds into your once more. You respond by whimpering, getting your hint to just try to relax and take it. Tears form at the edge of your eyes and fall down. The sex was orgasmic, but this pain is absolutely terrible.
The next morning you wake up in your own bed, confused. The last thing you remember from last time was…well the sex. Was it truly all a dream? How did you even make it home? You pull the blankets off of yourself and move your legs to stand. That's when a shooting pain travels from your crotch traveling down your legs.
Fuck…
Part 2
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