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aresrambles · 3 months ago

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Mission Complete

logan howlett x fem!reader - in which you and the wolverine shack up in a shitty hotel after a mission. nsfw, afab terms, there's only one bed, 18+reader (always), “kid”, pining!logan, pining!reader (3911 words)

a/n: just one night with this man... just one fucking night. also yes, first wolvie post but defo not the last.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Logan pauses in the doorway, his gaze lingering on the double bed crammed into the corner of your shared hotel room. He steps inside, trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes dart around, searching for an alternative—a sofa, a chair, hell, even a futon. Nothing. He sighs heavily, dropping his bag with a thud, his mind racing through the options. Sharing a bed with you? That’s out of the damn question. He could sleep on the floor, or better yet, maybe there’s another room available. Spending the night with you would be some sick kind of torture; he can’t restrain himself that long.

If you notice his hesitation, you don’t show it. You slip past him with a casual brush of the shoulder, making a beeline for the bathroom. “Dibs on the shower!” you call out, rummaging through your backpack for what he figures must be a change of clothes. Logan grunts in response.

“This mission wasn’t even that bad,” you continue, your voice muffled as you dig deeper into your bag. “We’re leaving early tomorrow, so you should probably shower tonight too. Don’t need you slowing us down in the morning, old man.”

Logan doesn’t dignify your jab with a response. Instead, he turns on his heel and heads back out, letting the door click shut behind him. He’s got a better chance of dealing with the front desk than with sharing that bed. He fishes out a cigar, biting down on it as he stalks down the stairs, striking a match as he goes. The no-smoking signs? They might as well be invisible to him. If they didn’t notice him before, they’d sure as hell notice the smoke.

When he reaches the lobby, it’s empty. Logan rings the bell—once, twice.

“Hello?”

Silence. He rings the bell again, harder this time.

“Hello? Anybody here? I was just—oh, for fuck’s sake.”

His eyes land on a neat little sign perched on the desk: ‘Front desk will be available again from 7:30 a.m. tomorrow.’

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, he thinks, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke in frustration. What if there’s an emergency? What are people supposed to do, wait until morning?

Logan growls under his breath, stubbing out the cigar on the polished wood of the counter, leaving a smoldering mark as a parting gift. He storms back up the stairs, mentally preparing himself for a night on the hard floor. It could be worse, he muses, but only just.

Logan swings open the door to a piercing shriek, slamming it shut almost as quickly as he’d opened it, his hand still gripping the doorknob with a trembling force. Okay, it could definitely be worse, he thinks, his mind spinning.

Inside, you scramble to cover yourself, your heart racing as you realize what just happened. “Seriously? Do you not knock?” you shout, your voice laced with a mix of panic and humiliation. Your face burns as you try to process the situation, the mortification almost too much to bear. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, hurriedly yanking on the oversized t-shirt you had planned to sleep in, your hands fumbling in haste.

“Why didn’t you change in the bathroom?” Logan shoots back, voice gruff, trying to mask his own flustered state. He grinds out his cigar underfoot, his mind replaying the moment he just witnessed, over and over. His ears burn hot, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t shake the image of you—shirt halfway over your head, bare and vulnerable, your skin still glistening from the shower. Fuck. He looks down, his jeans now uncomfortably tight, the ache in his groin a harsh reminder of why sharing a bed with you is a terrible idea. He can barely keep himself together when you’re fully dressed, let alone in a state like that.

You take a moment to steady your breathing, trying to push the embarrassment down. “You can… you can come in now,” you stammer, your back turned to the door as you pretend to be engrossed in your phone, anything to avoid facing him.

Logan doesn’t reply. He pushes the door open and slips inside, his movements quick and stiff as he heads straight for the bathroom, needing to put some distance between you both. The door closes behind him, and you let out a groan, burying your face in your hands. This moment was going to haunt you for a very long time.

So, you had a little crush on Logan. No big deal—just a harmless, schoolgirl crush. At least, that’s what you told yourself. But you couldn’t deny that you and Logan made a damn good team. So good, in fact, that the Professor had been pairing you two up for missions more often than not lately. And that silly, schoolgirl crush? It had started to grow into something much harder to ignore.

Your stomach churns as you roll over onto the bed, face buried in the pillows. It’s hard to admit, but part of you got a little turned on by what just happened. The searing embarrassment of having your body on display like that for the man who’d starred in so many of your late-night fantasies… It was almost too much to handle. You sigh deeply, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks again.

But then reality sets in. Logan didn’t feel the same way—how could he? The way he bolted for the bathroom was proof enough. Why would someone like him ever be interested in you? You’ve heard the stories about Logan’s past flames, women who were nothing short of extraordinary. And here you are, just another teammate, a brief moment of awkwardness quickly forgotten.

You try to push the thoughts away, deciding it’s best to just turn in for the night. There’ll be plenty of time to torture yourself with these thoughts later. For now, sleep is the only escape from the swirling mess in your head.

It was true—Logan couldn’t get away fast enough, but not for the reasons you thought. As he stood under the scorching spray of the shower, letting the steaming water cascade over his body, his eyes remained fixed on the tiles beneath his feet. His regenerative abilities could heal wounds and stitch him back together, but they never quite banished the constant ache that clung to his bones, a dull throb that even the hot water could only barely soothe. But the ache in his abdomen? That was something else entirely.

Logan couldn’t shake the image burned into his mind, the sight of you, bare and beautiful, just moments ago. He gritted his teeth, his thoughts straying where they shouldn’t. How would those perfect tits look under the water with him, droplets sliding down your skin while he took you against the shower wall? Would you mewl softly, or would you gasp, nails digging into his back? Would you cling to him, or would your legs give out, collapsing into his arms?

He let out a rough grunt, twisting the shower knob to ice-cold in an attempt to snap himself out of it. The icy blast hit him hard, but he welcomed it, hoping it might douse the fire in his veins. He could touch himself—hell, the thought crossed his mind more than once—but not with you just outside, not when you were so close. It felt wrong, too damn wrong.

The cold water eventually worked its magic, easing the unbearable tension that had built up inside him, but it took nearly an hour to do so. Finally, with a heavy sigh, Logan stepped out of the shower, drying off and pulling on a pair of sweatpants. As he looked at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, he knew one thing for certain: this was going to be a long, restless night.

Logan steps out of the bathroom to find you huddled on the floor, passed out in a tangled mess of blankets. He rolls his eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he carefully scoops you up and lays you down on the bed.

“I don’t need th’ bed,” you mumble, your voice so soft he almost misses it. He huffs through his nose, a fond smile creeping onto his face. “Where else you gonna sleep?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. You blink sleepily, trying to focus as the darkness settles around you, the only sound the gentle rustling of sheets as he adjusts you on the bed.

“Sorry about earlier,” he adds, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

You don’t reply, too embarrassed to form words. Instead, you turn your face away, hoping he won’t notice the flush of heat creeping up your cheeks. But in the stillness of the night, it feels like every little movement, every breath, is amplified.

“I don’t want you to sleep on the floor,” you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s space for both of us.” The words hang in the air, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of how close Logan is to you. You can almost feel the warmth of his breath against your face, the proximity making your heart race. But then, just as suddenly, he shifts away, the moment passing like a whisper in the dark.

It’s silent for some time, like he’s thinking. You almost speak up again but he beats you to it, just as you part your lips.

“Scoot up, kid,” he says, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You do as he says, moving over to make room, your pulse still thrumming in your ears. Logan settles in beside you, and the bed dips slightly under his weight. The space between you feels impossibly small, yet you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

Despite his shower, the faint smell of cigars still lingers in the air. It’s oddly comforting, grounding you in the surreal reality of the moment. You take a deep breath, trying to steady the wild thoughts racing through your mind. “Good night Logan,” you murmur, hoping that sleep will come quickly and spare you from the ache of wanting what you can’t have—craving the feel of his strong arms around you, the way his hands might tighten against your throat, and the sound of his voice purring dark promises in your ear.

“G’night,” he replies, his voice a low rumble as he turns away, leaving you back to back.

Logan is in Hell.

He can feel your warmth through the thin gap between you, every soft breath you take a reminder of just how close you are. His mouth had agreed before his mind could stop him, and now he’s paying the price. Lying next to you, with your soft body and those innocent eyes that see right through him, is torture. He wonders if there’s still time to slink back into that pile of blankets on the floor.

His muscles tense as he tries to push down the desire clawing at him, the instinct to reach out and pull you close nearly overwhelming. The scent of your skin, the way you whispered his name—everything about you is a test of his control. Logan knows he’s walking a fine line, and the longer he stays here, the harder it gets to keep himself in check.

His fists clench under the covers, every muscle in his body taut with tension. Logan can hear your soft, rhythmic breathing, the quiet rustle of sheets as you shift slightly beside him. The scent of your skin lingering in the air is really what’s holding him hostage. He tries to focus on anything else, but all he can think about is how close you are—how easy it would be to reach out and just touch you.

You lie there, eyes wide open, staring into the darkness. The silence of the room is thick, almost suffocating, but you know you’re not the only one awake. You can feel it- an awareness that runs deeper than simple intuition. All those missions together, all those nights spent side by side—you’ve learned to read him in ways that go beyond words.

Without needing to glance back, you know Logan Howlett is still awake. It’s as if his presence hums in the air between you, a silent energy that’s becoming increasingly impossible to ignore. There’s a tension there, a subtle shift in the way he breathes, the way he holds himself so still, as if he’s trying not to disturb the fragile peace of the night. But you can sense it: something’s bothering him.

You wonder if it’s the same turmoil that’s been gnawing at you, the same restless desire that has kept you on edge ever since you laid down beside him. The thought of Logan feeling the same way sends a shiver through you. It’s a strange kind of comfort, knowing that you might not be alone in this.

But then again, the Wolverine is a man of secrets, you know him well, better than most, but not as well as you’d like. Not in the ways that matter most right now. And yet, lying there in the dark, with only your thoughts and the steady rhythm of his breathing to keep you company, you can’t help but wonder if the walls he’s built around himself are cracking, just as yours are.

You can’t take it anymore. Tentatively, you let your hand drift to the space between you, your fingers brushing against his side. Logan stiffens at the contact, a sharp intake of breath the only sound in the darkness. Emboldened by his reaction, you let your hand slide further, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. You’re on fire, body moving on its own accord. This wasn’t you, it couldn’t be.

“Darlin’, you don’t know what you’re startin’,” Logan growls, his voice thick with warning and something else that you couldn’t quite identify yet.

But you do know. You know exactly what you want, and you’re tired of pretending otherwise. You turn onto your side, pressing your body against his back, your breath hot against his neck.

“I don’t know. Maybe I do,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

Logan turns to you with a gentleness that catches you off guard, his hand sliding to your waist with a tenderness that feels almost reverent. He pulls you close, but it’s not with the raw urgency you expected. Instead, it’s slow, deliberate, as though he’s holding himself back by a thread. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and intense, searching for something, perhaps a final permission.

It’s you that closes the gap. The pressure of his lips against yours is gentle, but the undercurrent of need is undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface. You can feel the restraint in every brush of his lips, every measured caress, and it only makes you clench tighter.

Logan’s hands begin to roam, exploring your body with a hunger that has clearly been held back for far too long. He takes his time, fingers tracing every curve, every dip, as if memorizing the feel of you beneath his touch. His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs, “This is all I could think about out there, in the woods… how you’d feel, how you’d taste.”

His words send a rush of heat through you, a deep flush spreading across your skin. His hands slide up your thighs, teasing the edge of your shirt before slipping underneath, the warmth of his touch igniting every nerve. His fingers trace lazy circles on your skin, his lips moving down your collarbone, and you realize with a start that you’re trembling beneath him.

You find yourself arching into his touch, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Logan’s mouth curls into a smile against your skin, sensing your desperation. “‘s that what you want, darlin’?” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that vibrates against your skin, making you shiver. “You want me to take you apart, piece by piece?”

You nod, breathless, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you silently plead for him to stop teasing. “Please, Logan,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need. “Please…”

He chuckles softly against your skin, a dark, throaty sound that sends another wave of heat through you. Logan pulls back, his gaze heavy with desire as he sits up. You watch, breathless, as he reaches for the hem of his vest, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The sight of his bare chest visible only by the flecks of moonlight, muscles rippling beneath his skin, takes your breath away (though this wouldn’t be the first time). You reach out, your fingers brushing against his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

Logan watches you with dark, hungry eyes as he reaches for the waistband of his pants, removing them with deliberate slowness. He seems to take pleasure in the way your breath catches, in the way your gaze follows every movement as he slides them down, revealing the full, impressive length of his dick. Logan is big. It’s not just long, but it’s fucking big. Veiny, girthy and leaking precum at the tip, you can’t help but instinctively bite your lip.

The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your pussy ache for him in a way that’s almost painful. “Logan… please,” you whisper again, your voice barely more than a breath as you look up at him through your lashes.

His gaze darkens, a satisfied smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he finally gives in, his hands moving with purpose as he strips you of your t-shirt. The moment your body is fully exposed to him, Logan pauses, his eyes raking over you with a possessive hunger that makes your heart skip a beat. He takes you in, every inch of you, committing the contours of your body to memory.

When he finally positions himself between your legs, you’re trembling with anticipation, your body aching for him. But Logan doesn’t rush. He takes his time, guiding himself to your entrance, the head of his cock brushing against your wetness before he pulls your panties to the side. He watches your face, his gaze dark and intense, as he teases you, pushing just the tip inside before pulling back. Bastard.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough but laced with tenderness, his lips brushing against your ear. “Because once I start, I can assure you; there’s no going back.”

You nod, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel him inside you. “I need you inside me.” you whisper, your voice heavy with desire.

Logan growls low in his throat, and finally, mercifully, he pushes inside you, filling you with a slow, deliberate thrust that makes you gasp. The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch and fullness making your head spin as he sinks deeper, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt. He pauses, letting you adjust, his lips brushing yours in a soft, almost reverent kiss.

Then he begins to move, each thrust deep and powerful, driving you both closer to the edge with every stroke. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he moves inside you, his gaze locked on yours as if he’s taking in every expression, every moan, every gasp.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine. You do, your eyes meeting his in a drunken haze. You moan, your body trembling beneath him, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming. Every thrust, every movement, is perfectly timed, his body attuned to yours in a way that almost didn’t feel real.

“Logan,” you breathe, your voice trembling with need. “It’s so… much.”

He leans in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “I know, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice full of rough affection. “But you can take it,” He spits.

The praise, the way he’s looking at you, it all builds the tension inside you to a fever pitch. His gaze never wavers, holding yours as he moves deeper, harder. You can’t help the soft whimpers that escape your lips, your body tightening around him with each powerful stroke. Logan’s grip on your hips tightens, and he groans, his eyes darkening further as he watches you come undone beneath him.

“Don’t hold back,” he growls, his voice full of animalistic need. “Let me see you, I want it all.”

“Logan… I—” The words catch in your throat as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, your body arching beneath him.

He growls your name, a primal sound full of need, as he moves faster, harder, both you and Logan knew you were close.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice ragged, his gaze locked on yours.

And you do. With a cry, you shatter around him, the pleasure crashing over you like a wave, your body convulsing with the force of it. Logan follows you over the edge, his own release tearing through him as he groans your name.

When it’s over, Logan collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is quiet now, the air thick with the scent of sweat and satisfaction. You nestle against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. The tension that had built up between you over the past few days finally snapped, and here you both are, tangled in the aftermath.

You shift beside him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat. He turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes—a hint of unease, maybe even regret. “You sure this was okay?” His voice is rough, laced with concern, and that old nickname hangs in the air like a habit he can’t break. “Kid.”

You meet his gaze, holding it, making sure he sees you clearly. “Logan,” you say, your voice steady, “I’m not a kid anymore. You need to stop treating me like one.”

He exhales, a long, controlled breath, as if he’s trying to push down everything he’s feeling. “I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, the words heavy.

A small, wry smile tugs at your lips as you prop yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him. “You’re not taking advantage of me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Your tone is straightforward, cutting through his doubts. “I wanted this as much as you did. I think, maybe even more…” You trail off.

He looks away, eyes flicking back to the ceiling, his hand finding its way to your back, fingers brushing your skin in a gesture that feels almost hesitant. “I’ve done things... seen things. Sometimes I’m not sure what’s right anymore.”

You lean down, pressing a kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to make sure he feels it, really feels it. When you pull back, you hold his gaze, your voice low but firm. “I know what I’m getting into.”

He’s quiet, his hand tightening on your back just a little, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. He doesn’t say anything else, just pulls you closer, holding you like you’re the one solid thing in a world that’s always shifting beneath his feet.

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #deadpool 3 #xmen #x reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months ago

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Do You Wanna Touch Me?

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) Pairing: Marcus Pike x Sex Worker Female Reader Words Count: 4,200 Summary: After getting his heart broken, Marcus Pike takes an assignment in Amsterdam. What started as an exploration of the red light district turns into choosing you, the most beautiful art he's ever seen. Warnings: sex work, erotic dancing, hand job, masturbation, fingering, oral (m receiving), reader wears makeup and a dress, marcus tries to escape his heartbreak, van gogh mentions, reader is college aged, dieter bravo exists in this universe

A/N: This was written for @baronessvonglitter's Fuck-tober birthday celebration. I was assigned Marcus Pike and "Do You Wanna Touch Me" by Joan Jett. Happy birthday Adriana!!! 💕

Here are the songs I refer to in the fic: “Do You Wanna Touch Me” by Joan Jett “Bed Chem” by Sabrina Carpenter “Streets” by Doja Cat “God Is A Woman” by Ariana Grande “Cinema” by Harry Styles “The Night Me and Your Mama Met” by Childish Gambino Masterlist

---

Marcus doesn’t do things like this. He’s a good man, a good son, a good brother, a good friend, and most of all, a good agent. And yet, he still walks down the cobblestone street that’s bathed in red lights.

LIVE SEX SHOW SEX TOYS SEX PALACE HIGH TIMES

What in the world is he doing here? Curiosity, loneliness, being so fucking horny he can’t focus on the case ahead. You’re a good man he tells himself as he ventures deeper into the crimson alleys, the shadow of shame following closely behind him.

“Hey handsome. Today’s your lucky day.” A blonde man winks, handing him a gilded envelope. “You’re invited to Galerij.”

Marcus blinks down at the golden envelope, looking up to find the blonde stranger already gone from his sight. He opens the envelope, revealing a simple invitation with gold embossed text.

Galerij, Amsterdam’s hottest art pieces. €400

He’s a damn FBI agent, and yet he’s too intrigued and desperate for a distraction to say no. He should know better, his badge weighs heavily in his pocket. He plugs the address into his phone with a sigh and makes the quick walk to the address listed, silently atoning for his sins as he passes the Oude Kerk church. He doesn’t dare make eye contact with any of the police officers situated, they might sense his shame.

“You’ve arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice intones. He looks up at the plain brick row home that stands out amongst the surrounding buildings covered in neon lights with windows full of girls in different levels of undress.

A small gold sign hangs above the unassuming black door. GALERIJ

He inhales deeply and pushes the door open. A bell jingles. Inside, an older looking woman with slicked-back blonde hair and a sharp black suit sits behind a desk.

“Nederlands or English?” she asks, her tone clipped.

“English,” he answers, his throat tight. “Please.”

“Invitation?”

“Oh, uh, here,” he hands her the invitation.

Without any more acknowledgment, she gestures to a black leather chair near an intricately carved golden door. “Please take a seat.”

A bit of trepidation blooms within him as he sits down, but when he looks around, he realizes that this isn’t some seedy back-alley brothel. It can’t be that bad if the walls are covered in mahogany and the floor is marble.

The woman makes a quick phone call, speaking in a hushed voice. His palms grow sweaty. What the hell is he doing? This was supposed to be a quick exploration of something that’s always fascinated him… legal vices. Yet now, he's gripping the armrests as the same stern woman brings over a clipboard and card machine.

“Cash or charge?”

“Oh, cash?” he replies quickly, fumbling for his wallet. There’s no way he’s going to use a credit card around here, too many chances of his secret adventure getting revealed on a statement.

“400 euros.”

He opens his wallet and unfolds his money. 100, what are you doing? 200, what are you doing? 300, Marcus, seriously, what are you doing? 350, no seriously what are you doing? 400, damn, you’re really doing it.

Stern woman takes the money and hands him a gold pin with a simple G etched onto it. She hits a small gold bell on her desk, a singular ring sharply echoes across the small room.

He pins the pin to his chest, reminding him of all the times he used to pin the old Met Museum badge to his lapel when he was a young college student in New York. This is so much more different than that, he reminds himself.

The golden door opens after a moment.

A beautiful older woman in a dark burgundy skirt and matching jacket walks out with a smile lifting her dark red lips.

“Welcome to Galerij. I am Maud, the curator.” she greets, offering her hand. “What would you like us to call you here?”

He rises and shakes her hand.

Can’t do Marcus, can’t do Pike, can’t do Agent. He thinks of that one actor everyone tells him he looks like. “Uh–Bravo.”

“Very well, Bravo,” she opens the door, moving aside allowing him to walk through. “Welcome to Galerij.”

He steps into a stark white room. The floor is shiny concrete, a singular white table with two white wishbone chairs sit in the middle of the room, a stark contrast to the entrance room on the other side of the wall. Not exactly what he was expecting. The agent in him can’t help but think this would be a perfect place to kill somebody.

Maud motions for him to sit across from her. “Here you will make your decision on what piece you’d like. Gay or straight?”

He sits down, her question is a reminder as to why he’s really here. “Straight,” he answers, his nerves beginning to creep around him.

She nods. “All of our pieces are tested, clean, and practice safe sex. Your piece will tell you what they will and won’t do once you make your choice. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You will have twenty minutes, your time will start once you enter your gallery. A bell will ring every five minutes, your final bell will ring twice symbolizing your last five minutes. Do not be late. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Of course no photos or recordings. We ask you to not even have your phone out. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ready?” she asks with a smile on her face.

“I am,” he answers. His heart is pounding.

She nods and presses a button, a shrill buzz echoes through the room. A hidden door opens and a large muscle and tattoo clad man with buzzed black hair and a nose ring walks out carrying a red velvet-covered book. He hands it to Maud, before standing behind her like a silent guardian.

His heart races faster than he ever thought it could when she opens the book and pushes it towards him.

GALERIJ with the day's date is stamped on the thick page.

His fingers tremble as he flips to the first page revealing a photo of an olive skinned and brown haired woman clad in dark blue lingerie with delicate yellow stars embroidered all over it lying on top of swirled silky blue sheets. She’s absolutely stunning.

“This is The Starry Night.”

He nods, turning the page.

A pale skinned, petite woman with shockingly white blonde hair wears a light blue bra and lace panties while laying atop white flower petals. She’s just as beautiful as the first woman.

“This is Almond Blossom.”

He turns the page.

A dark skinned, dark haired woman sits against a yellow wall wearing two sunflower blooms over her ample chest. Her smile is wide, just like her eyes lined with bright gold glitter. She’s gorgeous

“This is Sunflowers.”

They all look like they just walked off the runway, all beautiful and alluring. He wonders what–or who–the next piece will be. He smiles to himself when he realizes they’re all named after Van Gogh. Of course he’d find himself in an art themed brothel… he just can’t escape work.

“Before you see my fourth piece, please know she’s a little different. You cannot touch her, only watch. Don’t let that sway your decision, she is our most popular piece.”

He braces himself as he turns the page.

He loses his breath when he sees you. There you are, sitting cross-legged against the same color wall as Sunflowers. He can just see a glimpse of your nipples under your sheer indigo bra. Your green lined eyes leer at the camera. He thanks all the stars in Starry Night for his chance to even get a look at you. He’s lost in time at how your skin glows against the golden wall.

“Wow,” he breathes out.

“I believe you made your decision,” Maud says with a knowing smile. “This is Irises.”

“Yes,” Marcus swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Irises please.”

She nods and closes the book. “Pieter, let Irises know.”

“Okay Bravo,” Maud says with a smile and stands. “Pieter will come and get you when Irises is ready. Please do enjoy my gallery.”

“Thank you Maud,” he says, wiping his sweaty hands against the fabric of his jeans.

The fading sound of Maud and Pieter’s steps and a door closing leaves him all alone in the sparse room.

He hopes he looks good enough for you. His dark blue jeans are presentable enough, his plain gray v neck is clean, he thanks himself for spritzing himself with a dash of cologne before leaving his hotel. He knows he paid the equivalent of close to $450 for you to like him, but he still wants to impress you.

He checks his watch, five minutes have passed. He’s too afraid to bring his phone out, so he just stares forward, nervously tapping his foot.

This wasn’t his plan at all, he was just going to explore and sightsee, nothing more. No drugs, no sex, just curiosity.

The door opens. Pieter appears.

“Irises is ready,” he announces, his accent thick. “Follow me.”

He tentatively trails Pieter through the door walking down a hallway lined with doors. Ornate golden frames hang with Van Gogh pieces in each one. They reach the door with Irises hung next to it.

“Twenty minutes,” Pieter says flatly, opening the door. “Sit in the chair. Do not touch. You watch.”

Marcus nods, his heart slamming against his chest. His knees almost buckle as he steps inside the room.

It’s dark, save for a single spotlight shining down on a small stage, a lone purple velvet high back chair sits waiting for him in the middle of it. His shaky legs take him up the three steps before he lowers into it, hands clenching the wide armrests, trying to control his breathing.

He shouldn't be here–-he knows that. It’s too late for regrets now.

The click-clack of your heels echoes through the room when you step onto the stage. He’s too nervous to turn his head to see you. His body tenses, anticipation coiling all of his muscles tight. When you finally step in front of him, he has to remind himself to breathe.

You’re beautiful, the light catches on the sheer fabric of your dress. He can just make out the curves of your body, naked under light lavender chiffon. Your eyes are lined with deep purple eyeliner, ending into a cat eye at the corners. Your ruby red lips curl up into a knowing smile, almost as if you can see his desire for you.

Four thousand miles away from home and he’s just found the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. His cock begins to thicken, the shame of his paid for voyeurism adventure dissolving from his mind. You’re finer than any masterpiece he’s ever had to investigate.

“Hi Bravo,” you purr, your voice smooth and teasing, “Do you wanna touch me?”

He nods and coughs nervously. “Y-yes. But, I can’t.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips. “Good boy.”

His back tightens, a wave of heat flows down his spine and settles in his lap. For too long he’s disallowed himself from feeling this type of pleasure. Too busy, too sad, too heartbroken. What led him here feels like a blur. An exchange of glances, a subtle wink, an invitation. The black door, €400 out of his wallet, a white room, an open red velvet book, the long hallway, Irises. He allows himself to enjoy the experience just as you send him a wink.

You’re like his own little gallery show standing in front of him. A piece of art he doesn’t just want to see–but memorize.

—

You’ve only been doing this for a few months now. It really is the perfect side hustle to support yourself while finishing your art degree. You’ve been enamored with Van Gogh’s art since you were a child, a lifelong dream realized when you were accepted into the student exchange program at the University of Amsterdam. You made it possible, and now, working two nights a week in between coursework, you're making more than most of your friends earn in an entire week. Of course, only a select few know what you really mean when you say you work at a very exclusive gallery.

It’s a good job. Maud takes good care of you, vetting those who enter her establishment with her keen client recruiters on the streets. Pieter is always a buzz away, though you’ve never felt danger. Everyone needs an escape, some just agree to pay a premium for it. They call it the oldest profession for a reason.

Bravo. He’s your last customer tonight, and they sure did save the best for last. You watched him approach on the security camera, a smile formed when you noticed how much he resembled your favorite actor, you had plans for him. His wide shoulders, broad body, thin beard, and perfect head of hair almost made you think it was him, if it wasn’t for his eyes flickering around the room nervously. There’s no way Dieter Bravo would be anxious in this type of situation.

You press play on the stereo. A quick drumbeat starts, your steps keep tempo with it as you come back to stand in front of your client.

Turning around and bending over, your hips dance to the beat of the song as your hands roam along your curves, lifting your dress to give him a peek of your thighs and ass. A low groan rumbles behind you.

“Do you like what you see?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, moving your hands up and down your body.

“Y-yes,” he stammers, his nervous eyes wide and plush lips parted.

Those same nervous eyes watch as you bunch the fabric of your dress up and take it off, tossing it aside. He eyes you, brows furrowed in concentration, eyes exploring all of you like you’re a painting hanging in a gallery.

You cup your breasts, feeling the velvety warmth of your skin beneath your fingers as the purple of your nail polish brushes against your hardened nipples. Slowly you tilt your head down and let a trail of spit fall to one nipple.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask, pinching and pulling the sensitive peaks of your nipples. “Mmph–mmhmm,” he groans, nervously shuffling in his seat.

Bending forward and placing your hands on his knees gives him the perfect view of your breasts. A long sigh comes from him, his eyes planted on your tits. You like what you’re doing to him, you never start your dances off this close to a client, but you can’t resist him.

When your hands trail up to his thick thighs, the bulge of his pants makes your mouth water, tempting you to move towards it. Not yet.

Leaning closer, you nuzzle against the warmth of his neck. He smells delicious… like eucalyptus and maple syrup. His quickening breaths puff out against your hair. You taste his skin with your tongue, licking your way up to his ear.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask along with the song.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters.

Pulling away, you wink before turning your back to him and delicately sit atop his lap. Sinking down against his broad chest, the heat radiating off him burns hot against your back. The song changes just as you feel the poke of his erection against your ass.

A poppy beat soundtracks your movements as you grind yourself against the heft of him, falling back, placing your head against his wide chest. Reaching back, your hands tangle in his soft hair, humming sweetly along to the sound, letting a few lyrics slip out of your mouth.

“I bet you we’d really have good bed chem”

Your client follows directions very well, staying perfectly still, gripping the armrests so hard the golden skin around his knuckles turn white. You rub yourself against the rough fabric of his jeans, getting off on the quiet whimpers he leaves in your ear.

RING. The fifteen minute bell rings.

“And I bet it’s even better than in my head”

You rise off his lap and bend over clasping your hands around your ankles, giving him the perfect view of your ass and dripping core. The song fades out, a deeper, sultrier drumbeat begins.

“Like you, like you, ooh, I found it hard to find someone like you”

Your body gently sways along to the slow, sultry beat, and when you flip your head back to glance at him, he lets a low groan out. Placing your hands on the floor, you walk them out ahead of you before you’re on all fours, spreading your legs wide to show him even more of your glistening pussy.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask, settling on your stomach, snaking a hand between your wide spread legs.

“Y-yes,” he huffs.

“I know you do Bravo,” you tilt your hips up hovering them above the ground, “let me show you how I like it.”

Your middle finger enters your soaked entrance as your thumb gently dusts light circles against your clit. Your hips move in beat to the heavy rhythm of the song.

“Oh god,” he pants, when you stick another finger in, the chair creaking underneath his tensity.

RING. The ten minute bell rings.

Choreography, that’s the business term for what you’re doing. It’s all timed out, you hear these songs at least ten times every work day. Though you never sit on your clients as close as you did with Bravo, you never taste their skin like you did with Bravo. He deserves more than the same memorized steps, something better than the repetition you offer all of the others.

The song changes, signaling you to start your new routine, you ignore the cue, rolling onto your back, arching slightly, your eyes meet his. His hands remain clamped on to the armrests, fingers digging into the velvet. He’s trembling with restraint, beads of sweat glistening on his skin. His erection swells, the tight fabric of his pants tenting.

“Do you wanna touch me Bravo?”

“I do,” he whines, the lines of his neck straining as his head thuds against the back of the chair.

“Okay, okay baby,” you sit up, turning to crawl towards him. Your eyes don’t leave his.

“And I can be all the things you told me not to be

When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing”

Kneeling on your knees in front of him, you unlock one of his clutched hands, moving it to the soft skin of your breast.

“N-no touching I thought,” he stammers, his hand laying flat against your skin.

“I make my own rules, it’s okay Bravo,” you allow, grabbing his other hand and placing it on you.

He groans when he cups your breasts in his hands. You watch the tendons of his strong hand tense and release as he cups your breasts and massages them in his hold. He’s mesmerized by his movements, like he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you.

Your hand teases its way up his leg to the warmth of the apex of his thighs before gripping him, thick and hard underneath the constraints of his jeans.

“Oh fuck,” he growls. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re so beautiful.”

His words of adoration fall out of his mouth, eyes still locked on your tits covered by his hands.

You unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as the choir sings God is a woman.

The song changes.

“You got, you got the cinema”

Your eyes light at the sight of his cock, standing tall and thick, precum leaking from the engorged tip. It’s just as beautiful and wide as the rest of your client.

Bravo lets out a garbled groan when you wrap your hand around his length, slowly pumping him along to the song. Up, down, up, down, the sexy beat soundtracking your movements.

RING. RING. The five minute bell rings. Your client doesn’t seem to heed the warning, only focusing on his thumbs swiping back and forth against the peaks of your nipples and your hand stroking the smooth silk of his cock.

“Touch me Bravo,” you rise, lifting a foot up on the armrest, keeping hold of his pulsing dick in your hand. “Give me two of your fingers.”

His eyes gaze down to your dripping cunt, watching himself as his hand sweeps down your body before parting your folds.

You got, you got the cinema

Your hips undulate to the tempo of the song as he sticks two of his long, thick fingers into your heat.

“God damn,” he mutters incredulously, “you’re so wet.”

The song changes.

A steady and slow funky guitar plays along with a soulful choir. It’s soft and romantic, exactly what you like to close down your shows with. You’ve never ended a show like this, your hand wrapped around your client’s wide cock, and your pussy clenching around two of his thick fingers. His thumb begins sweeping back and forth against your clit, he may have found himself at a brothel in Amsterdam, but your client has done this before. Perfect movements, perfect angle, you stare down in reverie at the focus he holds, watching himself touch you. His adoration of your body heats your core, lighting an orgasm just as beautiful as the song that plays.

“Fuck baby,” you pant, “I’m gonna cum.”

He blinks up to you, brown eyes staring intensely into yours when you bite your lip and send a gush of wet against his fingers. Your legs turn shaky, as your clit pulses against his thumb that blesses your sensitive bub with just the right amount of pressure. Moving his hand from between your thighs, he holds it up, marveling at the sight of your juices shining against his skin. You send him a smile as your leg drops to the floor, the rest of your body following, kneeling in front of him. He still stares at his hand, watching the strings of your orgasm stretch across his widely spread fingers.

“Smear it on your cock for me,” you say, planting both hands on his thighs.

He groans and nods before rubbing the remnants of your orgasm on his shaft. He shouts an indistinguishable sound when you lick a line up to his tip, tasting yourself and the salty tang of his precum. Your lips envelop the fat tip of him, sucking and slobbering your way down the thick length of him.

The song ends, the playlist repeats. The same quick drumbeat of the first song plays loudly.

You suck him to the beat, flicking your tongue against his tip with each “YEAH!” of the song.

RING. RING. RING. The final bells ring, signaling that your client should have left by now.

Bravo locks up. Your mouth unclasps from his cock.

“It’s okay,” you assure, “we have a word for–”

A heavy knock lands against the door.

“Driehoek (triangle) Pieter! I’m good in here, thanks!”

Three rapid knocks–softer now–signal Pieter’s departure.

“You guys really have it all fig–oh god,” he moans, when you take his cock back into your mouth.

His strong legs shake against your body as your cheeks hollow, taking him into your mouth faster and harder, his hips thrusting up to meet your mouth. Drool leaks out of the sides of your mouth, your eyes stare up at him blinking back tears as he reaches the back of your throat. You don’t know if he’s ever allowed himself this much freedom, it feels like you’ve unlocked something deep within him with the way he’s snarling and grunting “Irises” over and over.

“G-gonna–yeah–yeah–cum,” he gasps, hips stuttering and chair creaking as he spills into your accepting mouth.

Bravo, client. Bravo.

—

He can’t believe he just did that. He just–he–he just– came in the mouth of a complete stranger–nay–a prostitute. You told him you’ve never done something like that with a client as you tossed him a towel… and the funny thing is he actually believes you.

You shuffle back into the see through lilac dress as he zips his jeans back up. You really are the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, even if your purple eyeliner is now streaked from the tears that sprung in your eyes from gagging on his cock. Wow, that did just happen.

You leave a kiss against his cheek and open the door for him. Pieter escorts him out the back entrance with a knowing smile.

He walks back to his hotel, a new man with a clearer mind. Marcus really doesn’t feel the shame he expected he would. He knows a fine piece of art, and you just might be the finest he’s ever seen.

#marcus pike #pedro pascal #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fan fic #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #fucktober #birthdaybaroness #pedro pascal fanfic

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pholla-jm · 8 months ago

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Welcome The Teacher

IMAGINE: WELCOME THE TEAHCER ~ GOJO X READER FEAT: MEGUMI, NOBARA, YUJI. GENRE: FLUFF cw: italics means they are speaking in english. not proof read. *****************

“Gojo-sensei, why are we getting an English teacher again?” Yuji asks his teacher as all four of them sit in their homeroom.

Gojo leans back into his chair, feet kicked up against the desk. He didn’t really care about this topic since it didn’t benefit him at all. He had no interest in meeting a new teacher. Especially one who only spoke English.

“Hell if I know.” “Eh?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, not really surprised by his teacher's lack of answer. Megumi turns to his classmates, “we’re getting an English teacher because there have been reports of curses in other areas other than Japan. So they’re saying it’s important that we get along with sorcerers from other countries. That’s why we’re learning English. So we can communicate.”

Gojo inwardly scoffs to himself. If they wanted to get along, maybe they should learn how to speak Japanese instead. Well that was his thought process of it, and somewhat right about it. However, it was also a cover that he didn’t learn English that well either.

“Why do you know this?” Yuji asks. “Yaga-sensei filled me in since Gojo-sensei failed to show up.” “Ugh, that sounds like him.” Nobara chirps up.

Gojo drastically sighs, ready to complain about how his students think so little of him. However, the bell rings and he shoots up out of his seat. An annoying grin on his face, “well! That’s my cue to leave. So much to do today. Anyway, have fun~” He sings before flashing out of the room.

A minute later, the door slides open and an unknown person enters the room.

It didn’t take long for them to figure out it was their new English teacher. However, they weren’t expecting you.

They were expecting an old man who was going to read them boring books.

Instead, they were met with a young teacher who had a lot of pep in their step. They carried a bag and a cup in their hand. *******

“Hello!” You say while placing your things down on the desk. You didn’t see their homeroom teacher in sight, which meant that he already left. You were already warned about him… how he could be a bit annoying at times. However, you were a trained teacher so you knew how to deal with childish people.

“My name is Ms. (L/n), and I will be your English teacher. I hope we learn a lot together.”

You eye the three students in front you. Two of them were wearing a dumbfounded look on their faces. You found it a bit amusing.

One student with black spiky hair, who you could already tell that he was the most sensible one of the group.

“As you know, this is an English class. So we will only be speaking English, do you understand?”

The two students turned to the black haired boy. “What did she say?” They both ask him. “She’s telling us that we can only speak English.” He answers.

He turns back to you, “yes ma’am.” He answers you and the two other students hesitantly repeat after him. You smile with a nod, “great. Let’s start with introductions. Start with your name and something that you like. You can start first.” You tell the black haired boy.

He nods, standing up from his chair. The other two students look at him with wide eyes, interested to hear him. “My name is Megumi Fushiguro. I’m a second grade sorcerer, and I like to read nonfiction books. I hope we get along.” Megumi says before sitting down.

“Very good Megumi! Nice to meet you.” You say, impressed with how smoothly he spoke English. You look over at the other two students who looked at him amazed.

“Wow Megumi-” They start but you cut them off. “English please.”

Both of them stopped and you could tell that they were thinking for a bit. “Good job.” “Nice!”

You chuckle and look at the only female student, “you’re up next.” She points to herself, “me?” “Yes.”

She stands up and she’s silent for a bit, like she was thinking about what to say. “Eh.. My name is Nobara Kugisaki… and I like… shopping!” You smile while writing down some notes. “That’s great, Nobara. It is nice to meet you.”

Nobara smiles at herself, proud of her own little accomplishment. “Thank you.” She says while sitting down. You turn to the last student. The boy with pinkish hair with an undercut. “Your turn.”

The boy immediately stands up, and you could tell he was just full of energy. “My name is Yuji Itadori!” There was a pause in between his speech, “and… I like Jennifer Lawrence.” He says and you nod while writing down some more notes. You could hear some small groans from his classmate.

“Like the actress, Jennifer Lawrence?” “Yes… you know?”“Are you asking me if I know her?” He nodded his head and you had to hold back a snicker.

“No… No, I do not know her Yuji.”

A look of disappointment painted his face, “oh.” “Thank you Yuji. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yuji sits down with a content look on his face. Content that he got through that so far.

“Alright, let’s get started!” You say as you start your lesson **********

The bell dings, signaling that class is over and it’s time for lunch.

“All right,” you look at the watch on your wrist, “why don’t I take you out for lunch? I’ll pay.”

Yuji’s eyes light up hearing something about lunch. He didn’t need to know anything else. “Yes!” He shouts and you nod your head with a smile. You were quite fond of the students already, despite only knowing them for an hour.

“Any place you want to go?” Megumi asks. You thought about it for a bit and realized that you weren’t familiar with the streets of Tokyo.

“I’m fine with anything. I don’t know much of the area yet.”

Megumi nods, turning to his friends to ask what they wanted to eat. They all decided on sushi.

“That sounds great. Let’s go.” You say, grabbing your bag. Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi follow you out of the school. Two of the students had a bit of a skip in their step.

You turn to Megumi when the three of you exit the school. You ask him to lead the way since you have no idea what place they had chosen. As Megumi led the way, he kept glancing at you. Wondering about your curse abilities. You didn’t have a strong curse energy coming off of you, but he could tell that you were confident, which led him to be more curious about you.

“Is this the place?” You ask when you see a sushi place. “Yes.” Megumi answers you, and then leads you into the place.

It wasn’t long until the four of you were sitting down, looking over the menu. Megumi watches as your eyes scan over the menu, deciding what you are going to get. He wonders if you were able to read the information just fine.

Just as he was going to ask if you needed help, you looked up at your three students. “Ready to order?”

All of them nod. You raise your hand, grabbing the waiter's attention. It wasn’t long until the waiter was taking your order. Taking the student’s order first and then he turned to you. Megumi was about to jump in to see if you needed help.

“Can I have water, and an order of the Oshiko Maki?”

The waiter nods and leaves to get what you asked for.

You look over at your students. All three of them had a surprised look on their faces. “You speak Japanese?!” Nobara and Yuji shouts. “Yes. I wouldn’t move to Japan without learning the language first. All though I wouldn’t say I’m fluent.”

“Wow! You’re Japanese is so good (l/n)-sensei.” Yuji comments and you wave him off. “You’re just being nice.”

“So wait, can we speak to you in Japanese outside the classroom?” Nobara asks. “Hmm, I sometimes. I would like for you to practice your English as much as you can.”

Your students nod as the food comes. The four of you continue to eat in silence, sometimes speaking up to ask you a question.

Suddenly, your phone dings, signifying that lunch is over and you should head back to the school. “Alright, let’s head back to school.” You say and head back to Jujutsu High.

********

When the four of you entered the classroom, a tall man with white hair and a black blindfold covering his eyes was leaning against the teachers desk.

“Ah, there you are.” He speaks to his students, before he finally looks at you.

He was a bit shocked to see you there. Mainly because he wasn’t expecting the new English teacher to be so cute.

“Wow, Megumi. You didn’t tell me that the new teacher is cute.”

You perk up at his words, feeling slightly embarrassed by his words. However, you don’t say anything, not letting him know that you understand him. You wanted to hear what else he was going to say.

Megumi looks over at you, and you just shake your head.

“That’s weird. I’m not telling you about my teacher.” “Whatever. You should… you know, get to know her. And then tell me about them. Okay?” He grins mischievously at the boy and Nobara just sighs.

“You’re so stupid.”

Megumi rolls his eyes, “no. Do it yourself.” “Eh?! But I don’t speak English.” “Well you better learn.”

You watch their interaction, coming to realize that the rumors were true. Gojo Satoru is a dramatic man. And it was quite funny.

You just smile as you watch them bicker back and forth. You then look over at the time, realizing it was time for you to go.

“Well,” You start, “I have to go. Enjoy the rest of your day.” You grab your things and start to leave the classroom.

“Bye!” Gojo shouts in English, which almost catches you off guard. “Goodbye,” You wave with a smile.

Gojo watches as you leave, a goofy smile placed on his face.

“God, their smile is so pretty.”

Megumi rolls his eyes again, “please don’t talk about my teacher that way.” “Eh?! But I’m your teacher too! You should help me out with them.” “I’m still not doing that.” “Yeah, that’s just disgusting.” Nobara says.

“It’s okay Gojo-sensei. I believe in you!”

“Thank you Yuji-kun.” **********

fin.

a/n: I'm thinking about doing a part two, where Gojo tries to talk to the reader but his english is terrible, so it's just going to be a mess. What do you think?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #oneshot #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #megumi x reader #nobara x reader #satoru x reader #satoru fluff #satoru x you #jjk

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chaotic-mystery · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (one shot)

Summary: Joel forgets date night and has guys night instead, which makes you act out. Joel isn’t too happy and has to punish you in the best way he knows how.

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI! Mean!joel, swearing, arguing, brat tamer! If you squint, drinking, teasing Joel, a slight comment about cheating but would never, rough!joel, spanking,choking,spitting, manhandling, sir!kink, unprotected p in v, orgasm denial, pet names (little girl, little one, baby doll, Joel calls you a crazy bitch oNCE, etc) power dynamic, big girthy age gap (not specified but enough to where you call him old man) slight bullying of peepaw for forgetting stuff, rough sex. Let me know if I’m missing anything!

Word Count: 3K

This is 1000% based on this gif @worhols sent me 🖤 love u Becca

Even though your Saturday morning was filled with a shift at work, you couldn’t wait to get home to see your man and take all afternoon to get ready for your date at 7. Date night was far and in between now for you two, so some fun outside the house was what you were needing. Your key entered the lock on the front door and turned, pushing the door open to music echoing from the basement.

The kitchen counter was covered in beer boxes and bottles of liquor, chips, and Joel’s case of poker. What the fuck?

“Joel, honey?” You called out and you could hear the thumping on the basement stairs from his boots getting louder as he got closer to the main floor.

“Hey baby doll, what’s up? How was work?” The back of his hand wipes his forehead slowly, gathering all the sweat off of him. The look on your face was so telling that something was bothering you.

“Work was fine, uh I’m wondering why there’s shit all over the counter like you’re going to have guys night in the basement?” You crossed your arms across your chest and met his eyes, his jaw slowing the gum chewing down as he thought carefully of what to say next.

“Beeecause we’re playing poker tonight in the basement…” It came out more as like a question and then it became apparent to you he completely forgot about your date night.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, “Joel…we were supposed to have a date tonight..did you not remember?”

For such a tan man, you didn’t think he could turn so pale with shock. His hands met his hips and he sighed, looking down at his boots.

“Darlin’ listen I- I’m sorry I forgot we had plans. Tommy asked if we could do it here and it slipped my mind about date night tonight.” Those beautiful brown eyes found yours once more and made your body shiver with sadness and anger. “How did you forget when I’ve been reminding you all week? Jesus Christ, you don’t listen to me, old man.” You turned and started to take off your jacket, not wanting to say anymore than what you already have.

“Watch your fuckin’ tone with me little girl. I already told you I was sorry, what more do you want me to do?”

“Nothing, Joel. I don’t want you to do anything except go down there and have a fun time with your friends and play your stupid fucking game. I should ask one of them to take me out because if you can’t remember a simple date, maybe they can show me a better time.” The smartass tone was dripping off your words and it only heated the situation more.

“What the hell did you just say?” His head cocked to the side to make sure he heard you correctly. The smirk on your face only made him more irritated and he was just about to ask you to repeat yourself when he was cut off by the doorbell ringing.

“Saved by the bell, go figure.” You muttered at him and went to open the door leaving Joel standing there in a mix of emotions. You’d never in a million years date his friends but you just wanted to get a rise from him. It was only fair he was in a shitty mood after putting you in one.

You greeted them all with small ‘hellos’ and smiles, Tommy engulfing you in a hug.

“Are you playin’ poker with us tonight sweetheart?” He asks as he releases you from his arms, walking to Joel and hits his arm lightly. Joel is still clearly caught off guard from your snappy digs and doesn’t say anything to anyone.

“Oh, no. No poker for me. Joel forgot to mention it to me, guess that age is starting to catch up to him, huh?” You joke, putting the clean dishes away that were still in the strainer. All the guys laugh and Tommy nudges Joel right in his side with a stupid grin on his face.

“You just gonna take that from her? Man you’re soft now.” He says to Joel and laughs again. Joel looks up at you and burns imaginary holes into your back from staring so hard. “S’alright, she’s jus’ being a brat right now. Why don’t you guys grab the shit from the counter and we’ll start soon?” Joel asks and nods to the countertop in front of you as you stand against the cabinets and squint at him. They grab the stuff and start to head down, a few of them and Tommy hanging back to wait for Joel.

He walks to you and grabs your wrist by your hip and squeezes it, whispering in your ear, “Knock it off. Now.”

You snatch your wrist from him and he places a rough kiss on your cheek, barely pressing his lips to your skin. He was pissed off at you for even entertaining that stupid idea of you and his friends to him.

“Yes, sir.” He clocked your sarcasm instantly and glared at you. Your eyes met his only for a moment as he turned around on his heel and headed to the basement. With a short moment he disappears down the stairs and you’re left sulking in your emotions. This wasn’t the first time he forgot date night, this was actually the fourth. If Joel thought he could start to get comfortable and not put in so much effort for taking you out anymore, boy did he have another thing coming.

“Fuckin’ asshole.” you mumble to yourself and clean up the mess he left of grocery bags and receipts.

After about an hour cleaning up the main floor and having to listen to Joel's laugh carry up the stairs and into your ears, you had enough. If he wanted to play, you could play too.

Going to your shared bedroom, you start going through his closet and grab one of his old white t-shirts he had made up for work years ago. Their logo on the back left more room in the front to see everything under it. Slipping on your shortest pajama shorts and hiking them up just under your ass, you giggled at yourself in the mirror and almost changed your mind when you noticed your dress hanging in your closet that you planned to wear tonight. With the sunset slowly turning blue for the night, that burning fire in you started to reignite.

You make your way slowly down the steps with the laundry basket tucked into your side, clearly your excuse to even go down there. The men were circled around the table, music still blaring and the string lights glittering the ceiling. “No no no, so then I told her to stop usin’ her teeth, it-” You cleared your throat and Tommy shut up quickly, turning around to face you. Joel didn’t even bother to look up until they greeted you, much different than earlier now that you were half dressed. His eyes were zeroed on on your body, his nostrils flared and the cards being held in his hands slowly started to bend.

“Don’t mind me, just here to do some laundry before I go to bed.” That was a bold face lie. Joel knew you weren’t going to sleep. He also knew you weren’t down here to do laundry, you hated doing laundry.

“All good, girl. You’re no bother to us.” James said, the one who had been eyeing you since you tiptoed down here.

You opened the dryer to empty it in the laundry basket, bending over more and more with each scoop inside to get clothes out. Joel coughed loudly when he noticed what you were doing and it made you jump, not expecting him to be so obnoxious with it. “You doin’ alright baby? Need another beer?” You ask a little too sweetly and he doesn’t blink once when you meet his gaze after standing up straight, a stupid smirk forming on your lips.

“Sure, f’you wanna get me one.” He grumbled.

You wandered over to the small fridge in the corner with a piece of clothing tucked under your arm and grabbed a beer, walking over to him and cracking it open for him. He leaned to one side to really look at you, noticing that shitty grin plastered all over your face.

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t do nice things for you, baby?” You rhetorically asked and folded the pair of panties you shoved under your arm just a second ago. Everyone's eyes fell onto what little fabric there was of the bejeweled thong that said ‘Angel’ on the front.

Joel was shooting daggers at you and you knew how much you were getting under his skin at this point. You took a seat on his lap and looked at his cards, not once looking at him. “All in” James says as he pushes his chips to the middle and his eyes wander up your chest. James was older than Joel and not that good looking. It wasn’t surprising he took a liking to you since he’s cheated on his wife three times now. The other guys were out and it was just between Joel and James. Ironic.

“You’re bluffin’ you sorry bastard.” Joel chuckles and lays down his cards, straight flush.

James groaned and tossed his cards in the middle and you looked to see a full house. You jump off Joel's lap and bounce up and down cheering for him, genuinely happy he won. What you forgot about was your boobs were also bouncing up and down. “Alright, that’s it. Guys, I’ll be back in a second. Start over without me and don’t you fuckin’ steal any chips from me.” He states and grabs the laundry basket off the ground, your arm in his other hand and drags you up the stairs. Fuck. Too far.

He marches up all the way to your room and tosses you facedown on the bed, panting from anger. “What the fuck was that, little one? Hm?” You don’t move as he rips off your shorts to expose the white panties covering your ass.

“What? I was just having fun, Joel.” You snap back and brush your hair from your face to look at him. His jaw clenched together as he nodded once, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

“Ya know baby, somethin’ just tells me that isn’t the complete truth.“You wanted male attention so bad you were whorin’ yourself around down there in front of anyone who’d look at you for 5 fuckin’ seconds.” His belt was beginning to come undone and you knew what was going to happen. “Joel..baby, please I’m sorry I-”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth. Stay still. Since I’m such an old man and can’t remember jack shit, count for me baby. If you fuck up, I’ll start over.” He straddles the back of your thighs and moves your panties up out of the way, smacking your ass hard.

“O-one.” A grunt leaves his mouth after you start counting. His big hand comes down again, smacking the same spot, already red. You gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, whimpering at the pain.

“Two-o.” Your voice shutters.

Joel’s hand collides with your ass cheek once more. “You’ll learn one of these times not to be a smart ass to me, baby doll.”

“Fuck, Joel- three.” You can feel the welt starting to form.

You can hear him laughing behind you as he anchors you to the bed more, the pain making your ears ring. Joel spanks you again, the roughest he’s done it yet.

Your mouth drops in agony and tears start to fall down your face.

“F-fou-r.” The silent sobs slowly start to leave your lips.

His other hand comes by your face and ever so gently wipes the tears spilling from your pretty eyes and down your cheeks.

“Cryin’ won’t get you out of this baby girl. You wanted to act like a badass, take the punishment that follows. Got it?”

You couldn’t muster up anything other than, “Y-yes.”

“Yes, what? Say it.”

You swallowed harshly and took a deep breath before answering.

“Yes, sir.”

The hot sensation on your ass cheek was spreading all over your body, the sting from his hand cracking your flesh again made you wince, begging for him to stop.

“Ahh-five.” You seemed to have been losing your voice, only able to squeak out the number rattling in your brain.

Instead of cracking you again, Joel rubs where he’s been spanking you and groans.

“Have you learned your lesson you fuckin’ brat? Gonna be a good girl for me now?” He leans down and whispers in your ear.

You lay there still and unable to speak, a small nod was the only way you could answer. Joel reaches in front of your face and clears your vision of your hair and kisses your cheek roughly. “I dunno princess, think I might have to punish you some more.” His evil chuckle vibrated against your cheek as he kissed it again.

Without a single word more, Joel laid over the top of you with your arms pinned against your back and you began to wiggle.

“Take this fuckin’ cock baby. You want attention so bad, so stupid for cock, well here it is. Stay still.” He yanks down your panties and spits on his fingers before shoving his hand between your thighs as you squirm, his fingers starting at your soaking wet cunt all the way back to your asshole.

The pre-cum leaking from the slightly swollen red tip was spread around the head before Joel rammed his cock so far inside your aching entrance. You mule out and he covers your mouth roughly, yanking you against his chest.

“Shut the fuck up, they don’t need to know how good I fuck you. Shut that pretty mouth up before I put it to use.” He growls and starts to thrust inside you, ramming into your cervix in no time. The rough hold on your mouth makes your cries and moans so muffled but just audible enough for Joel to hear.

“So damn wet for me princess, knew you like when I spank ya like that. Such a nasty little thing f’me. Think those assholes downstairs could fuck you like I do?” A rough kiss against your neck makes your eyes roll back and whine out, needing him to split you open from the inside. His calloused hand still covers your mouth and you shake your head in disagreement.

“Use your big girl words baby.” Joel grunts and uncovers your mouth, grabbing your waist roughly and thrusts into you harder.

You whimper and bite your lip and tilt your head back, looking deep into his dark brown eyes that were hungry for you. “No, sir. I don’t think they could ever fuck me the way you do. Your big fucking dick ramming into me and making me scream while you try to fit the whole thing inside me.” You could see your words were getting him somewhere, a small smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth.

He digs his fingers into the skin on your hip more and pounds into you, his skin smacking against yours. Joel was a grunter and wow did it turn you on. His teeth clenched, he moans your name and cusses at the end of it, tossing his head back to keep himself together.

“I would’ve taken you right on that damn poker table and made you suck my cock in front of them if you woulda kept it up baby. You wanna act like a whore in front of ‘em, I’ll treat you like one. Would you’ve wanted to suck my cock with them watchin’?” He asks, pinching your nipple under his work shirt that was stuck to your body.

“I would’ve done whatever you wanted, sir. I promise, sir I will do anything for you.”

He growls and bites your earlobe teasingly before licking it and the shell of your ear.

“You’re a crazy little bitch for me aren’t ya?”

“I-I’m so close sir, fuck don’t stop.” You whine and he shoves your head down into the bed, groaning loudly.

“No baby, bad girls don’t get to cum. You better not or I’ll spank you harder than before. D’you want me to spank you much harder than the last time, angel?” Your body was aching to cum, the mascara you applied hours ago now smeared and running down your cheeks.

“No, sir.” The tears pricking your eyes as you could feel your orgasm just sitting in your stomach wanting to be released all over Joel’s cock.

He groans louder and pushes your head down to keep still while he drives his cock balls deep in you, slowing up as he’s bracing himself for the end of his fun.

Joel gives your ass a few more good smacks and you have to squeeze your legs shut to keep yourself from cumming. He wasn’t fair for making you hold it, he liked seeing you helpless.

“Gonna fill this little pussy full so you don’t forget who you belong to, you got that?” His hand wraps around your throat as he engulfs you in his arms, fucking you sloppy until he’s panting like a dog in your ear. “Fuck baby doll-fuck- I’m gonna-a cum-ah-fuc-” Joel’s hot stream shoots inside you as he grunts loudly, grabbing a handful of your hair in the midst of fucking his load deep in your hole.

Your pussy squelches and you can feel your clit just screaming to get some attention, some relief. Joel's breaths regulate once more and he lays there behind you kissing your shoulder and back softly. “Maybe next time you won’t be a brat huh?” He chuckles and gets up to go to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth for you. He cleans you up and your eyes get heavy, sleep creeping up on you. Joel kisses your forehead, whispering in your ear, “Get some rest baby. I’ll be back up soon. Maybe I’ll let you cum then.”

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mythicalmisery · 4 months ago

Text

Bull Rider AU: GhostxSoap

AO3

Bull rider Ghost and clueless Soap who doesn’t know the hat rule.

Soap had a stupid smile on his face as he picked up a discarded, black cowboy hat and put it on his head while turning to Gaz. They had been heading back to their seats after a quick snack break when Soap had spotted it, unable to help himself.

“Ye think I can pull it off?” he asked grinning, completely unaware of the hulking figure that had appeared at his back only moments later.

Soap froze at the deep, yet still whispered, “Don’t think that belongs to ya, mate,” spoken right beside his ear. He could feel the other’s hot breath on his skin.

His eyes went wide, pleading, as he looked at Gaz for a lifeline. His friend had the same expression reflecting back at him, unsure what to do either. Without any help from Gaz Soap turned around.

His eyes met a broad chest clasped in a black leather vest, decorated with various patches of brands and sponsors he had never heard of. He slowly lifted his gaze to the man’s face, or at least what was showing of it. The lower half was covered in a black bandana with a skull design painted onto it.

It was real dusty and the man was clearly one of the riders competing, so Soap didn’t think twice about it. Hell, he wished he had one right now to hide his own embarrassment that was surely written all over his face.

The only thing he could make out underneath the stadium lights were amber eyes and blond lashes that matched his mop of sweat-clumped hair that stuck to his forehead. Those eyes that pinned Soap to where he stood and felt like burning flames licking at his skin.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, his voice coming out dry and crackly despite his efforts. “Sorry mate, didn’t mean to offend anyone,” he tossed out in an attempt of easement.

He grabbed the hat off his head, stretching out his hand and offering it back to its rightful owner. The man didn’t remove his gaze from Soap once as he took his hat back.

Soap was all too aware he had been holding his breath during the whole interaction. He was hoping the man wasn’t offended by Soap touching his property. A fight was the last thing he needed right now, especially three beers into his night. His internal panicking was interrupted by the stranger’s gruff voice.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell ya not to go ‘round touching things that don’t belong to ya?” Soap took a reflexive step back when the man took a step forward.

He could still see Gaz out of the corner of his eye, which helped a little knowing he wasn’t alone if things went to shite. Although, he would feel really bad if he made Gaz get into an altercation and ruin their night out due to him being an idiot.

Soap laughed nervously. “Always seemed to have a problem with authority and rules.”

That had the other raising a brow. “That right?”

There were alarm bells ringing in Soap’s head. The adrenaline pumping through his veins should have been warning enough but he never claimed to be smart. The man glanced over Soap top to bottom, as if he was assessing him. The undivided attention had goosebumps breaking out over Soap’s skin.

He leaned in closer, invading the already non existent space between them.

“Do ya know what the hat rule is, mate?” he asked with a smirk, like he already knew Soap didn’t.

“Uh, n-no.” Soap felt like a bumbling idiot.

The man simply nodded at the answer he was already expecting. He lowered himself until he was looking over Soap’s left shoulder, speaking directly into his ear.

“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”

Soap could feel the heat flood his face like a dam opening.

Oh fuck.

It was as if Soap’s mind, mouth, and pretty much whole body went offline. He couldn’t seem to get anything to work after the other man’s words had registered. Well, except maybe one body part, that seemed to be working just fine.

After standing frozen like an idiot once again for too long, he somehow managed to stoke the last dying embers of a functioning brain cell and took control over his body once again.

With a nervous laugh he took a staggered step back, his arms outstretched in a placating way. The man wasn’t angry, but fucking hell was he intimidating and Soap needed some space to breath especially after that comment.

“Oh, well that’s.. uh.. ye know, we really should be getting back to our seats,” he spewed out while grabbing Gaz by the shoulder. Soap didn’t wait for the man to say anything else, leaving him to stand and watch as he scurried away like a coward.

He made a beeline for their section in the stands, subtly adjusting his now uncomfortably tight pants. He glared at Gaz when he made a comment at his flustered appearance, doing his best to block out his incessant teasing. He felt like he was fifteen years old again, popping boners when the wind blew just a little too strongly.

The announcer came back on over the intercom speakers, introducing the next round of riders as they finally reached their seats. Soap did his best to try and focus on the riders in the dirt down below, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of that man’s breath on his neck, the way his voice was that deep even at a whisper, the way his eyes made his skin feel like it was lit aflame.

And as if God was playing a cruel trick on him, his gaze was drawn to the rider getting ready to mount the bull in queue. It was him.

He couldn’t make out too many details from this far up, but he was able to spot that familiar mask on the jumbo screen hanging in the center of the arena. The man had his hat on this time. The same hat that Soap had just been wearing. He couldn’t deny it, the man looked good in it.

The announcer chimed in, getting the crowd going. Gaz leaned over, hitting Soap’s shoulder as he whispered, “There’s your man.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth at his friend’s words. Soap glanced back up to the screen, eyes scanning until he found what he was looking for in big, bold letters.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

Simon. Fuck. Even his name was hot.

He looked back down to the roping box, the bull that - Simon? Ghost? - was about to ride. It was fucking massive. He could see it already bucking and ramming the sides of the fence from up in the stands and on the screen, clearly pissed off.

The anticipation in the arena was electric, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Ghost settled himself on the bull. While the men around him steadied him with their hands, Soap’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t even know the man but his stomach was twisting into knots.

He watched as Ghost adjusted his grip on the bull rope and flexed his hand, his muscles tensing under the strain displayed on the big screen.

Soap’s breath stuttered as the gate flew open, the bull exploding out into the arena twisting and bucking with raw power. Ghost moved with fluid precision; the man’s arm raised into the air, his waist snapping back and forth in perfect sync with the bull’s wild movements. Soap couldn’t tear his eyes away, completely captivated by the sight.

The crowd roared around him, cheering and shouting their encouragement as Ghost held on. Soap found himself leaning forward in his seat, his breath caught in his lungs. He silently willed Simon to stay on just a few seconds longer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the ride. Ghost leaped off the bull, landing as gracefully as one could while running from a crazed animal with horns. Soap’s heart was still pounding as he watched Ghost run back toward the gate, somehow still maintaining his casual demeanor as he climbed over.

He watched as the rider disappeared behind the gate and out of sight. Gaz elbowed him playfully, a knowing grin on his face. “Go congratulate your cowboy, he just one first place,” he said, his voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Soap whipped his head to the scoreboard, eyes scanning before he saw Ghost’s name jump to the top as his points were entered. He couldn’t help the stupid smile spreading across his face.

“Ye sure you’ll be alright?” he asked, already standing up. Gaz scoffed, “Get the fuck outta here Soap.”

Soap put his hands together in a mock prayer. “Thank you, Garrick.”

He turned around and nearly sprinted down the stairs, cursing the crowds blocking his way. He had to make it down there before the rider left.

Soap finally managed to make it down to the ground floor, booking it to the area cornered off for the riders and their crew. He got farther than he thought he would before security stopped him, asking for his pass that he clearly didn’t have.

He tried a handful of excuses but there wasn’t any reasoning with the man. He was about to ask if he could at least pass on a message for him before he felt someone brush up against his back.

“He’s with me.”

Soap swallowed. That low, gravelly voice back in his ear. Right where he wanted it.

The security guard stood there a moment before he nodded at Ghost and walked away, as if Soap wasn’t even there.

It took a herculean effort for Soap to turn around. He was very close to losing his nerve and chickening out of this whole ordeal. Hell, he didn’t know this man. What was he doing?

“Now, what are ya doing all the way over here. Breaking more of those rules, I see,” he said forcing Soap to take a step backwards.

Soap cleared his throat, voice coming out surprisingly steady. “Well, I figured I would congratulate the winner.”

“That so?” he asked with a tilt to his head.

Soap took a step forward in a random burst of boldness. Now or never.

“Aye, I also think I owe ye a debt,” he punctuated by grabbing the hat off the man’s head and placing it upon his own.

Soap wasn’t sure if it was the passing headlights from the sea of cars and trailers behind them, but he swore Ghost’s eyes flashed at his words. He leaned down in a mirror image of their earlier interaction, a strained “Follow me,” was spoken in his ear.

Soap let out a deep breath as he watched the man walk away. Not ashamed to admit he enjoyed watching him as he did so. Fuck. This was happening.

They walked through a dirt and gravel lot off to the side of the arena. Soap observed the ranchers loading the livestock back into trailers under the parking lot lights as they passed through.

They ended up on the outer edge of the lot, the closest light post was a few cars down so it wasn’t overly bright where they were. Soap nearly missed it when Ghost turned a corner around a large parked trailer.

He followed suit, unable to stop the embarrassing yelp that left his mouth as he was thrown against the side of said trailer. All thoughts of cursing the man out disappeared when Ghost’s lips were crashing against his. The initial impact had him grunting, the sounds immediately swallowed by Ghost’s domineering mouth.

Soap couldn’t breathe, and normally he wouldn’t have any complaints about the matter given the situation, but he was starting to get lightheaded. He reached his hands up, gripping onto that leather vest and regretfully pushed the man off of him. He gasped at the separation, greedily filling his lungs at the first opportunity.

“Air, air is good,” he wheezed out.

The bastard huffed a laughed right in Soap’s face. Between the night sky and Soap’s racing mind, he hadn’t quite registered that Ghost had taken off the bandana from earlier. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, just barely making out the details of the face currently six inches from his own.

He was fucking beautiful.

Soap didn’t need sunlight to come to that conclusion. He had strong features; a Roman nose that had clearly been broken one too many times and never healed quite right, full lips that had a small scar running across the bottom as if it had been split in a fist fight and never got the proper stitches. He had another scar going from his chin to his neck, the moonlight illuminating the silvery healed skin that was no doubt part of an impressive collection.

Soap couldn’t help the heat rushing to his face when he realized how blatantly he’d been checking out the other man. To his credit, Ghost just stood there; not saying a word while letting him have his fill.

His attention drifted back to reality when a wave of lights and shadows danced across their faces as a car drove by. Soap unconsciously grabbed onto Ghost’s vest, pulling him onto himself while trying to melt into the trailer out of fear of getting caught.

“Relax,” Ghost whispered.

His mouth moved down to Soap’s jaw, kissing his way across his flushed skin until he reached his ear. Soap couldn’t help the full body shutter that racked through him as the man licked up the shell of his ear before biting down on the tender cartilage.

He turned his face slightly to the right in a poor attempt at stifling his moan in Ghost’s shoulder as the other slotted his knee right between his legs.

Fuck. He hadn’t realized just how hard he was before Ghost started grinding against him.

The friction was almost unbearable, just the right amount of pain to still be pleasurable but still not enough. “More,” he groaned out. All reservations about sounding too desperate were out the door, he needed this man. Now.

Ghost turned his head to stare directly at Soap with a smirk plastered on that stupidly handsome face.

“Needy little thing, aren’t ya?” he teased.

He didn’t even give Soap time to defend himself before he was reaching down to undo his belt buckle and slide his hand down Soap’s boxers.

“Fuuuck,” Soap hissed out as Ghost gripped his cock with those rough and calloused hands. Every twist of the man’s wrist had a jolt of pleasure shooting up Soap’s spine. His hand had felt like a branding iron, scorching to the touch and Soap had no complaints over the claim.

He was full on panting now. The only air he could manage to get was what Ghost allowed him when his lips granted reprieve.

Soap was gradually nearing his breaking point. He normally would have been embarrassed for not lasting longer, but he decided to give himself a break when he’d been sporting a semi nearly the entire second half of the event. No thanks to the bastard who currently had his tongue shoved down his throat.

Soap hadn’t even realized the involuntary bucking of his hips, his body’s feeble attempt to get off. The shallow thrusts got quicker, insinuating his building release. Just as Soap was about to reach that blissful moment he had been craving all night, Ghost snatched his hand away and removed them from Soap’s pants entirely.

“Oh, you fuckin’ bastard,” Soap spat out at the other man.

Ghost stood straight before clicking his tongue. “We have a debt that needs paid now don’t we, darling?” he cooed at Soap who did his best to not let the pet name affect him too much.

Soap groaned in frustration. “Then hurry the fuck up cause I’m not gonna last much longer, ya fucker,” he growled out.

Ghost shook his head at him. “Ya sure do have a mouth on ya,” he stated.

“Aye, ye can do something about it next time.” Soap didn’t really care that he just left an opening for this to occur again, mind too preoccupied on the fact his balls felt like they were about to explode.

Ghost had that smug look back on face as he reached into his pocket for something. He pulled out a set of black keys and pressed a button, the black truck behind him flashing its lights twice before he put them back.

“Are ye kidding me? Your car was here the whole time?,” Soap whined.

“Sounds an awful lot like complaining, mate. Not a fan of being watched, are ya?” Ghost taunted. The way he talked to Soap like he was a child was some fucked up mix of extremely hot and infuriating.

Soap glared at the man. “Get the fuck in the back seat. Now.”

Despite Ghost narrowing his eyes, Soap didn’t leave any room for argument and the other man complied with no further complaints.

Ghost climbed into the back of the truck, spreading out across the seats with his hands resting behind his head as he looked at Soap. Well, didn’t he just look like the cat who got the cream.

God, he was fucking hot.

Soap climbed in after him without another word. With the door closed, the lights in the truck went out and the space was filled with darkness once again. Soap was straddling the man’s massive thighs, nearly hanging off the edge. It was cramped, barely any room to move but he would make it work. Had to make it work.

“Just gonna sit there and look pretty, darling?,” Ghost snarked, breaking the silence.

“Oh, fuck off,” Soap replied with no real heat. He reached out to undo Ghost’s belt, hoping the way his throat bobbed at the clear outline in the man’s pants wasn’t visible in the moonlight. Good lord he was massive. That earlier apprehension started to slowly creep back in and wash away his false confidence.

Ghost made another one of those clicking sounds with his tongue that had Soap freezing his movements. When he looked up into the man’s eyes, he couldn’t help the way his stomach flipped. Ghost had a way of looking at him that sent every warning bell and nerve in his body off like a crack of lightning. Like a predator finally catching his prey after having it in its sights for too long.

“Get undressed,” Ghost demanded.

Normally, Soap would put up a fight just to be an ass, but he didn’t have much fight left in him at this point. He was so on edge, so close to finally getting off he was honestly scared what he would do just to make it happen. With nothing more than a roll of his eyes in complaint, he started undoing the buttons of his shirt. It was only a matter of minutes before Soap was spread across the man’s lap in the back seat, completely naked.

He felt like his brain was melting. There shouldn’t have been something so hot about the fact he was completely naked and bare while Ghost hadn’t even removed so much as his hat during all this. He could feel the rough denim on the sensitive skin of his thighs, the cold buckle from the man’s belt when he leaned forward just an inch. Soap wasn’t even ashamed when he realized he had been slowly grinding himself against the man, anything to ease his burning desire.

Ghost finally spoke up, but Soap didn’t even stop his movements. “What’s your name?” he asked with that low and rough voice. Soap’s own ego was slightly stroked, he could hear the strain in the man’s voice despite the calm demeanor he was trying to convey.

“John, but most people call me Soap,” he breathed out. He was two seconds away from ripping the clothes off this man himself.

“Soap? What kind of nickname is that?”

“Says the man called Ghost?” he quipped back.

“Alright, I’ll give ya that one. Why don’t you go on and get yourself ready for me, darling?,” he asked, but they both knew it was another command.

Soap couldn’t help the pointed stare he threw at the man. “Ye gonna make me do all the work, is that it?”

Ghost’s lopsided smile was answer enough. “I’m not the one who picked up the hat, Johnny.”

Johnny.

Fuck, why was that so hot to hear coming from his mouth? He really needed to get this thing moving.

Soap held his fingers out in front of the man’s mouth. When all he got was a questioning look in response, he rolled his eyes and pushed them against his lips. “Suck,” was all he said, patience wearing thin now.

Ghost opened his mouth slowly, letting Soap glide his fingers over his tongue. They were probably dirty as hell, covered in germs and popcorn butter but he didn’t really care at this point. The bastard would live.

He was mesmerized as he watched Ghost work his tongue across his fingers. His mouth was hot, but nothing compared to the flames dancing across his skin as Ghost never lost eye contact during the whole ordeal. He could probably cum from this alone.

Before that thought became reality, Soap pulled his hand back. Watching the string of spit connecting his fingers to Ghost’s mouth glisten in the moonlight.

He cursed lowly as he gripped himself in one hand, rising slightly before reaching around. He entered himself without a fuss, moaning at the friction as he slid his fingers in further. It burned a little, Ghost’s spit only helping ease the way so much. He preened like a peacock when he felt, more like heard, the other man’s sharp inhale below him.

He started moving with a little more urgency at that, opening himself up while rocking his body back and forth. He wasn’t overly moaning like a whore, but he wasn’t exactly trying to hold back anything either. Quite enjoying the sharp little intakes of air and jerky movements of the man beneath him. He managed to get up to three fingers before he found that particular spot inside him. This time, his moans might have been a little porn starry. Ghost finally lifted his hands at that, gripping onto Soap’s hips like he was his lifeline.

Soap wasn’t having any of that. He swatted the man’s hands away, pushing down on his chest with the hand not currently inside him when Ghost tried to protest. “No touching,” he scolded, taking great pleasure in the frustrated look on his face.

Ghost grunted in response, like a damn toddler who didn’t get his way. “Awww,” Soap cooed at him, “Needy little thing, aren’t ye?” he said, throwing the other man’s words against him.

Ghost narrowed his eyes at that, but didn’t complain any further. “Funny.”

“I’d like to think so,” Soap replied.

This time, when he went to undo Ghost’s belt, he wasn’t met with any resistance. With quick movements, he had Ghost pulled out in no time. Fucking hell. Massive was an understatement. It took everything in Soap to school his emotions. He wasn’t letting this bastard know how intimidated and equally impressed he was. He must have done a shit job cause Ghost had that satisfied, smug look back on his face. He could probably read minds for all he knew.

Soap gave a few quick pumps to Ghost’s cock before he lined himself up. He froze just as the other man was about to enter him.

“The hat,” he said. It took a while before Ghost could tear his eyes away from where Soap hovered over his cock, the words finally registering before he reached up and placed his hat on Soap’s sweat-slicked mohawk.

They were both burning up, feeling like a damn sauna in the backseat of the truck. The windows had fogged up a while ago as they swapped air in the small space, thankfully providing a thin form of privacy.

Soap smiled as he adjusted the hat with one hand, the other still lining Ghost up as he slowly lowered himself down.

Fuck.

They both moaned in chorus as Soap’s still too-tight heat enveloped Ghost’s cock. He sunk lower and lower at a glacial pace, letting gravity do the work and take some of the strain off his shaky legs.

He bottomed out eventually, resting on Ghost’s hips as he caught his breath. Ghost was panting below him, chest heaving as his body was strung tight with tension. Soap knew the man was dying to take control. Too fucking bad.

When Soap’s world wasn’t spinning anymore, he lifted himself back up before repeating the process all over again while setting a steady pace. He wasn’t going very fast, but he didn’t really need to. Ghost was so big that he reached all the spots he needed him too, the stretch and burn sending bolts shooting up his spine was enough for him.

He gripped tightly onto Ghost’s leather vest with his right hand, his own make shift bull rope as his left held onto the black hat resting on his head. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Ghost, but he still had to lean and bend at a weird angle to fit in the cramped space. He started to pick up a little speed, his movements mimicking Ghost’s from when he rode the bull earlier. Soap snapped his own hips back and forth, occasionally grinding down in a circular motion that had Ghost groaning unabashedly.

He wasn’t normally one to be overly cocky, but he basked in the satisfaction of ruining this man. That calm and collected demeanor washed away by the panting, barely held back animal beneath him. Hell, he was equally just as ruined. He couldn’t contain the little punched out moans that escaped every time Ghost hit his prostate on each rock backward. He wouldn’t last a minute longer and judging by the shaking man before him, he wasn’t the only one.

“S-Simon, pleaaase,” Soap groaned out between moans. He tried to convey everything he was thinking and wanted in that one word. Ghost being the mind reader he was picked up on it without dropping a beat. Like he was waiting for it.

He immediately grabbed onto Soap’s hips with enough force to bruise. Fuck, Soap wished they would. With one last glance at the man below him, Soap closed his eyes as Ghost started jackhammering into him. The car was a symphony of curses, moans, and grunts. Neither man holding back now. Soap removed his hand from the hat and pushed it against the ceiling, trying desperately to find purchase and not fall over. The rough movements had the sweat from his forehead running down his face, beads dropping onto Ghost’s chest off his nose and chin. He couldn’t find a single fiber of his being that cared.

His end was nearing and he wasn’t going to deny it this time. “Fuuuck, don’t s-stop,” he moaned as Ghost abused his prostate at the angle they were in. If Ghost decided now was a good time to tease the man, Soap would probably end up committing murder.

He could tell Ghost was almost at his breaking point as well. The man’s thrusts started to become wild, losing all sense of coordination as he chased his release. Soap screamed out when Ghost lifted his hand off his hip and grabbed his cock, pumping it in an off beat against his thrusts, never allowing Soap a second of reprieve from overwhelming sensation.

“Go on, cum for me, Johnny,” he rasped out. Who was Soap to deny him?

Soap’s whole body seized as Ghost slammed into that bundle of nerves harder than he’d done all night. It felt like lightning was shooting through his body as his vision whited out. He didn’t even feel bad that he made a mess all over Ghost’s vest, too blissed out to even care. Ghost lasted around three and a half thrusts more before he was following Soap over the edge as well, cursing his name as he did. It was the best thing Soap had ever heard in his life. He responded with a groan as he felt Ghost empty out inside him. The feeling making his own spent cock twitch in response. Round two was not an option currently on the table. Soap felt like rolling over on the floor right there and taking a twenty hour nap after this. He didn’t think Ghost would mind very much.

They sat there for a few minutes, chests heaving and skin sweaty where they were still connected. Soap started looking around, his eyes scanning the man’s truck before he found what he was looking for in the center console. He popped the lid off and held it between his teeth as he unzipped Ghost’s soiled vest and unbuttoned his shirt. He ignored the curious eyes watching his movements. With the man’s chest now bear, Soap moved the marker to scribble out his number in his chicken scratch. He pulled back, looking down at his work with a satisfied expression as he capped the marker and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Give me a call next time you’re in town, cowboy,” he said as he slowly raised himself off of Ghost’s softening cock.

He wasn’t sure if the man had even heard him. His attention drawn to where he pulled out of Soap, his cum slowly starting to drip down his thighs. It was gonna be an uncomfortable ride home. He glanced around and grabbed his discarded clothes, doing his best to put them back on in the limited space. Ghost just sat there watching him, lounging across his backseat without a care in the world.

Soap finally managed to put his shoes back on, pulling out his phone and ordering an Uber ride. He turned down Ghost’s offer to drive him home, he needed to get away from the man so his brain wasn’t mush anymore. With one last glance around, he leaned over Ghost on his knees.

“Ye know, I like this hat. I think it’s mine now,” he stated.

“That so?” Ghost asked as he looked up at Soap.

“Yeah, it’s mine. Ye know what that means?”

“What?” Ghost responded, genuinely curious.

Soap lifted up the hat before lowering down, placing it back onto Ghost’s head as he whispered low in his ear. “Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”

Soap didn’t say anything else as he exited the vehicle. The smile was uncontrollable as he walked across the gravel lot back to the car pick up zone.

A man with a short circuiting brain laid in the backseat of his car behind him.

#ghostsoap #ghostxsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #bull riding au #bull rider Ghost

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destinyisastar · 2 months ago

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Lost in your Love pt 2

read here for: pt 1

Summary: It's been seven years since you've been with Vox, what will occur on this hellish day?

Vox x Wife reader (Alastor x reader)

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Hell’s morning red hue shines through your window as you twist yourself beneath the covers on your bed. You reach hand out to your left but are meant with an empty space.

You sit up stretching your arms and look around your bedroom searching for your lover.

There's a piece of paper on your nightstand you grab it, yawning.

“Had an early morning meeting, I’ll see you later this afternoon, buy yourself something nice sweetheart 💕.

-Vox”

Giggling you get yourself ready for the day. You head into the bathroom looking into the mirror “Today’s going to be a good day!”

You decided to pick out a dark blue dress with white short sleeves, Vox asked Velvette to make it specially for you.

“What should I do today?” You walk over to your shelf, “No I have enough books, oh wait….” You walk over to Vox’s closet and pull out his most recent tux. He recently had an argument with Valentino, which lead the moth to scratch him, therefore ripping his tux.

“I’ll go to the tailor!” You know you can ask Velvette to patch it up but she’s more busy than ever with an upcoming fashion show.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

As you exit the building, you can hear the hellish screams of sinners being tossed about.

Humming to yourself, you spot a camera and walk towards it blowing a kiss to the screen, you know that vox is always watching you, even if he can’t be there physically. You like feeling protected, knowing that your husband cares for you.

A ding from your phone stops your humming.

“Don’t be out for too long, love you❤️”

You feel all giddy, you’ve never felt more loved.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Finally, you made your way into the Tailors shop.

“Hello! There’s a couple of rips here and there, do you think you could repair it?” You ask the owl sinner.

The sinner trembles, “Yes, o-of course I can give me a m-moment.” The owl takes the tux and goes toward the backroom.

There are a couple of seats, so you take one and pull out your book from your purse and flip through the pages to find the chapter you left off on. You take note that there seems to be a big commotion going on outside, but you don’t pay any mind.

The bell from the door rings, signaling that a new customer has walked in.

You don’t bother looking up, but you feel the presence ,a static like sound, of someone standing right in front of you.

You don’t move because why would anyone mess with Vox’s Wife?

“Y/n?” The voice sounds like a radio, no…. it can’t be… it can’t be the radio demon?!

You immediately look up.

The presence you felt was indeed The Radio Demon. The demon whose been missing for seven years.

What does he want with you? Is he planning to kill you? Does he want your soul?

You start to breathe rapidly, clutching your hand to your heart, “What do you want with me!?” You reach for your phone in your purse.

“Darling, calm down its just me.” Alastor the Radio Demon tells you calmly. “I’ve been looking for you.” He moves towards you even closer, but you shoot up from your seat making him back away, startled.

“NO! Stay away from me!” You start backing away from the demon, making your way slowly towards the door.

Just before you can turn the knob the Radio Demon grabs your hand.

“Y/n, my love what are you doing? Why are you running away from me?” His radio voice is turned off.

You feel yourself trembling, “Please! P-please don’t hurt me! I won’t tell my husband that you were here! Let me go!”

Alastor lets go of your hand and you rush out the door.

You can see Vox on the television screens, he seems to be in a rage. The phone in your hand starts to vibrate rapidly.

“Y/n where are you babe?”

“Y/n?”

“Y/n come back home.”

“I’m not playing around.”

“Get home now”

More messages start to pour in from assistants to Velvette and even Valentino.

Whatever the Radio Demon did had stopped all services from your phone.

You run back to V Tower.

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Alastor watched as you ran out of the tailor shop his mind seemingly blank.

His signature smile stretches even further up his face.

‘My Husband’

What did you mean by that?

Alastor was your husband.

No, is your husband.

Why are you afraid of him?

◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈

Give me your thoughts is it good? is it bad? critique my work please! (sorry if it seems short)

destinyisastar 2024

taglist: @songbirdpond @diffidentphantom @ginny-higgins

Word Count: 759

#alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel

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satorusugurugurl · 3 months ago

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Power Outage

Summary: When your office building looses power, you get a surprise visit from your boyfriend who finds toy there alone!

Characters: Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: making out, public smexy stuff, oral sex fingering, language, (a little doctor play if you squint)

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I missed my modernau!sukuna so there's a fix no one asked for while I try to finish these last few requests. Its super busy the first of the month for me at work, but I'm getting my fics finished! 🤪 (my modern!au Suluna is markwe in other fics I love him)

“Ugh!” You groaned, moving the computer mouse in lazy circles and glancing at the black screen in front of you, “Why do I always volunteer to do stupid shit?” You asked no one, seeing that you were the only one left in the office.

It was the end of summer, but the head was still scorching, making your office with no power stifling hot. The blackout had happened two hours ago, and there was no clue how long it would take to return. Everyone was bitching and complaining about how hot it was. Instead of listening to the neverending complaining, your boss sent everyone home while she waited for the electrician to show up.

The only problem was that your manager was pregnant and about to pop. So it didn't make any sense for her to stay and wait. So you made the foolish decision to stay there for her instead. Your boyfriend Sukuna was picking you up, and you didn't have your train pass, so you didn't have much choice. But as sweat began to bead on your forehead, you started questioning if you had made the wrong decision, but you knew deep down it was the right choice.

Karma might reward you for your good behavior after she kicked your ass all morning. You overslept, didn't have time to grab your lunch, left your train pass at home, and ran off a couple of hours of sleep thanks to good old insomnia. But maybe it wasn't karma; perhaps it was just your rotten luck. Whether it was luck or karma, you were still a sweating, suffering mess.

“Sukuna’s gonna be pissed,” You said to yourself, twirling around in your computer chair and staring at the clock on the wall. “He‘s always telling me to stop volunteering to do stuff; I really need to start listening to him more.”

You could practically see the disappointment on his tattooed face. Not only were you burning up, but you were starving, running off of nothing, but the remains of coffee from the breakroom rested in the pot of your stomach. Yeah, maybe you should have told her to have the electrician call her when he was on the way because this was torture.

“I'm starving,” Your voice echoed off the walls of the empty waiting room. You had no clue why, and it wasn't like there was anyone out there to care for you. But would that stop you from complaining? Hell no.

Just as you began twirling around in your seat for the thousandth time, the bell to the front door jingles. “Oof!” Fearing it was your boss, you attempted to make it look like you were busy unwrapping syringes, but you twirled in your chair so fast that you ended up falling back with a loud thud. “Owww.” You groaned, rubbing your head as a tall figure loomed over the front desk.

“Kitten?” The familiar deep voice asked. He leaned further over the edge. “What the hell are you doing?” Looking up at familiar crimson eyes, you blew your hair out of your face, smiling at your boyfriend.

“Thank God it’s just you, Sukuna. I thought for sure you were my boss.” Sukuna hopped over the desk, helping you off the horrid multicolored carpet. “Thanks,” you groaned, releasing your grip on his hand. What brings you here to the dark office of boredom?” Your boyfriend scoffed, shaking his head as he held a bag out to you, one covered with grease stains.

“I came to your rescue, " he smirked, placing the bag on the desk in front of you. “Choso texted me that you left your bento box in the fridge. And since my last client canceled, I figured I’d bring you by some food before I went home.”

“Choso, you gothy little angel. How I adore you.” Opening the bag without hesitation, your stomach growled in pleasure at the smell of food. “And I love you, Kuna, thanks.”

“Of course, baby.” Humming in response, you took a burger from the bag, plopping it on your desk and licking your lips, “So where’s everyone else? And why are all the lights out?” Sukuna asked as you took a big bite out of the burger

“Power outage. No one wanted to sit in the head and wait with our very pregnant manager, so I offered to stay.” You wiped your mouth with a napkin. “And before you say anything, I was doing the right thing.” Your boyfriend laughed, sitting on the ledge of the desk watching you.

“At least you're honest about it.”He grinned, pursing his lips together. “Why didn't you text me? My voice could have made your time alone much more entertaining.”

Entertaining; what the hell did he mean by that? “What?” you coughed into your shirt as Sukuna grabbed your hand and looked at it. “Sukuna, what do you think I could have done while here at work? Do you honestly think I would call you for ‘entertainment’ while on the clock?”

“Oh, don't play coy. We could have sexted each other or sent nasty voice memos to each other.”

You took a drink of water, laughing, “Oh yeah, Sukuna, I'd rub one out while here at my desk.” Your boyfriend’s eyebrows rose in shock.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Of course, I’m joking!.” You laughed, turning your gaze to focus on looking at him while you ate, “I would never do something like that here at work.”

“Is that so?”

The burger suddenly doesn't taste that good in your mouth as you eye your boyfriend skeptically. “Yes.” you pointed a french fry at the mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. “Don't even think about it.”

”What? I didn't say anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest

“You don't have to say anything; it's written all over your face.”

“Having sex at your workplace was on your bucket list.”

You felt the heat across your cheeks as you took another bite of your burger. That was something you had drunkenly confessed to wanting, but you had never been given a chance to have sex in your office. You and Sukuna had done it several times at his office, and that was different because everyone knew Sukuna at the tattoo parlor. That was the sort of behavior they expected from him.

You, on the other hand, were employed for a doctor's office. To have sex in your office would be a new, thrilling adventure. But the consequences could be great, especially if they caught you on camera. But there was something in your boyfriend's eyes that had you feeling just as mischievous as he looked.

What was it people were always saying? You only live once?

You didn’t say anything; all you did was grab him by the collar of his leather jacket. His eyes widened as you pulled him down to you, kissing him deeply and passionately. He was clearly taken by surprise at your sudden actions because it took him only seconds to grab both sides of your face and kiss you back. His lips moved hungrily against yours, and his teeth nipped at your bottom lip.

“Mhmm,” you moaned, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to slide in. As his tongue slowly slid against yours, your fingers tightened on his jacket as his tongue fought for dominance in your mouth.

“What’s this, Kitten?” Sukuna growled, lifting you out of the computer chair and placing you on his lap on the countertop. “What happened to not suggesting such a scandalous thing?” He moved his thick fingers into your hair, forcing your head to the side as he began nipping and trailing hot, opened-mouth kisses down your neck.

“I-I guess I’m feeling adventurous.”

You tilted your head back with a heavy sigh, allowing him more access to your sensitive skin. Sukuna always had a way of making you melt. He knew you; god, he knew you like the back of his hand. Where to touch you, how you loved him nipping and biting your ears. Every inch of his hands grazing your breasts, to how he gripped your sides had you shaking, panties soaked in anticipation. Every move made you gasp in pleasure. It was like his fingers were sending electric shocks and shivers down your spine, causing you to rub your thighs together, searching for sweet release. With every passing second, you felt yourself growing wetter and wetter. The silky wetness usually would have left you embarrassed with how turned on you were, but you didn't give a fuck right now.

“S-Sukuna,” You whispered against his kiss-swollen lips. The breathless tinge of your voice had your boyfriend groping your breasts harder, massaging them through your scrub top. The entire time his hands pleasured your chest, his crimson eyes remained glued on you, so focused on the way he was making you feel.

“Baby, you sound so needy~ it reminds me of the closet at Gojo’s when we first met.” You shivered at the memory of Seven Minutes in Heaven with a man who’d been a mutual acquaintance. Long story short, Seven Minutes turned into a very steamy make-out session in Gojo’s room, which both were now banned from. Sukuna’s hands sliding up your scrub top drew you back to reality. He pushed it up just enough to expose your bra. “It makes me wanna recreate that moment, maybe in an examining room~ we could play doctor.” His voice was thick with need as he pulled the thin fabric of your bra down, exposing your breasts. “What do you say, nurse~? Will you let me examine this perfect tit?” his lips took hold of one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it. You gasped loudly, gripping his short strand of pink hair and tugging on it.

“Yes Dr. Sukuna~”

“Ooh fuck, I like the sound of that.”

Moans trailed out of your mouth as his tongue continued to tease your sensitive nipple. His sharp canines gently grazed it as you gave a rough tug on his hair as you cried out. That action had your boyfriend moaning around the nub as he continued to nibble on it. This was so hot, being the best at work, grinding, and having your boyfriend tease you. More heat began to pool in your panties, your body craving more of Sukuna. You needed him more than you ever had before. Soft moans escaped you as you began rocking your hips against his denim jeans, resulting in him moaning in satisfaction at the friction.

A wet pop echoed off the walls of the empty lobby as Sukuna pulled off your breast. “Fuck,” He snarled as his hand found its place on your hips, holding them in as you rocked harder against him. You could feel an orgasm beginning to build within you.

Seeing how close you were left, Sukuna smirked as he rocked you faster against his bulge, causing you to moan louder in ecstasy. You just needed a little more, and luckily, Sukuna knew exactly what to do. His right hand left your hip as he slid it down your exposed stomach, tugging your scrub pants down to your midthigh. Those devilishly talented tattooed fingers slipped under the hem of your scrub pants, resting at the front of your lace panties. The second he made contact with your wet panties, he growled against your ear. His middle finger began tracing slow circles over your clothed clit, resulting in you bucking your hips.

“Kitten, you're soaked~”

“I-I need m-more Sukuna.” He nodded, placing your back on the computer chair and looking down the hall to the examination rooms. ”We should lock the door for —” Just as the words left your mouth, a cool air hit your bare thighs, your cell phone rang.

“Shit fuck, What’s my boss gonna say?!” You quickly pulled your bra up and your shirt back down.

“Lucky girl?”

Sukuna chimed in with a smirk before you started smacking his chest and shoved him under your desk. “J-Just shut up!” With a deep sigh, you sat up straight, trying to compose yourself as you answered the phone.

“Hello Hun.” On the other line, your boss said in a chipper tone, “I thought I'd call to check on you.” You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it as Sukuna pulled your panties to the side, dragging his pierced tongue over your clit.

“Nngh—I-I’m doing fine, Boss.” You stuttered as Sukuna smirked. He kept licking the bundle of nerves,s“My goodness dear, are you okay?” one of your hands held your phone while the other gripped the armrest of your chair as Sukuna took your clit in his mouth, sucking at it like candy.“Sweetie, are you okay?” You quickly covered your mouth, moaning into it as your boss kept talking. ”Are you sick? Oh my god, you’re getting too hot, aren't you? Fuck, the AC is out.”

Sukuna's mouth expertly sucked on your clit. “I-I yeah! Yeah, it’s s-suuuper h-hot!” You shakily responded as Sukuna began sliding his tongue up and down your wet throbbing slit. Fuck, this was hard; it was taking everything in your power not to continue to moan. You tried not to give her any ideas that your boyfriend was currently going down on you. Which was harder than expected, especially when Sukuna’s tongue teased your entrance, the fill of the metal stud sending shivers down your spine.

“You know what, I’m going to have the patience come out tomorrow! I'm going to call your boyfriend to come pick you up. I don't want you to walk if you're overheated. I want you to take the rest of the day off, okay? What was your boyfriend's name again? So I can call your emergency contact.” The second she asked this, Sukuna took it as an opening to shove two of his thick fingers inside you, causing you to launch forward, gripping his hair.

“S-Sukuna!” you gasped shakily, looking down at the smug bastard. “R-Ryomen Sukuna.” Your boss placed you on hold as you sat there whimpering.

Not even three seconds later, Sukuna roared against your sex as his fingers moved deeper inside of you, pumping faster. Several seconds passed, and he continued his pace. He was doing this when his phone started ringing. and he let it ring twice before he answered it, looking up at you as he did.

“This is Sukuna,” He groaned as he dragged his tongue along the soaked folds of your pussy, sending your hand shooting up to cover your mouth as your boss came through the other line. “ooh no, oh my poor baby.” Sukuna cooed as he sucked relentlessly on your clit, causing your toes to curl as you felt your orgasm approaching. “Oh, of course,” he pulled completely away, leaving you groaning in protest as he kissed and nipped at your inner thigh, “I’m on my way right now. Thank you for letting me know.”

“K-Kuna—” You whimpered as he grabbed your hips, bringing your cunt back to his mouth, making you mewl in pleasure as you heard a rustling on the other line.

“Hun, Sukuna’s on the way to pick you up now, dear. Do you need me to stay on the line with you until then?”

You shook your head as if she could see you while you bucked your hips forward, grinding against Sukuna's mouth, making him grunt in pleasure, “N-no, I-I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I-I’m positive, h-he’s nearby!”

“Okie dokie hun. Thank you for staying; enjoy your weekend, and lock up when your boyfriend arrives, okay?”

As soon as Final goodbyes were exchanged and the line was hung up, Sukuna went crazy. You covered your mouth, stifling the scream as he pumped three fingers inside you, curling them up against your g-spot. All the while, his mouth continued to suck on your bundle of nerves as he looked up at you with hungry, narrowed eyes. The desperation in his eyes left you gasping and moaning, trying to push your thighs together around his head as the coil in your abdomen tightened.

“F-Fuck~ Kuna!” You gritted through your teeth as Sukuna forced your legs open, moving his fingers and mouth at the same fast pace. It was no surprise you came right after that. You screamed into your hand as Sukuna lapped up and down your opening with his tongue as you gushed over his tongue. You leaned back in your chair, panting roughly as your boyfriend finally released you from his grasp. He slowly licked his lips, smirking up at you as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Mmm, tasty as always, Kitten.” He said smugly, pushing your chair back, freeing him from under the desk. He leaning up, kissing you roughly. And thanks to me, you have the rest of the day off.” You kissed back, running your hands through his soft tufts of hair before he stood up. He smirked down at you as you readjusted your clothes.

“I may have the rest of the day off,” you giggled between deep breaths, running your hand down his well-built chest, “but you're in for a long shift tonight ‘Dr. Kuna~”

Sukuna grinned like the Cheshire cat humming in response, “Will it require overtime, Nurse~?” You smirked up at him, grabbing your bags.

“Oh, lots of overtime, doctor~.” You squealed as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. You gasped as his hand slapped you on the ass as hard as he could.

“Well fuck,” he smirked, grabbing your saddle bag and turning the lights off, “let's get your sweet ass home, STAT, nurse. I need to thoroughly examine you.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

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dreamy-diva · 5 months ago

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Pov: when your arranged marriage husband finds you reading smut manga....

Tags: fem!reader, Nanami x reader, arranged marriage, makes you cum again after again, unprotected, smut

Your parents forced you to marry a normal salaryman guy named Nanami Kento, you didn't even bother to say otherwise because you knew your parents didn't give a fuck about your opinions. You thought him to be just an average looking guy but when you actually saw him, your jaw dropped.

He got that jawline face, muscled body, just perfect. It's been some days since you married him but being shy and introverted, you can't even look him in his eyes when he is talking. He often catches you staring at him down there and you just look away so smoothly. You have such an innocent face that no one can imagine what goes in your pretty head. You are reading a smut manga named 'My husband keeps me awake whole night' with the description on the poster 'big dick deep inside me', the male lead exactly looks like Nanami and yes that's why you are reading this manga.

You got in the shower, placing your phone on the table. Just then Nanami got back home from his work and sat down on the sofa, the notification bell beeped, screen lightened your phone saying 'my husband keeps me awake whole night is updated'. He saw the manga poster and description, his mouth parted, eyes darted.

You came from the shower and saw Nanami standing arms crossed against his chest, holding your phone. Why the hell is he has my phone, you thought. You were just about to say when he cornered you to the wall, not giving you space.

"I didn't know that you read these kinds of stuff, wifey", showing you the manga cover, "big dick deep inside me, wait isn't he looking like me", his eyebrow furrowed questioning you.

You thought of many excuses but no you should say the truth, he is your husband after all. "Yes I ..read these , and so what huh if he looks like you", you said nervously, not looking at him. "Is that so, how many fantasies you got there in your head,let me listen, I can fulfill them",he whispered in your ears, your heartbeat increasing, eyes dilating.

"Do you wanna see if it's not just my face that resembles him?", he smirked looking down at you. This literally made your knees weak, you nodded to his question. "I knew it, it's always the innocent faced..", he carried you in bridal style, placed you on the bed.

He kissed you so gently, gesturing you to open your mouth, his tongue inside you, basically devouring the hell out of you. He opened your shirt, unhooked your bra, his eyes darting from your face to your bosom, his tongue out licking your nipples, one of his hands on your other bosom, massaging them.

"They feel so good in my mouth", cupping them in his large hands, making you squirm, eyes closed out of embarassment. "Open your eyes, I want you to see me", his fingers making lazy circles on your lower stomach, making you moan out of pleasure.

"I think I'm gonna....", you covered your face,and fuck he didn't even touch you there and yet you are this sensitive. Your body trembles and you came. "You are so sensitive, sweetheart, he removes your panty, slides a finger inside your pussy, in out , up down , then two fingers thrusting inside you, making you drive crazy.

"I have already cum..hngh.. Kento", listening his name with your mouth, made him smile. "You don't want this, so you want me to stop", his fingers still inside you.

"No, ..hngh..I want ..I want you inside me", your face flushed, eyes watered, mouth parted.

"Undress me", he pulled out his fingers. Then came the realisation that he is fully clothed and you are just lying under him naked and also came.

You untied his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, unbuckled his belt, removed his pant, now comes the boxer , which you can see his hard cock itching to be free. Sliding his boxers down, his cock sprang in front of your eyes, long and thick will it fit inside you, this thought made you gulp. He was looking down at you with a smug face "Do you wanna ride it", he pinned you down.

He slides it tip up and down teasing your throbbing clit. "Please ..Kento...", you arch. "Please what", he bit your neck. "Please fuck me already".

He thrust inside you making you dizzy. His cock is so deep inside you already.

His face focused, thrusting in and out. Hitting the spot, making you squirm, moan, scream his name.

"Yes, Good girl, yes just like that... hngh... scream my fucking name, you wanted it just like this, rough and raw". You climaxed , panting, your body trembling, locking your eyes with him.

"Don't think it finished, get on your fours, now".

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #nananmi kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #nanami x you

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novemberheart · 4 months ago

Text

Thank you for the support on the last post! Here’s Chapter two!

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3

{overview} It’s move in day!

{Warnings} Female reader, poly relationship (the gay kind), light pricexghost and Gaz/Soap banter, Ghost already being a bit of a softie

The aggressive grind of the bandsaw covered the sound of approaching footsteps. Yet the tingle behind Simon’s neck was all he needed to know someone was there. He removed his foot from the pedal, shutting the machine off. He slid his safety glasses up to his head as the work shed door clanked open. He needed to grease the hinges.

“How’d it go?” He asked, leaning his back against the worktop. John shrugged, a pleased expression on his face.

“Good.” Price responded, leaning back across from him. “She seems like a good girl. It’ll only be for about a month anyway. And you know how it is, one- if not all of us will get shipped off sometime.” He sighed rubbing a hand over his face. Simon clicked his tongue in agreement.

“The boys like her?”

“I hear wedding bells.” John teased, causing both men to chuckle. “They like her.” He affirmed. “Would’ve been nice if you’d join us.” He continued slowly. John extended his leg so it pressed against Simon’s. A small action to show he meant to harm. Simon pressed further into Price, clearing his throat softly.

“Wouldn’t have mattered. Johnny already seemed hell bent on helpin’ her out, and you know if Johnnys thinkin’ it, Kyle is too.” Simon suddenly stood straight up, bending forward so his palms rested right next to John. “And you can never say ‘no’ to them.” He murmured, his cheek brushing against John’s.

Price let out a strangled gasp-laugh of sorts, his hand flattening against Simon’s chest pushing him away. “I can’t say ‘no’ to them?” He accused. “Tell me, what have you been up to in here?”

“Making another planter box for Kyle.” Simon responded quickly, a playful spark lighting up his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“I thought there was four of them?” You questioned absentmindedly, adjusting yourself so you sat on your knees. Today was move in day and Kate was helping you pack what little belongings you had. She paused, all her attention on the task at hand- folding one of your t-shirts. She has always been a perfectionist.

“Yeah there is. You haven't met Simon yet. He’s a good guy, just a bit”- she trailed off, refolding another one of your items.

“Shy?” You leant.

“Sure we’ll go with that.” She sighed.

“I thought he was the mean one.” Kate’s wife, Robin interjected from over the phone. Your eyes widened and you turned over your shoulder to look at Kate.

“No I didn’t mean that- I hadn’t even met him when I heard that. He’s not mean, I just didn’t have a word for it at the time.”

“Do you have a word for it now?” You pressed. Robin giggled from over the phone. Kate opened and closed her mouth a few times.

“No- but he’s not as mysterious and complex as he likes to think.” Kate confessed. “My advice would just be to steer clear of him, you’ll only be there for a month anyways.”

“You’re making him sound scary.” Robin whispered harshly. You nodded your head in agreement.

“He won’t do anything to you.” Kate said firmly. There were times when you forgot what Kate did for a living. You forgot the emotional and physical turmoil she goes through on a day to day basis. She was protecting Simon. Her tone shooing off any idea that he was a bad man. You wondered what it would be like to have that type of bond with someone. A bond that is forged out of otherworldly trauma. Yet, you should be grateful you don’t have a tie like that. ‘Well there’s always tomorrow’ you thought to yourself. You shook that idea away. “We should get going. Love you, Honey.” Kate held the phone up to her chin, making a kiss noise into the speaker. Robin blew a raspberry.

“Bye Aunt Ro!” You shouted.

“Bye, lovie! And good luck!”

All in all you had three boxes. You never bothered to put any money into your place, knowing the likely consequences. When you and Kate pulled up to the house, John and Jonny were waiting for you.

“That’s it?” John asked, already opening the car door.

“Yeah. You don’t have to do that. That one’s heavy”- You stopped yourself as he picked up the box with one arm supporting it.

“Nonesense bon. Can’t have the neighbors thinking we aren’t gentlemen.” Johnny grinned also lifting a box like it was full of helium.

“Thank you.” You spoke sincerely. They nodded practically jogging back to the house.

“Don’t bother with things like that. They are pains in the butt- all of them, but they do get a weird satisfaction out of lifting heavy things. And opening jars.” Kate snickered. “Help me with this one?” You and Kate made it to the porch by the time Johnny came bounding back.

“The neighbors!” He scolded. “Let me help you with that box!” He yelled, taking a quick look around like the neighbors would be judging him from their windows. You and Kate both laughed and his face beamed. “You’ve got a pretty smile, bon.” Johnny blurted.

“You too.” It came out before you could stop it. It was the truth- one that you wished you hadn’t admitted. The last thing you needed was a flirting match on your first day. He said nothing, but Kate rolled her eyes at the noticeable pep in his step.

“Here’s this.” She handed you a key card to get into the housing area. “I transferred it to your name, but it’s old and the only one I could find so it might take a few times before it opens the gate. You’ll have access to the pool, gym and the clubhouse area. John said you can borrow one of their keys for the time being.” She gave you a soft smile, before wrapping her arms tightly around your shoulders.

It suddenly dawned on you this was goodbye. She was heading back home and you were going to be here, by yourself. You winced and held her just as tight. “Be a good girl.” She whispered. You nodded your head, thanking her heavily.

“Bye boys!” She yelled through the doorway.

“You’re not staying.” Kyle spoke peering his head from around the corner. It was like the same realization dawned on them. No more Laswell= no more buffer. She shook her head, heading down the porch. You watched her as she hopped into the drivers seat. Her movements were eager. You couldn’t blame her. She missed Robin desperately.

“Everything okay?” You jumped at Kyle’s voice, but quickly threw on a smile. You couldn’t not seem grateful.

“Yeah, just going to be weird not seeing her all the time.” You took a few cautious steps into the house. Even though it would be “yours” for the next month it still felt wrong entering without a direct invitation. Kyle nodded his head in understanding.

“Ready for the rest of the tour?” He smiled, wiggling a brow at you.

Next to the dining room was a bathroom. Next to the bathroom, close to the entryway was a downstairs office, which you were politely asked not to enter. You are more than willing to comply. Past the bathroom and dinning room was the mudroom and back door. These men were active and there was evidence of almost every hobby you could think of. The backyard was breathtaking. Plush outdoor seating (handmade from wood thank you Simon), a fire pit, barbecue, another wood table with chairs for outdoor dinning and last but not least a picture perfect garden. You just wanted to sprawl out in the grass and soak up the sun. You’re sure they would let you. In the far right hand corner there was a medium sized shed, painted black. “That’s Simon’s workshop.” Kyle had explained.

Up the stairs was another “office” type room. But this one was for play- not work. An air hockey table, a projector, the largest bean bags you’ve ever seen in your life, a wall with video games, movies and boardgames.

“Can this be my room?” You pleaded.

“You can come in there whenever you want.” Kyle promised. “Me and Johnny would enjoy the company.” Your stomach fluttered at smoothness of his voice. You wished you could record it for nights you had trouble sleeping. Next to the game room was another bathroom- this time a full one with a nicely sized tub and shower combo. “This’ll be your bathroom.”

It was as carefully decorated as the rest of the house. “You’ll share it with me and Johnny. Don’t worry he’s house trained.”

“Over here is your room.” Kyle presented. “It’s the plainest room in the house, but we rarely have people over.”

It was plain, but there was still a warmth to it. The thing that caught your eyes first was the large window overlooking into your surrounding neighbors backyard. Good thing you love to people watch. Your bed was in the center of the room with a plush white comforter and equally sinkable pillows. The closet was across from the bed with a sliding door. Your boxes were placed neatly in front of the window. “Oh and.” Kyle began. He took a few steps into your room, signaling for you to follow. He shut the door, leaving the two of you alone in your new bedroom.

“Simon installed this. We told him about the break ins- hope that was okay and he took it upon himself to install this bad boy, so you’d feel more comfortable.”

It was a swing lock, one that could only be opened from the inside. A soft gasp left your throat. “That’s so kind.” You whispered.

“Don’t make too big of a deal out of it.” It was a light warning. “He gets flustered easily.” You giggled, trying to suppress the tears building up in your eyes. You wanted to meet Simon now more than ever. Laswell was right- he wasn’t mean in the slightest. Next to your bedroom was another bedroom and across from it was the master bedroom.

“There’s only three rooms?” You hummed. “I’m not stealing someone room am I?” You doubted it with how unused your room look. Kyle shifted on his feet, his hand scratching the back of his neck. Laswell must’ve not given you ‘the talk’.

“Me and Johnny share that room.” Kyle said slowly. “Cap’ and Simon share that one.” He pointed towards the master bedroom.

“Oh!” You chirped. He could tell by your face you still didn’t catch on to what he was hinting at. In your mind they were all so close anyways, why wouldn’t they share a room? He sighed, but felt like it might be better for you to catch on naturally than for him to make it sound like a big deal. I mean it wasn’t like they were going to have an orgy in front of you.

“You hungry? It’s a nice day out. Cap’ usually throws something on the Barbecue.” Kyle offered already turning towards the stairs.

“That would be alright?” You questioned slowly. Kyle’s face softened.

“Course. Besides Johnny needs a new tennis partner.”

“What happened to the old one?”

“He’s a big ol’ cheater. No one wants to play him anymore.”

As promised John was just setting up his area and Johnny was bouncing a tennis ball against the side of the house.

“You play, bon?” It was a simple question, but it felt as if he was persuading you.

“I heard you cheat.” You felt as though you could be playful with him. His eyes scrunched in challenge.

“That’s what he’s been feedin’ you, hmm? Well bon, I have never cheated a day in my life. They just can’t wrap their heads around losing every time. It’s a coping mechanism.” He smirked. John shot a glare over his shoulder and Kyle shook his head quickly.

“Liar and a cheat.” Kyle yelped dodging a neon ball.

“I’ll go easy.” Johnny had turned his attention back to you.

Your hands twisted in your shirt. “Alright.” You sighed.

He did go easy on you. A part of you wondered if he was bored, the ball bouncing back and forth between the two of you at a snails pace. Yet every time you caught his gaze his face would express there was no where else he’d rather be. Well, you’re sure that wasn’t true. He was a people person. He made whoever he was interacting with feel like they were the only person in the world. Kyle had a similar effect. Though his was less assertive. With Johnny you would get attention, but with Kyle held back just enough to where you wanted it. Even now as your eyes carefully watched the ball they couldn’t help but drift over to him, sitting in the lawn chair keeping score.

You missed the ball.

“That was a record.” Kyle boasted, clapping his hands together. “15 passes in a row.”

“What’s the score though?” Johnny insisted.

“I don’t know, mate. 29 love.” Kyle shrugged. Johnny rolled his eyes.

“You won Johnny. Don’t worry.” You soothed.

“Didn’t make it easy, bon.”

He was competitive. You wondered how many fights had to be broken up in the game room.

“Foods just about ready, Johnny go get Simon.” You perked up in your chair.

“Yes sir, yes sir.” Johnny mocked stomped off, back into the house.

“You take cheese on your burger?” John asked. Your stomach had been growling for the past fifteen minutes. You quickly nodded. “We usually have chips but someone ate them as a midnight snack.” John chided placing a large plate of burgers in the center table.

“Simon too.” Kyle muttered, getting up heading back inside the house.

“How do you like your room, honey?” John asked, closing the grill top.

“I love it. It’s like a hotel.” You beamed. John’s lips quirked up into a smile.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Thank you again. You’re doing more than just giving me a place to stay.” You didn’t go into depth, but you could tell by the way his eyes softened that he knew what you meant.

The door slid open. Kyle came out with his arms full of condiments and two bags of potato chips or “crisps” as John called them. Johnny bounded out not soon after with a jug of soda and five cups balancing in his hand.

“Drink soda, Bon?”

“Umm not usually this late. I’m a wimp when it comes to caffeine.” You admitted.

“So what do you drink?” Johnny continued.

“Uh water.” You smiled sheepishly.

“That’s a new concept to him.” Kyle chuckled.

“I’ll go get it.” You took a glass and stood up. “Do you have any filtered? If not tap is fine.”

“There’s a pitcher in the fridge.” John answered. You slid the door open once more heading past the mudroom and slightly down the hall to turn into the kitchen.

You nearly dropped your glass at the large figure leaning against the kitchen island. He wasn’t much bigger than the others, but he looked more out of place.

“Hello.” You greeted. “Simon?” You asked slowly. He was handsome. You wished this group would make a calendar. They’d be sold out in no time. He looked about the same age as John. He had a beard trimmed close to his face, leaving enough of his strong jaw on display. His nose was a bit crooked and bumpy- must come with the job. His hair was honey ginger and cropped. But the thing that caught your attention first, and held it, were his eyes. A deep chestnut color, with absolutely no emotion it made you shudder.

Your name left his lips in a gravel breath.

“Yes.” You responded in an instant. “Just came in to get some water.” You stammered. He fixed his posture so he wasn’t blocking the way to the fridge. You grabbed the pitcher, almost overflowing your cup from the speed of the water. “Thank you for my lock.” You blurted. You peaked at him from over your shoulder. Turning your body to face his felt like too much of a commitment.

“Welcome.” He replied bluntly. “Sorry that happened to you.” He added. He cleared his throat, not turning back as he headed to the backyard.

So far, so good.

Hope you liked this next chapter. I personally believe that Ghost would not wear his mask in his home- or anywhere other than on the field or when he is physically on base. A man walking around town with a skull mask is much more likely to drawn attention- which is the last thing he wants. I also believe that Simon is a ginger 🙊🧡 based off of his two seconds without his mask on. Anywayysss This description isn’t set in stone and you are always welcome to think your own thoughts 🥰

See you next time!

#captain john price #ghost x reader #poly141 #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish #x female reader #poly141 x reader #141 x reader #novemberheart #cod #cod men

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rizlowwritessortof · 6 months ago

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Take a Shot

Written for @artyandink 's Jensen-a-thon event!

Let's face it, his henley looks good on both of you...

Pairing: Dean x F. Reader

Word Count: 935

Warnings: Nothing but a little good old-fashioned sexual tension, no smut, but Dean being Dean is a warning in itself 🔥🔥🔥 (Dividers by the absolutely lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics )

The tile floor is cool on your bare feet as you walk down the hall, your mind focused on the banana pudding left in the fridge from earlier tonight. If you can’t fall asleep, you might as well eat, right?

It’s kind of nice in the bunker when everyone else is in bed, only the dim light from the night lights that are always on in all the common rooms, the quiet hum of some mysterious machinery in the background, whatever it is that keeps the power on in this place. You shiver a little, the air cool on your legs. Why bother with pants when nobody else is around, anyway?

You’re halfway through the library on your way to the kitchen when Dean’s voice makes you nearly jump out of your skin, your heart pounding hard as you whirl around to face him. He’s standing across the room, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in hand, his eyes shadowed in the half-dark. “Is that my shirt?”

“Damn it, Dean, you scared the living shit out of me!” you scold, your hand on your chest, trying to keep your heart from pounding its way free. “Why are you up? I thought you went to bed a couple of hours ago!”

An amused smile curves his lips. “Backatcha, sweetheart.”

“Well – I – I couldn��t go to sleep. So I wanted a snack.”

“Yeah, well, same here, and I wanted a drink. Mystery solved.” It’s slowly dawning on you that you’re half-dressed, and you feel the blush move up your neck, your cheeks warming as he stares you down. “You never answered me. Is that my shirt?”

You’re wearing a cream-colored henley that you may or may not have stolen – borrowed – when you were doing laundry last weekend. It’s so soft, and so big (because it’s his) and comfy, and yes, if you were being honest, you like wearing it because it belongs to him. It’s been against his skin. And you would deny that even under threat of torture.

“Yes, okay, I borrowed your shirt. And just for your information, I wouldn’t have come out here like this if I knew you were lurking around.”

“I’m not lurking. And just for your information, I don’t mind you coming out here like that.” In fact, he’s thoroughly enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. It’s soft, and it’s clinging just right to show every detail of the curves beneath – not to mention your perky nipples. No, he doesn’t really mind at all.

You can see his eyes sparkle even in the poor lighting, and you hope he can’t see your blush from where he’s standing. “Well, stop staring.” You turn your back and flounce from the room, heading to the kitchen and hoping with everything in you that the henley is covering your ass. You brush your hand back there, relieved that it is – barely – and walk resolutely to the fridge. Seriously, what the hell is he doing up, anyway?

You take the container and toss the lid into the sink, grabbing a spoon from the nearby drawer, and lean against the counter, taking a spoonful of the creamy treat and closing your eyes as it hits your tongue. So good. Totally worth a little embarrassment.

“So, you gonna share, or what?” You jump, startled again glaring up at him as he approaches.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean, could you wear a bell or something?” A thoroughly devilish grin flashes for a second, but he manages to rein it in quickly. You scoop another spoonful of the pudding, but he takes your hand in his and steers it up towards his mouth. You watch as he takes it in, those sinful lips closing around it and his eyes blinking slowly as he savors it with a soft hum. You feel your legs wobble a little, and things are clenching that should not be clenching just from watching someone eat banana pudding.

“That’s good.” He lets go of your hand, and after a couple of seconds you actually remember to take it back. You force your eyes down, but now the view is his shoulders and chest underneath another henley from his collection, this one a midnight blue, and he’s wearing sweats and his feet are bare. And you are hopelessly screwed. “Thought you were hungry,” he teases as you stand there with the empty spoon in the air, trying to remember how to breathe.

“I am – I was,” you stammer.

“Then why aren’t you eating?” He laughs softly at your defiant frown.

“Because you’re distracting me.”

“You started it.” You stare up at him, your eyes wide.

“Since when do you get distracted by me? You barely even notice me.”

“Shows how much you know.” You still stare at him skeptically, and he gnaws a bit at that plush lower lip before he continues. “Every night I walk by your door and I picture in my head what you might be wearing to bed. Some nights… well, let’s just say I really wanna open that door.”

You set the container of pudding and the spoon on the counter beside you, never taking your eyes off him. “Then why haven’t you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid you’ll tell me to get lost.”

You’re starting to smile now. “You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Dean steps up close, his hand moving to stroke over your shoulder and down, curling his fingers around your arm as he leans in, his voice rumbling in your ear. “Oh, sweetheart – I don’t miss.”

Tags for my lovelies:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

@geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel

@darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5

@melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog

@savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain

@undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie

@tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic

@kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma

@ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1

@winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @torn-and-frayed

@sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @sarcasmqueen74 @maliburenee @mrsjenniferwinchester @yeehawbitchs

@emily-winchester @hobby27 spnbaby-67 @zepskies

#take a shot #jensen-a-thon #artyandink #dean drabble #flirty!dean #no smut in this one

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happy74827 · 10 months ago

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Cool Rider

[Steve Rogers x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When another date ends in disaster, and Steve shows up in an attempt to “cheer” you up, you’re instantly against everything. But it’s Steve, and you should know by now that he never takes no for an answer.

WC: 3859

Category: Fluff

A lot of people liked my other Steve fic, so I felt inclined to make another. This time with a lot more fluff (you’re welcome @summerrivera777777).

『••✎••』

Needless to say, you were shocked when you heard the roar of a motorcycle.

You didn’t do well with dates. In your 24 years of life, you had a total of one boyfriend, and he was the absolute worst. So, in the last six months, you have been avoiding all social activities like the plague and focusing solely on yourself and your future.

That meant that you had become very comfortable being a hermit and avoiding any and all contact with other human beings. You were happy that way.

So why was a man who looked like an absolute God sitting on a motorcycle at the front door of your house?

Well, because you broke that rule a week ago.

In all fairness, the man was cute. A nerdy, awkward kind of cute. And he was a gentleman. And you were lonely.

So, when he asked you for your number, you were too lonely to turn him down. You hadn’t expected him to call, and you certainly didn’t expect him to ask you out on a date. But you also didn't think you would have the willpower to say no.

So you accepted, and it turned out to be the biggest regret of your life. The “nerd” was actually a complete dick, and after 30 minutes, you just wanted to go home. But you couldn’t because he refused to pay for the meal, so you were stuck there with him.

The worst part of the night was when he got into his car and tried to follow you home. He kept insisting that he just wanted to be a good guy and make sure that you got home safely, but you were sure that he just wanted to see where you lived and probably get in a few gropes along the way.

Luckily, you were able to lose him about three blocks from your house. It was a good thing, too, because your phone had died a couple of blocks ago, and you were afraid that if you got caught by him, you wouldn't have a way to call for help.

The next day, you made an executive decision to stay the hell away from men, with the exception of a few nice, safe friends. That was how you ended up here, seven days later, hiding in your room and ignoring your doorbell.

The bell kept ringing, and you knew that whoever was out there wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Groaning, you threw your covers off of your body and stomped towards the front door.

You threw open the door, ready to rip someone a new one, when your angry speech caught in your throat.

Steve Rogers was standing on your front porch.

He was a friend from work, to simplify a very long story. You met him two years ago when you started at SHIELD. You were a tech genius, and you worked closely with the Avengers to keep their equipment running.

Steve was always sweet and funny. You had a lot in common and were very close. After a while, you started hanging out with him and his friends, Natasha, Sam, and Bucky. It was great.

As exceptions to men go, he was definitely a big one. He was a walking god, with the physique and the looks to prove it. And here he was, on your front porch, holding keys that belonged to the motorcycle parked out front.

You looked at the motorcycle, then back to Steve, before your face went blank.

"No."

"What?"

"No."

Steve cocked an eyebrow. A smile tugged at his lips as if he were amused. "No?"

"Nope. Whatever you're trying to sell, I'm not buying."

"Why would I be trying to sell you something? I’m not even selling anything."

"It’s an expression, Steve, Jesus." You said, throwing your hands up in exasperation. Steve might’ve been your best friend, but the guy was such a 90-year-old sometimes. "If you think that I'm going to get on that thing with you, you're wrong. It's death on two wheels."

His eyes widened in surprise, a laugh bubbling in his throat. He looked over his shoulder at the bike, then back to you.

"That's... a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"I'm serious, Steve. It's not happening. I don't trust that thing, and I'm not going to die in some freak accident."

He crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his leather jacket tightening over his biceps. His smile didn't fade as he spoke, which only annoyed you more.

"It's not going to kill you. I’m quite insulted that you would think that I would put you in danger."

"You're an Avenger. You put me in danger just by existing."

His lips twitched, and you had the feeling that he was holding back a comment.

"Look," he said, leaning against the door frame. "You haven't come out with us in weeks, and I'm worried. It's not healthy to lock yourself in your house all the time. With the job we have, there's never a guarantee of tomorrow, and if I were you, I'd want to spend every day living it to the fullest."

His words caught you off guard. He was right. It had been almost two months since you had gone out with the group. You just couldn't find the motivation. You were content being at home, alone. You had gotten a little lax in your friendships, only going to work and coming straight home. And now, with the… issues… with your date, you just didn't have the heart to try again.

You could feel your resolve starting to crumble, but you tried to stay strong.

"That's a low blow, Rogers." You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. "But my answer is still no."

"You think that was a low blow?” He scoffed as he pushed himself away from the door and took a step forward.

He was so much taller than you, and his presence was overwhelming. With the added tightness of his clothing and the confidence in his eyes, it tricked your eyes into seeing him as bigger than he really was. He was big, of course, but right now, it felt like he was towering over you.

Your heart began to race, a flush spreading over your cheeks.

"You clearly never played football because if you did, you'd know that this was a real low blow."

Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You squealed, slapping your hand against his lower back. He was wearing a black shirt and jeans, and you could see the muscles ripple in his back with every step that he took. "Put me down!"

"You're going to have fun today."

"Steve! Put me down right now! I swear to God if you don't-"

"You'll what?" He laughed, the deep rumble making your stomach flutter. "Punish me?"

You huffed as you pounded on his back with your fist. You weren't mad at him, really; you just didn't know how to respond.

Steve practically dragged you outside. You were sure that you looked ridiculous, but you were thankful that you lived far enough away from your neighbors for no one to witness this. When he finally set you down next to the motorcycle, you gave him a glare.

"You're an ass, Steve Rogers."

He gave you a smirk as he swung his leg over the bike, his leather jacket tightening around his arm as his muscles flexed. Personally, you hated leather, but the way it fit him...

"Steve, I’m not wearing the right clothes."

He was quiet as his eyes swept over you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top since it was the middle of summer and you were hot, but he was looking at you like you were covered head to toe in leather.

"We can go buy something and change in the bathroom or something."

He seemed to think for a moment before he gave a single nod.

"Sure."

He started the bike and motioned for you to get on behind him. Goddamn it, Steve.

Sighing, you swung your leg over the bike and wrapped your arms around his torso. It was an incredibly intimate position, with your body pressed up against his and your faces mere inches apart. For a moment, you didn’t even realize when he swung a helmet down in front of your face.

"Put this on, Scaredy-Cat."

"Shut up, I'm not scared. Just... concerned."

He raised an eyebrow at you, his smirk still ever-present. You rolled your eyes before slipping the helmet onto your head.

The engine rumbled beneath you, and Steve revved the engine a couple of times, laughing when you squeaked in surprise and gripped him tighter. You could feel the laughter in his chest, his muscles moving under your fingers.

"Hold on tight, princess. Wouldn't want you falling off."

"You're a dick."

"Language."

"I will push you off this bike."

Steve didn't say anything; he just pulled the kickstand up and eased the bike into drive.

You squealed when the bike began to move, tightening your hold on Steve and burying your face in his back. He didn’t seem to mind; he just chuckled and sped up a bit.

You tried not to scream as he maneuvered the bike through traffic, weaving in and out of cars. It was a terrifying experience, especially since you had the distinct impression that Steve was taking advantage of the situation and driving recklessly.

You felt the wind on your legs and the constant hair strands whipping into your face, but you refused to look up. The speed, the closeness of the cars, and the fact that there was nothing keeping you on the bike except for Steve made it impossible to even think about moving.

When Steve finally stopped the bike, you had your eyes closed tight, and your body pressed completely up against him. Your arms were wrapped around him so tightly he was surprised you could breathe.

He took a moment to enjoy the feeling before gently prying your hands off of him and stepping off the bike. He turned and reached out a hand for you, waiting patiently for you to move. When you didn’t, he moved back towards the bike and took the helmet off your head.

You were breathing hard, trying desperately not to show how scared you were.

"It wasn’t that bad."

You shot him a glare, which made him grin.

"Just... shut up."

He laughed and helped you off the bike, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He was a gentleman, of course, and you couldn’t complain about the feeling of his hard body pressed up against yours, but the sudden closeness was a bit overwhelming.

"Ugh, I think I have whiplash."

"Liar," said Steve with another laugh, be dramatic. You liked it, admit it."

"Whatever, why are you even kidnapping me, anyways?"

"I told you. It's not healthy to sit in a dark room, alone, all day, every day."

"First, rude.” You said, giving him a nudge in the side. He let out a small sound, which made your eyes widen in surprise.

"Did that hurt you, oh Captain, my Captain?"

"It didn't hurt," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "And second?"

"What?"

"First, rude," he mimicked in a high-pitched voice. "Second?"

"Oh! Yeah, why are we actually doing this?"

That’s when Steve paused. Your heart instantly dropped at his hesitation. Steve only hesitated for two reasons. The first reason would be if he were completely at a loss for words, and clearly, by his recent attitude, that wasn’t the case. So that left the second reason: because he knew something that he either didn’t want to tell you or something he wasn’t supposed to know.

With recent events, it wasn’t difficult to guess what was happening.

"Natasha told you, didn't she."

You were already pulling away from him, ready to go back home and hide in your bed for the rest of eternity, when he caught your wrist.

“Hey,” His voice was softer, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It doesn't matter. What matters is that you have a good time today, alright? So, forget about what happened, forget about what Natasha said, and just focus on having a good day. Okay?"

“I don’t want a pity date, Steve. It’s nice that you care and everything, but-”

"I'm not pity dating you." His voice was firm, and his face was hard, the complete opposite of the way it was just moments before.

"Then what do you call this? My actual date sucked, and I've been cooped up in my house, so you thought, 'Hey, why not take her out and show her a good time?'"

Steve let out a sigh and shook his head, his fingers loosening around your wrist. "No, no. That's not... I'm sorry."

The change in him was drastic. He seemed to shrink in on himself, and his head drooped like a kicked puppy.

"Steve,"

He lifted his head and looked at you, his baby-blue eyes filled with guilt.

"You have no idea how badly I want to punch that guy for treating you like that.” He spoke softly as if the words were only meant for him to hear. But, as the saying goes, the walls have ears, and the parking lot was pretty damn quiet. “But that's not what this is. You're my friend, and I hate to see you sad. I'm not here just because of a stupid date. I'm here because I care about you."

There was a pause, a heavy silence hanging between the two of you. He was looking at you expectantly, a pleading look in his eyes.

"I'm not going to make you talk about it if you don't want to."

"Okay,"

"And I'm not going to bring it up again unless you do.”

"Okay."

"And, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return, maybe a little more conversation, a smile, maybe a laugh, but other than that..."

A smile slowly crept onto your face. He had the uncanny ability to make everyone else smile, regardless of their mood, and he was the only one who could do it. It’s not that his jokes were particularly funny because they weren't, but it was the way he said them.

He was an awkward, nervous mess most of the time, but when he was confident when he was in his element, there was no stopping him.

"You sure you want to waste all your energy on me, old man?"

His lips twitched at the nickname, his eyes brightening. "For you, doll? Anything."

And there it was. That goddamn smile that made your heart skip a beat and butterflies erupt in your stomach. He was just too sweet, and it was completely unfair.

"Come on," he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you close. "Let's get you something nice."

You smiled as you walked next to him. As much as you hated the motorcycle ride, it was nice to spend some time with Steve. He parked outside a Target, and the two of you walked in, immediately making your way to the women's section.

You took charge almost immediately, going to the racks and picking out different things. Steve followed behind you, carrying your armfuls of clothes as you added more. You went through rack after rack, throwing the things that caught your eye into his arms.

After about the tenth outfit, you turned around and saw him standing there, his arms filled with clothing and a smile on his face. You ignored it or tried to, as you turned back around and went to another rack.

When you finally finished, you had an armful of outfits, and Steve was practically weighed down. He didn't seem to mind, though, and you had the feeling that he had enjoyed his role as a pack mule. When the shopping was done, you ran to the bathrooms and changed into the outfit while Steve waited outside.

A pullover hoodie and a pair of jeans, the closest thing that Target had to leather. Not exactly what you wanted, but it would work. When you stepped out of the stall, you found Steve sitting in one of the chairs, flipping through a magazine. Such a 90-year-old, again.

He looked up when he heard the door open, his eyes sweeping over your form.

"Where to now? The ditch?"

Steve rolled his eyes, a smile spreading across his lips. "You’re an avid book reader, right? What's the biggest bookstore in the area?"

"Are we going to Barnes and Noble or something?"

"If that's what's closest."

You paused, watching his expression. There was no sign of teasing, no hint that this was a joke.

"…Really? Barnes and Noble?"

"Is that an issue?"

The disbelief must have been written on your face because Steve gave a loud laugh, throwing his head back.

"Oh, come on. I can be spontaneous!"

"Sure," you mumbled, trying not to show how happy his statement had made you. He remembered a stupid fact about you that you had told him months ago. And he had stored it, not forgotten it.

You felt like you were in the twilight zone, but you weren't complaining.

Steve bought the outfit and threw the tags away, and the two of you got back on the motorcycle. It was easier, this time, with the knowledge that he had cared enough to listen to your ramblings. Maybe he cared enough to calm it.

You had your face buried in his back, not out of fear this time, but out of comfort. You couldn’t see him smile as he sped up, but you could feel it.

At Barnes and Noble, he sat and watched as you wandered the store, a smile on his face. He didn’t say anything, didn't pressure you into talking, didn’t even try to join in; he just sat and listened as you read him the summaries of the books. You didn’t even mean to; it just kind of happened.

One moment, you were looking through the books; the next, you were reading the synopsis out loud to Steve. He didn’t say anything, didn't make any indication that he was listening, but you could tell by the way his head would turn towards you when you spoke. And once again, Steve was your personal pack mule, carrying the books that you were interested in.

By the end of the night, he had an armful of books, a satisfied smile on his face, and you were laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed this much, the last time you had felt so happy.

When you got home, the sky was dark, and the moon was high. Steve followed you inside and set the books down on the coffee table. He had refused to let you carry them, insisting that they would get ruined in your hands. You didn't bother fighting him on it and allowed him to carry them.

"Do you want a drink or anything? Something to eat?" It was obvious you were slightly nervous now, but Steve didn’t seem the notice… or even care at this point.

"No, thank you. I should probably be getting back."

"Oh." You paused, not really wanting him to leave, but you couldn’t ask him to stay. You were friends, that was it, and nothing more. "Okay, yeah."

"Well," he started, his fingers flexing by his side. "I'll see you soon, then?"

"Yeah," you said, giving him a smile. "See you soon, Steve."

He looked like he was going to say something else before he gave you a soft smile and walked out.

Once he was gone, you shut the door and let out a sigh. Today was perfect, and you hated yourself for it. You hated yourself for enjoying yourself, hated that you were able to push away all thoughts of him. It was like the universe was taunting you, dangling the perfect guy in front of your face, and you couldn’t have him.

"Why him, huh?"

"I can still hear you." Steve's voice echoed through the house despite his absence in it, and you internally groaned as you got up to stare out the window. Damn, his super hearing.

You pulled the blinds aside and watched as Steve got on his bike, his helmet still in his hands.

"Steve."

He paused, turning his head towards the house. He couldn’t hear what you were saying now that he was by his bike, not with the closed windows, but he could see the silhouette of your body against the curtains. You lifted it up in an instant, an invitation.

"Steve.” You repeated, and this time he heard it. Loud and clear.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really mean it? That this wasn’t a pity date?"

Steve paused for a moment, his lips slightly parted. After a moment, he rested his helmet on the handlebars and made his way back to you. He stopped inches from you, slightly bending down through the window.

A smile and a simple glimpse at your lips was his only answer. He looked back in your eyes, his expression soft, waiting. He was leaving it up to you, not wanting to push, not wanting to scare. He wanted it, but he wasn’t going to force it.

It was all the incentive that you needed.

You reached through the window and grabbed his jacket, pulling him forward and crashing your lips together. It was desperate and slightly awkward since you were halfway through the window, but neither of you seemed to care.

Steve reached forward and grabbed the side of the window, pushing it open even further and lifting you through. You let out a surprised squeak, which quickly turned into a moan as he pressed you up against the house.

His lips were warm and softer than you expected. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

After a few moments, Steve pulled away, his forehead resting on yours and a smile on his face.

"Okay, this wasn't a pity date."

Steve let out a laugh, the breath puffing against your face.

"Good. Glad we established that."

"What was this, then? I've been told that Captain America wasn’t one to put out on the first date."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely not. I'm a gentleman."

"Then what's this, Steve? What was today?"

His arm tightened around you, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Like I said, I can be spontaneous."

"Spontaneous," you mumbled, letting out a laugh.

"And," he continued, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "It seems good girls like a little bad every now and then. You especially, given your choice of dates."

"So, is that what this is? Captain America showing me a good time?"

"No. This is Steve Rogers showing his girl a good time."

"Your girl, huh?"

"Yeah," he murmured, his lips inches from yours. "My girl."

And when his lips met yours again, all you could think about was the leather jacket, the motorcycle, and the promise of more.

And a whole lot more bad.

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ouiouimochi · 2 months ago

Note

hi I noticed that u were pipino hehe... since it's her months already, can I req how the characters react to f!reader basically celebrating Christmas literally MONTHS early

thankyou for requesting anon! I'm guessing you meant ber months? funny thing is I've gotten started on writing something for that prompt already but you requesting it also urged me to finish lmao… it's kind of rushed? but I do hope you enjoy it!

Never too early to celebrate the holidays!

context: so here in the Philippines, we actually start preparing for Christmas(heck even celebrating it) in September or the start of the ber months. now imagine how the defense force reacts to you practicing this

pairing/s: various kn8 x reader

genre/s: scenario type, slice of life, romance if you squint well, comedy, crack

wc: 2k

warnings: some characters may be ooc, not exactly canon compliant, grammatical errors, no beta we die like cattle, character studies just went out the window in this crackfic, careful for whiplash sweeties! huge mood changes

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*

It was an unusually relaxed day in the Defense Force, free from the hectic stress of kaiju threats and the like. The day was spent training as usual, but everyone can tell that the atmosphere wasn't heavy with the burden of protecting Japan. They just knew, despite their doubts, that it wasn't the calm before a storm— the worry that their respite would soon be ruined by the stupid beasts that had been haunting them since time immemorial.

There was a distinct chill in the air, signaling the start of the crisp season of autumn. The officers of the Defense Force were already used to the drop in temperature, however some were not completely immune.

You were currently surrounded by your fellow recruits, talking about the sudden cold.

“It feels quite colder than last year,” Kikoru mentions, a small shiver running down her body. She rubs her hands together to gain warmth.

“Yeah, it wasn't this bad then.” Haruichi agreed while burying his hands deep into his parka jacket.

The group continued walking through the streets of the city, their batch having been approved for a day off after training.

“Reno, how in the damned hell are you unaffected?” reno my ice ice baby girl- Iharu hounded the mint haired male as he picked at the other male’s choice of outdoor clothes, the latter responding with a raise of an eyebrow and a shrug.

“We should get warm drinks,” you piped up as everyone expressed their agreement at your suggestion.

“I know just the place.” Haruichi pulled out his phone to show the group a cafe located not too far away. Before long, everyone arrived at the establishment with the ring of the bell above the door.

“Hot chocolate would be perfect,” Kafka sighed out, everyone else thinking of what warm drink to get as their eyes scoured through the menu.

“I'll probably have my usual coffee.”

“Maybe matcha tea?”

“Hot milk tea for me.”

“Macchiato.”

“There's no eggnog?” imsosorryidkwhatchristmasdrinktoputlmao a hum followed as the whole group stared at you with varying emotions.

You had a finger to your lip in thought while scanning the menu. You had your eyebrows slightly scrunched in concentration, debating what to get. A few gazes lingered on your face for a bit too long.

Noticing the silence, you looked at your friends and tilted your head. Realization creeps on your face and you cover your mouth with one palm, bowing apologetically.

“My bad, I didn't mean for everyone to wait for my order… I'll get the same as Reno then,” you sheepishly said.

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

“Hold on, I think I have to go get my package.”

“Again? That's like the 6th one this month, (Y/n).” Kikoru stopped walking before turning to you to raise an eyebrow while resting her hands on her waist.

You shrugged your shoulders, seeing no problem in buying stuff with your own money coughcoughnarumicanneverjkcough.

“What's wrong with it? It's not like I'm broke from buying stuff from Yamazon, no? Unlike…” you trailed off, letting your blonde friend finish for you.

She sighs in response, dropping her arms to her sides as you two resume walking.

“As much as I want to say a comeback, you're right about my moronic teacher… I swear, he always asks me for money.”

“Oh, Kikoru…” you pat her back, laughing lightheartedly, “but I do gotta wonder how he does that when his paycheck is more loaded than mine…”

Your younger friend shook her head, already done with the conversation. She waved you goodbye when you two had to separate ways.

You hummed on your way to the office where one receives any delivered goods from outside the base. You waved and smiled at the nice lady at the desk you managed to get acquainted with from your recent visits.

She pulled up a few boxes from under her desk, creating quite the stack. The lady sweat dropped when her eyes trailed from the piled parcels to you— realizing that it'd be quite troublesome for you to carry alone.

Meeting her gaze and knowing what she was thinking, you shook your head and pulled a thumbs up.

“Don't worry, I can handle this. I just have to sign here as usual right?”

She only nodded, still a little worried as you started stacking each box carefully in your arms. Her concern only raised when your head was barely peeking out from the topmost package.

“Thank you again!” and you somehow safely maneuvered yourself out the doorway without hitting anything.

You were doing pretty well despite having most of your eyesight blocked, having to rely on your other senses. You gotta be thankful that all that training paid off, but perhaps you may have overestimated your capabilities.

Although, you could've sworn nobody was in the vicinity as you felt no other presence— heard no other footsteps, rustling of clothes, or even breathing—, you still failed to react fast enough when you collided with someone at the next turn.

Your eyes widened in surprise while some of your packages flew upwards. Everything was in slow motion but you felt a faint warmth wrap around your back and waist to catch you from falling.

You focused more on the packages that were about to fall— afraid that some of the items would break— and caught them… except for one that soared a bit too far from your reach.

Thankfully, the person who you collided with managed to grab ahold of the last box. You closed your eyes and sighed in relief.

A deep playful chuckle reverberated in the air. Your eyes opened to be met with the cheeky grin of Vice Captain Hoshina. implayingfavoritesperhaps

You blinked at him before standing up straight and off his arm.

“Vice Captain Hoshina, sir! I apologize for the disrespect, but I am unable to currently salute you, sir…”

The man only laughs and waves it off with a friendly smile, a hint of one of his canines poking out.

“At ease,” he scanned you from head to toe, “quite a hazard to walk around with ‘ya vision blocked, no?” still in his hand was the package he caught for you.

“I was holding up quite well due to your training…” you stared up at him before narrowing your eyes jokingly, “But your movements had no sound at all, not even a rustle of your clothes.”

He hummed before taking half the pile of boxes in your arms.

“Where to?”

You tilted your head curiously at his gesture. Alhough it was not unusual for the vice captain to be kind, he usually didn’t show it in such a straightforward way. Nonetheless, you appreciated how he still left some for you to carry on your own.

You smiled and answered him, both of you falling in step towards your destination.

“So what're these for? Noticed you've had deliveries the past month as well.” The purple haired man queried.

You had a slight skip in your step, quite excited to open up the packages that you received. In response to his inquiry, you smiled up at him with a glint in your eyes, “Just some early gift buying for the holidays, sir.” before turning your head away to hum a tune in your head.

‘Christmas shopping in September?’

Hoshina’s eyes remain trained on your form, processing what you just said, before he shook his head and just let you be. Everyone else had learned to not to question you much no matter how… eccentric you were at times. Your eccentricity was one of your charms anyways.

“Careful with what you buy, don't want ‘ya ending up like a certain captain of the First Division…” He advised, finding the opportunity to poke fun at said person despite their current absence.

You rolled your eyes, finding it funny that this is the nth time today Captain Narumi was slandered. “I'm more responsible with my money than you all think, sir.”

Far away in the Ariake Maritime Base of the JAKDF, a certain two-toned haired male let out a sneeze while he was busy playing on his gaming console.

Hasegawa shook his head, “that's what gaming all night gets you,” the older man chided his captain as the said person only covered his ears, unwilling to listen to another lecture.

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

Another yoju drops dead on the concrete ground, everyone’s comms crackling to life.

“Immeasurable amount of yoju bounding to Zone Beta, honju’s whereabouts are unknown,” the familiar voice of Operations Manager Okonogi made itself through the earpiece.

“There's just no end to this!” an officer grumbled as everyone else started bounding to the designated zone.

“Kaiju horde spotted, permission to engage?” You announced into your device while readying your gun, being the first in position. The horde had an average of only 3.6 fortitude level— however, their numbers were what made them problematic. The operations room gave you the signal, indicating that it was something you could handle with your capabilities despite only being a recruit.

You wasted not another moment, immediately pulling the trigger of your pre-aimed gun. A yoju drops as its fellow species trampled over its fallen corpse.

The ground was rumbling with the beasts’ stampede through the open road. Yet again, another shot, another corpse. They were still far from your position, so you continued to efficiently gun down kaiju after kaiju.

You get into a steady beat, unconsciously following a certain rhythm from the back of your mind. You remain locked in, completely washing out most of your surroundings— well of course you are still aware of what's going on around you, just more hyperaware than ever.

“First Division backup has arrived at Zone Beta”

You continued firing away, by now the horde was noticeably dwindling away already. A pair of red glaring lenses watched on, having the pleasure of watching your work first hand as the owner was fastest to arrive.

Captain Narumi only wanted to quickly clear the largest wave of kaiju emergence of the year by far— cursing already how his division had to do a joint operation with the Third. Color him impressed as he just observed how you could clear the horde pretty much on your own. He was mesmerized by the timing and pattern of which you fired your gun—

He narrows his eyes when he realizes something, noticing that it was like you were casually playing a rhythm game with the monsters. Well, that wasn't exactly what made him pause…

‘She isn't shooting them down in the beat of a Christmas song, is she?'

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ

“Do any of you think that maybe—just maybee—(Y/n) is actually insane?” Iharu randomly blurted out as the usual group of recruits gathered around. You weren't present at the moment since you were called to the captain's office for something.

“You’re the madman here for being brave enough to even question it.” Kikoru stated matter-of-factly.

“We're literally surrounded by unique people, why are you only pointing fingers at her?” Reno raised an eyebrow, ready to defend you anytime.

“I mean… it's only September… and she's already making holiday preparations!” The pink-haired male tried to explain.

“...He does make quite the point.” Kafka nodded along.

“Eh, how are you all sure she's been doing so?” Reno challenged.

The eldest of the group mentioned what he noticed, “Hasn’t (Y/n) been craving and looking for Christmas season food—”

“You've no right to judge a woman's sudden urge to eat something.” Hakua interjected, the tall female always so passionate when it comes to cuisine.

“Come to think of it… Her part of the room’s been unusually cramped with some packages...” Akari’s mellow voice echoed out.

“It's not really our business to pry into how she uses her paychecks though…”

and so the group bickered back and forth— one half providing ‘evidence’ of your weird behavior, the second half making up possible reasons behind them.

“She’s been humming ‘All I want for Christmas is You‘ by Mariah Carey the past 2 weeks for fuck's sake!”

⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*⁠･⁠｡⁠ᴥ⁠༚˳•⁠⁠°. ☆ﾟ⁠˖⁠*

notes: CRYING SCREAMING HOW DO I WRITE HOSHINA TALKING I FORGOT HOW TO WRITE HIM HHHHHHH (too lazy to edit his parts, this has been in the drafts since the start of september… kinda wanna get it over and done with-)

this was hella rushed, isn't it obvious I made different parts at different days? its a mess just like me :P

#kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no.8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kn8 #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #reno ichikawa #reno ichikawa x reader #kn8 reader insert #kaiju no 8 reader insert #is this enough tags? i think its enough tags

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octoberautumnbox · 2 months ago

Note

a cute date with seoyeon! :D

Hold Me Closer

tripleS Yoon Seoyeon & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff basically, nothing too crazy in this one

Word count: 0.7k

| Part 1 || Part 2 (coming soon hopefully lmao) ||

a/n: i owe u this for that belle fic i think LMAO also gonna follow this up eventually obvs

~~~

In between bites, Seoyeon reaches across the table to hold your hand. “I'm glad you got to come out, babe,” she says with half a mouthful of mint chocolate ice cream. “I know you're still tired from the week.”

“Psh, as if I'd rather laze around at home alone than be here with you.” You know that line is corny, but it never fails to put a smile on her face. It's worth every meeting, every deadline, every performance audit to hold her hand on the way home from a nice night out with Yoon Seoyeon.

As if on cue, she giggles at your reply, “Alright, but I wanna stay over for the rest of the weekend. You deserve to laze around at home, so let me look after you, ‘kay?” You have a feeling it isn't up for debate, so you just accept her offer. “Thanks, baby. I do need the rest.”

"I told you to just let me carry the bags. I'm strong! See?" She flexes her muscles to show you just how strong she is, but with the most adorable face you've ever seen getting puffy trying to look intimidating, it only undermines her point.

On the other hand, the seven shopping bags taking up the rest of the seats in the booth do look heavy now that you see all of them, and it doesn't help that you know what exactly is inside of each one. On the other hand, you do know that Seoyeon is actually strong and can take more than just any average girl.

Just then, her phone vibrates, and as her eyes scan over the screen, a different kind of smile graces her cheeks. “Lookie, me and Naky look so good in this one.” She shows you a video of her and Nakyoung in the practice room rehearsing a sexy kind of dance, “She does that thing with her hand that I like here. You know, that thing you do to me?”

From her arm around Seoyeon’s shoulder, Nakyoung's hand travels to the back of her neck and pulls your girlfriend in until they're face-to-face. It's the same look in her eye that Seoyeon has when you get under the covers with her–anticipating something she can't possibly predict. Her lips part ever so slightly right in front of Nakyoung's, and neither of them are wise to notice.

“Am I supposed to be jealous? What's up with that?” you ask, eyebrow raised, smirk on your lips, and tone filled with sarcasm as best as you can to hide real doubt. As the video plays on and Nakyoung's hands reach more and more of your girlfriend's body, you feel a strange and gross kind of heat rising in your chest.

“Nah, if anything, I have to keep her away from you. She said she likes you too.” The video ends and Seoyeon finally puts her phone away. “I'm honestly nervous she'd be able to steal you away from me.”

“No way in hell, babe. You know why?”

“Because you don't have time to cheat?” Her answer makes you chuckle, the apparent honesty even more so.

“Besides that.”

“Uhh, no idea.”

“Simple. She's not you.” Wrap your fingers around her free hand again, make sure she feels secure. Nobody should ever have that sort of doubt when it comes to love, especially not your Seoyeon.

“Thanks, babe. I love you,” she says, relieved, and with mint chocolate smeared all over her top lip. She tries letting go to grab a napkin, but you beat her to it, lean over the table and give her a peck instead.

“You're lucky you're cute. Mint chocolate, I swear to God…”

“Oh, shut up. And I still haven't gotten my ‘I love you too.’”

You win some, you lose some, and sometimes you're not sure. Whatever this is, though, you wouldn’t have it any other way. “I love you too, Seoyeon.”

And of course she picks this moment to tease you. A mischievous smirk puffs against her cheeks, "Mmm, not good enough," before she finally finished her waffle cone.

"What then?" You finish yours too and crumple the wrapper along with hers.

"Secret. I'll tell you tonight. I take care of you, you take care of me." She fires off a wink and bolts out of the booth, taking with her two and a half shopping bags. Her classic "chase me," her own special trademark "I love you" that only she could ever tell you in this way.

Frantically gathering the rest of the shopping bags she left behind, you stumble out of the booth after her, the only proper "I love you too."

~~~

| Part 1 || Part 2 (coming soon) ||

#kpop fluff #girl group fluff #triples fluff #yoon seoyeon fluff #yoon seoyeon #triples seoyeon #fic box #ask box

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utilitycaster · 2 months ago

Note

i respect matt for constantly wanting to bring in various perspectives and have this 'no good answer' kind of debate but also like. I cannot shake the feeling that sort of thing works SO much better in a scripted format - book, movie, tv show - than ttrpg actual play. Like you said - there needs to be a clear direction of SOME kind. I want to love this campaign so badly because the ideas and character beats are there but the PACING is a slog and direction is just ?

Hi anon,

I have another ask in my inbox that I'm going to answer that's going to touch on this but like. The problem really is, again, the same one I've been saying since the god debates first popped up. "Pulpier and Deadlier" did not prepare the cast for a campaign with extensive philosophical debates - no one in Bells Hells knows shit about dick and most of them seem to have been crafted expecting a more character-centric campaign that obviously did not happen - and because it's not just an open philosophical exploration but a rather specific plot, the party has been ushered along by a number of NPCs and events all saying "you should feel THIS WAY". Which, I should note, is not unrealistic for life, but, and this is part of what I'm going to cover in more length in the other ask, it does not make for a very satisfying story to watch, in the same way that a loving healthy relationship in which nothing dramatic happens is aspirational for real life and stultifyingly boring in fiction.

I do not wish to catastrophize here because it's very possible Bells Hells will go back, make a decision, and this will just be one more annoying argument but we'll get past it, but if this does turn into still more party indecision after we had a big scene that was like "YOU ARE THE HOPE OF EXANDRIA" I think we can safely say that this is just. not a story that has a hope of being as narratively satisfying as it could be (and I say this even if it ends with the factual outcomes I personally want). That doesn't mean there's not a lot of enjoyable pieces to it, and I'm certainly here for the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina's contributions, but yeah this needed MUCH more planning from the start to be able to carry the themes I think Matt wanted it to. Like...I think we are crashing into the boundaries of "it's their game" on some level, because it is great that he is trying to surprise his friends and let a lot of people DM within the world but it means the plot has gotten unbelievably muddied and distorted in a way that it wouldn't had the cast been given a bit more context and the other DMs a bit firmer direction.

#answered #Anonymous #cr spoilers

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ryiju-muunie · 8 months ago

Text

He’s into it!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: established relationship, furry!reader, reader is a furry, reader is into super pink frilly Sanrio stuff, Sukuna is a whipped simp, Sukuna and Yuji are brothers mentioned, fluff, mainly fluff with a treat at the end, grinding, dry humping, pet names (pup & puppy), aftercare Word count: 1644 DESC: Ryomen Sukuna hater of mullets lover of furries

This was originally a Drabble but I got carried away! I kinda wanna make this a series, should I?

Link to my Ko-fi if you want to support me!

Requests and ASKS are open!!!

Ryomen Sukuna would never admit it to you, but he likes it when you wear those ears and paws. It was a shameless hobby you had, dressing up like that for your Instagram. It was innocent but perfect. He loved how the paws were lightly colored and oversized, making you seem smaller. Then how the ears were the same.

You looked perfect. It was perfect! But… while it was all innocent and cute he couldn’t help but feel a deep and brooding feeling reside in his chest. God, it turned him on. The way you pranced around with your phone in public, taking photos with strangers if they asked. How your eyes lit up at conventions you dragged him to, forcing him to look at all the different paws and suits. Ryomen would of course pretend it was the worst thing on her, gaffing and rolling his eyes.

And then when you weren’t looking, he’d palm the fur of a pair of ears in his hand just because he loved the fluff. He had a habit of staring at cute things. Maybe that’s why he liked you. Even though he was the total opposite, with his big black tattoos and semi-shaved haircut. You two looked -acted- completely different. Yet he liked that. You could rant to him about some drama in your community and he’d just listen. Sure he didn’t understand all of it but he just wanted to keep you happy. Not to mention he just loved looking at you like that. Pouting pink lips and fluffy pink ears. Especially the clipped ones with bows and bells.

There was a point where it was becoming too much for him. He was seated on your light-colored bed, hugging a pillow to his chest as you hummed. You were changing into something he was told he wasn’t allowed to look at until you were done. Of course, he grumbled a curse and gave you a pointed look before doing exactly as you said. He caught small glimpses, something pink and frilly of course. God, he just wanted to rip it off of your curved body and fuck you senseless.

Ryomen had a habit of staring at cute things, yes, but he had a worse habit of staring at plump skin. So when he saw you, chubby and completely adorned in the cutest clothing he’d ever seen, he needed you. It was a weird thing, so weird his younger brother liked to tease him over.

“The girl's 5’4 and she’s got you completely whipped, Ryo!” Yuji would chortle, throwing his head back before receiving a coke can to the gut.

“Shut up, brat,” Ryomen retorted, rolling his eyes as always. He didn’t admit the hold you had on him to anyone else but you if you asked him. He’d just shrug and say something like “I please my woman” which was Ryomen Sukuna for “Please marry me I’m in love with you if you leave me I’ll kill myself”.

“Ryomen,” you murmured, turning on your white socks to show your outfit. My god. He was completely done for. There was no way he was going to recover from seeing you in that! Hell, it wasn’t even revealing but it was cute. It was fucking cute. And that’s what got him!

It was a ruffled pink dress, with a ribbon cinching it just below your breasts, letting the rest of the dress flow out. It came down quite low, about your knees. Then some white stockings to cover the rest. By itself it was fine. But you paired it with your favorite ears, paws, and now a fucking tail. Ryomen swallowed and blinked a few times. He had to keep the dress intact, he had to keep the dress in TACT.

Your face fell after a moment of no answer from your boyfriend. A pout formed over your bottom lip, shining in the glowing light with a hint of sparkle. New lipgloss. He looked down at his pants, groaning at the sight of his bulge. Of course, he was solid just from a look.

“Is it really that bad?” You frowned, crossing your arms. Oh don’t do that, he thought as his eyes glanced to your slightly exposed cleavage. You were torturing him in a way you never had before, and you were completely oblivious!

Ryomen muttered your name and hissed, rolling on his side and huffing to sit on the edge of the bed. He motioned his big arm in your direction, beckoning you to come over to him. You nodded and slowly crept towards your boyfriend. At that point, you had to have seen his boner, right?

“You look nice,” he whispered, wrapping one of his big hands around your waist. His other tapped your leg, signaling he wanted you on him. Even if this turned into nothing more than a wholesome interaction, he wanted you to touch him in some way, shape, or form.

“I thought you didn’t like it,” you sighed and sat down. Your eyes widened when his tent pressed against the front of your crotch, “Oh.”

“I like it,” he grumbled, “I think I like it a hell of a lot more than I should. Is that weird?” He looked at your face, which was flushed a deep pink. A small frown pulled at his bottom lip and he used his free hand to poke at the apple of your cheek, “Don’t just stare at me, woman.”

You gave him a small warning look and he quickly corrected himself, “Don’t just stare at me … princess.”

“Everyone has their fetishes. I didn’t know you liked the furry thing like that,” you spoke delicately, with a tiny smile. Clearly, you weren’t weirded out by his admission of guilt. Ryomen nodded and leaned forward, resting his head against your collarbone.

“Don’t think about teasing me in front of the brat,” he mumbled against your skin, wrapping two meaty arms around your back.

You giggled and let one hand trail up his own back to his pink hair, “I won’t. It’s kind of hot that you like it anyway…” He knew the exact expression you were making even if he didn’t see you. It was the far-away look, with an almost innocent stare. It wasn’t really innocent though. That’s why it drove him mad. You could see the sexuality burning behind your eyes as you bit down on your lip. It made him insane with lust.

“Hot huh?” He sat up, looking up at you with narrowed eyes, “I didn’t bring any condoms.” Ryomen didn’t want to admit it but he had an idea that would keep your perfect outfit on without getting ruined, not get you pregnant, and get him off. One of his hands slid down your side and up your skirt to touch along your thigh, “Grind your pussy on my bulge, puppy.”

You nodded and bit down on your swollen lip again, putting both hands on your back to remove your dress. His other hand instinctively grabbed yours and stopped you, “No. Keep it on.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh… okay.”

The two of you found yourselves back against the bed. Ryomen laid on his back as you ground your soaked clothed cunt against his precum-stained shorts. His hands were planted on your hips, rocking them back and forth to get the job done. He leaned his head back against one of your sanity pillows, hoping he wouldn’t cum yet. You felt so good he just needed this to last a few seconds longer. Even though he couldn’t be inside you, he didn’t need to be. Just seeing your face and how it contorted in pleasure was enough for him. You moaned like a goddess, thrusting into him for your pleasure.

“F..fuck pup. You’re driving me mad with- with that damn... mmm those ears.. f-f..uck,” he had never been so foggy.

It had to have been the outfit. Your naked body was beautiful but that’s all he’d ever fucked. He’d never fucked you decorated in all this cute stuff. God, it got him so close. He was just throbbing from the impending euphoria. Then he heard you whimper and it was all over. Your sounds got louder and louder, filling his ears with your pleasure. You placed both hands against his own, pressing your wetness further against his cock. It drove him over the edge and he gasped as a load shot out of his swollen tip. Ryomen had never cum that way, continuing to rub your cunt against him to elongate his high.

You bit your lip at the sensation, cumming a few moments later from seeing your boyfriend lose control. Even though, as he came down from his high, he felt sticky and gross, Ryomen wouldn’t have changed a thing. Seeing you in that pretty outfit grind against him made him so hot and bothered beyond belief. It was better than any penetration he could’ve asked for.

“I love you,” he whispered, pushing you down beside him. You nodded and fell forward against the bed, mumbling your own I love you as well. Ryomen Sukuna kicked off his now very soggy shorts and underwear, opting for a commando-style dress, taking off his shirt as well. You glanced at him and yawned as he sat down next to you, beginning to undo your outfit. “Ryomen…?” You mumbled in a bit of confusion.

“Let me do this, brat- er… my love,” he wasn’t very good at these sorts of pet names unless he was about to cum, it was clear. You were undressed in a few moments and pressed against your boyfriend's chest. He knew you liked this sort of thing. Aftercare? Ryomen wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but he knew it was important.

Making you happy was the most important thing in the world to him.

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