#they tried to get the day off but the request was denied
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tiyawnyana · 1 day ago
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Heyy! I'd like to request Viktor x f!reader, an academic rivals sort of thing. Lots of bickering, teasing and all that. I really love the concept, and I've read every fic I found like this, but I'd love to see it in your style!
So the reader is really frustrated, and they are arguing, lots of tension yk, then she accidentally confesses to liking him/finding him really attractive, so she turns all flustered and tries to deny it, aaand I'll leave the rest to you, maybe it could be smut? With a bit of dom Viktor, hehee
Thank you so much<33
Thank you for your request and patience!!! Loved envisioning Viktor in this 🥴
A/N: i had the woooorst hangover new years day oh my goodness
Characters: Viktor x Fem!Reader
Warnings: rivals to 'lovers', tension, dom!Viktor, teasing, praise (use of good girl), fingering, slight oral (f receiving), maybe a little ooc but I picture Viktor as a teaser
MINORS DNI
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In Piltover's esteemed engineering college, there were always self-proclaimed rivals in academics.
You stand in the entry hall, glaring up at the scoreboard for the most recent exams.
Your name was placed second.
Second to Viktor. An honorary student from the lower streets of Zaun. To be fair- he had clawed his way to where he was now. That much you could respect.
But come on. Really?
You were practically born reading, studying, bleeding engineering. This was your calling.
How was he able to score better than you? There's no way.
The sound of a metallic cane hitting the ground echoes in the hallway before stopping beside you.
You sigh, gritting your teeth.
A low chuckle can be heard,”Nice score,” the voice speaks smoothly, rolling the ‘r’ and looking your way.
You exhale angrily through your nose,”Oh, shut up.”
A mock look of surrender crosses his face as he raises his hands, cane hooked on his forearm as you cast a scathing look his way.
“Hostile, hm?” He smirks at you and you shove down the fester of butterflies swarming your belly.
With a scowl and a scoff, you turn and stalk off.
His pleased snicker can be heard, sending a jolt of anger up your spine.
The annual engineering designs contest was creeping up.
You were practically vibrating from excitement, having finally finished your own project weeks in advance.
In between that time there were seemingly countless exams that you had to cram study sessions in for.
As usual, it was a back and forth with a certain Zaunite for who claimed first place.
Frustration brewed in your belly, festering over time into something more aggressive.
The day of the Engineering contest was a huge success.
You had cleared your mind of all unease and submitted your invention, pleased with the professor's reactions along with your peers.
“Quite impressive, I will admit,” that accented voice sends a chill up your spine, and you turn to see Victor smirking at you and your invention.
”Sarcasm, how delightful,” you scoff.
“Not sarcasm,” he clicks his tongue, moving past you to peer down at your entry,”Interesting design- can’t help but notice its similarities to the early engineering of Piltover creations.”
You tense slightly, surprised,”What of it?”
He shrugs, a playful smirk on his lips,”Have you seen my invention yet?”
You narrow your gaze,”No, I have not-“
He keeps his smirk on his lips as he tilts his head towards where his invention is being admired. By many, you should add.
Even the Dean.
Hot, boiling jealousy brews in your gut.
You ended up storming out of the halls, needing to calm down.
You find solace in one of your favorite classes, Professor Daughtry’s room. Pacing back and forth, you attempt to calm down; looking at chemical compounds written on the chalkboard to formula’s on posters to distract yourself.
You’d worked so hard, going over seemingly countless versions of your invention in hopes to get the Dean’s approval and favor. With your parents breathing down your neck and now this overwhelming pressure to be the best- you couldn’t seem to calm down.
You hear someone approaching the room, door ajar.
“Sorry, can I please be left alone?” You mutter the most respectful way you can.
“This is a common area,” of course, it’s him and his stupid accent.
The hairs on your arm bristle up as you turn to glare at him.
He mockingly raises his hands in surrender, a small smirk on his lips. He walks in, allowing the door to slide closed behind him.
“Viktor- the door!” You yell but it’s too late. The automatic lock can be heard.
Professor Daughtry had it installed when one too many students snuck into his class to fool around.
“You- you imbecile!” You groan, crossing the room to try to pry the door open.
“Wiggling the doorknob isn’t going to unlock it,” he teases.
You whip around to glare, finding him already lounging against one of the tables by the front of the classroom.
“Oh- will you just- just shut up!” You scowl, glaring at him.
“Feisty,” he smirks, raising his hands again in mock surrender,”What did I do to get on your bad side, hm?”
You roll your eyes, huffing in annoyance. Your forehead comes to rest on the door, willing it to unlock.
Of course Professor Daughtry has an automatic lock, you think silently with an eye roll.
“Well?” Viktor hums, sitting against one of the desks.
You scoff,”What haven't you done?”
“Oh? There's more than one?” He smirks and you find annoyance in the butterflies that swarm everywhere inside you.
You narrow your gaze as you look at him fully, taking in his relaxed state.
Curse him to look so good in the Zaun colors. Curse him to have such a gorgeous set of golden brown eyes.
Curse him to be blessed with such a face.
Curse him, Curse him, Curse him.
“I was born to be a top engineer,” you scowl,”And you just come waltzing in being a know it all-”
“Sorry that I too, was born to be an engineer-” he looks bewildered, rolling his eyes.
“Shut up! This is my entire life-”
“It's my entire life, too! What are you going to do- sell off new inventions to the highest bidder?”
You glare at him,”What of it? Profit gets more creations made, all in the name of progress for-”
“For Piltover, right?” He huffs out a sarcastic laugh,”None of it for Zaun?”
You look at him in surprise, eyebrows shot up.
He smirks at you, but it's not the one you've found yourself liking,”Of course not. I am here in the name of Zaun, princess. Everything I do and create is in hopes that Topside will see that Zaun is capable of great things.”
“I never said-”
“You didn't have to, it's written on your face!” He shouts, pointing his cane towards you,”I see the way you glare, your judgement is based solely on the fact that I am from Zaun.”
“I'm not- glaring because of that!” You huff angrily, taking one step closer.
“Then why, huh? I’m scum to you? Filth from the undercity?” He steps closer too, cane hitting the marble flooring with a clack.
“You’re hot- you stupid-“ You cover your mouth instantly, face warming in embarrassment.
He stands still, eyes wide as he looks down at you in surprise before his mouth lifts in a smirk, an exhaled laugh leaving his now parted lips.
“That’s not- I-“ You stammer, backing up to the door and turning to tug on the knob while simultaneously hoping the floor beneath you would swallow you whole, saving you from this mess.
You rest your forehead against the door again, the cool varnish on the wood a contrast against the warmth in your face.
You hear his cane clacking against the floor as he steps closer before you feel him lightly hit the back of your ankle.
“Stop it-“
He huffs out a laugh that sends a shiver down your spine. You lift your head from the door, side eyeing him and that stupid smirk.
“So.. if I heard this correctly-“
”Ugh.. shut up,” you groan, clenching your eyes shut in pure mortified fashion.
He hits the back of your ankle again, taking delight in your embarrassment.
”You’ve been glaring and being a sour princess because you..” He takes a step closer,”Find me attractive?”
His cane is used to box you in against the door and you warily turn around to face him and the stupidity of your unfiltered mouth.
“No- that’s not-“ You try to deny but you’re shut up when he just smirks down at you, stepping closer.
“Oh? Well.. if that’s not the case, that’s too bad, then..” his voice is now bordering a sultry, seductive tone.
Your eyebrows scrunch, your confusion obvious on your face,”How- how so?”
He quirks a brow at your curiosity, a grin overtaking the smirk. He takes a moment, seemingly deciding if he wants to keep teasing you or just be out with it.
He deliberately lets his gaze trail down your front, tracing every detail, taking in every ripple of the university's uniform. He brings his gaze back up to your face, lingering over your lips.
He quirks up an eyebrow, waiting.
You inhale sharply, cheeks warming even more so, coming to the blatantly obvious realization that he was openly checking you out.
There’s a long pause, followed by him taking a few steps back to lean against the teachers desk. He rests his cane against the side, looking back at you before beckoning you with a quirk of his fingers.
It’s like a command you’d been praying for- you step forward so quick, hands coming up to cup his gorgeously sculpted face before you’re tugging him down to meet your kiss, clumsy at first but desperation obvious.
He’s just as desperate, hands pawing down the back of your vest, cupping around your waist firmly.
You release a shaky moan against his lips, leaning into him as he takes charge of the kiss, licking at the seam of your lips and invading your mouth. One of his hands come back up to cup the side of your jaw, tilting your head back.
You brace yourself, palms pressing down on either side of him on the desk, only to jump and pull back at the loud clang of his cane hitting the floor.
He huffs out a soft laugh, cupping your cheek again and tugging you back in, tongue pressing into your mouth.
“Mmph-“ You moan against him, pawing down his front before carefully unbuttoning the top buttons of his vest.
“Eager, are we?” He says once he pulls back from the kiss, lips now slightly red.
“Shut up-“ You huff in annoyance, but you’re stopped when he grabs your wrists.
“That’s not very nice.. is it?” He hums, eyes darkened with lust as he gazes down at you.
Your cheeks flush, swallowing thickly before rasping a soft,”Sorry-“
”Sorry for what?”
You’re surprised even more so, mouth agape in confusion.
“You must be so used to always getting what you wanted, hm?” He gently but firmly cups your chin, tugging you closer, teasingly brushing his lips against yours,”What are you sorry for, Princess?”
You chase, but he holds you firmly, ensuring you’re not able to get what you want. You whine softly, pleadingly looking up at him but he remains stoic, now, a disappointed look in his eyes.
You swallow thickly,”I’m- uh.. I’m sorry for telling you to shut up-“
”Very good,” He praises, and your thighs clench beneath the long skirt of your uniform.
He grabs your chin, tugging you back in for another heated kiss before pulling back to unbutton your vest. You get the message, unbuttoning his as well and helping him out of it before shrugging yours off.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs in praise as he helps unbutton your shirt, sliding it down your shoulders, his hands gently tracing down your arms, goosebumps following soon after.
You shake it off, cheeks flushed as you undo his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his dress shirt, but leaving it on to admire his disheveled look.
“Enjoying the view?” He teases, beckoning you back in.
You roll your eyes but follow his call, sighing with bliss when he cups the side of your neck, fingers lacing into your hair to tilt your head to press kisses down your throat.
His touch sends heat through your body, your thighs tense beneath your skirt. You inhale sharply as his fingers unhook the back of your bra, carefully slipping the straps down your shoulders- your nipples harden in the cool air and it's almost like you can see his gaze darken.
His touch is careful, moving his hand from your hip up, up over your ribs to cup the underside of your breast and thumb over your hardened nipple.
He huffs softly,”To think- all this strife and annoyance could've been avoided..” He smirks and pinches your nipple, reveling in your soft yelp,”If we would’ve talked sooner..”
“Please,” you rasp softly, hands fumbling as you grip over his ribs, pawing at lean muscle and soft skin.
“Oh? Begging sounds so nice coming from your lips,” he praises softly.
You huff, leaning in to chase his mouth but he just chuckles at your eagerness, burrowing his fingers into your hair and tugging just right, a whimper escaping your throat.
“Please, what, princess?” He coos, tilting his head and giving you a lust filled look in his honey brown eyes.
You struggle to form words, licking your lips before finally managing to beg,”Touch me-“
“You’ve got to be specific, gorgeous, how am I supposed to know where?” He firmly cups your tit, nipple hard in his palm,”Here? Or..”
His knee suddenly presses between your legs, grinding into your clothed cunt.
“Mmmph- Oh, ahh-“ you whine, eyes fluttering.
“I’m almost tempted to make you get off like this, Princess,” He smirks, kissing your temple almost fondly, feeling immensely intimate,”But.. I’m not cruel.”
He disconnects from you, sliding over to the teachers chair as he uses the desk for stability, before beckoning you over and again, under his spell, you follow without hesitation.
He grips your hips, pushing you back against the desk and guiding one leg up onto the arm of the chair he sits in. He kisses the inside of your knee and you inhale shakily, stabilizing yourself against the desk with a white knuckled grip over the edge. His hands bring your skirt up, bunching up around your waist as he ushers you to lay against the desk.
He whistles teasingly, eyes lighting up as he sees the mess of wetness between your legs,”I haven’t even started, princess..”
“Don’t- don’t tease me,” you murmur in embarrassment, averting your gaze as warmth covers your cheeks.
“But you’re so fun to tease,” he coos, bringing the chair closer to kiss your inner thigh,”Take them off for me?”
You narrow your gaze, only to stop when he raises his eyebrow. Despite the embarrassment, it seems your need for him outweighs it, so you carefully shimmy your underwear off, not missing that he grabs them and stuffs them into his pocket- when you also spot his tented trousers.
“Spread them,” he taps your thighs.
You listen. Of course you do, almost like you were hypnotized by his voice and he can’t help the smirk almost permanently etched into his lips.
“Good girl,” he praises, petting your outer thighs and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin inside, lingering as he groans from your scent.
He trails his hand up your other thigh, spreading you further before his thumb brushes over your swollen clit.
You squeak, releasing a shaky moan when he grins and rubs his thumb over it softly, not enough to get you off but enough to have you needy and whimpering for more.
“So greedy,” he murmurs against the skin of your inner thigh.
“Viktor- please,” you beg, gripping the edge of the desk with a pleading look in your eyes.
He chuckles, but decides to not tease, instead choosing to spread your folds with a pleased groan at the slick glistening on your cunt. He prods, allowing your slick to wet his fingers before looking up at you.
“Tell me to stop whenever, ok, Princess?”
You nod shakily, warmth gathering in your chest.
“Use your words, now..”
”Yes- I will, Viktor,” you stammer softly, chest heaving at his command.
He nods his approval, carefully pressing his pointer finger into your heat, groaning at the vice-like grip he’s greeted with. You open up so beautifully for him, gummy walls welcoming him almost greedily.
You huff, whining softly before slumping against the desk with a squirm of your hips, almost trying to pull him in more.
He pulls his finger back, then presses back in more, up to his knuckle, getting you used to the stretch. He listens to your soft, airy moans with a satisfied grin.
He presses another finger in, curling both upwards and gently pulling back just to press in harder, other hand holding you down flat against your stomach, thumb rubbing over your clit with precision.
Of course he’s a natural, you think to yourself with a huff before a moan is almost punched out of you as the pads of his fingers press something inside of you. You lift your head, dazed, as you peer at him only to groan at the self satisfied smirk on his mouth.
He sucks a mark into your thigh, speeding up his fingers and thumb, listening to you moan louder and longer, babbling nonsense and repeated pleads.
“Please- oh, don’t stop-“ You beg, head shaking back and forth against the desk.
“You sound so good, all desperate,” he coos, thrusting his fingers into you faster gradually,”Makes me wonder how you’ll feel riding me.”
You moan out loud at the imagery, your walls tighten up around his fingers and he groans, nipping into your thigh.
He keeps at it, grinding his fingers into you faster and harder as you gasp, whine and squirm against the desk. You babble, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to that crest.
“Please- please, oh-“ you moan, back arching into his hands.
“You’ve been so good for me,” he praises,”I think you deserve a treat.”
He removes his thumb from your clit and you almost groan angrily only to yelp in pleasure as his mouth seals over the sensitive bud. He flicks his tongue over it, circling and sucking until you shriek out a moan, sure to have echoed around the empty class as you find your release.
After the mind numbing orgasm, followed by him licking your slick from your folds and his fingers, he pats the outside of your thigh to get your attention.
“C’mon, princess,” he coos.
You tiredly sit up from the desk, peering down at him as he sits back with a cocky smirk.
He points to a button on the inside of the desk,”Did you know that I was the one that installed the new locks to Professor Daughtry’s class? He requested that a secret button be placed on his desk that only he should know about- to unlock it, of course,” He tilts his head,”Sure, there’s a key that he carries, but there are perks to being one of the students he likes.."
He lifts a lone key after grabbing it from his pocket.
You raise your brow in confusion.
“We won’t be bothered at all,” he smirks, a lustful glint in his gaze as he scoots that chair back with his good leg before unbuckling his belt. He taps the floor with his foot,”Show me what else your mouth is good for.”
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A/N: got some more im working on!!
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hvnlygrl · 9 hours ago
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can u pls pls pls write this, nobody is taking my rqs.
so basically jj/rafe comforting reader bc shes crying after he overstimulated her as a punishment for spending time w pogues/kooks and her touchy bsf jj/rafe
hold me now.
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pairing — rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader
word count — 1.4k
warnings — overstimulation, rafe gets in his feelings, reader cries, mention of throwing up, hurt/comfort, brief smut (minors dni), p in v.
synopsis — you’ve been spending too much time around the pogues, and more specifically around your touchy best friend jj and rafe funnels his jealousy into your sex life. he goes too far and he hates himself for it.
notes — i love this request idk why nobody else wants to write it 😭 hope you’re okay with me picking rafe for the pairing ive been wanting a rafe request 💌
you’d known jj since you were four years old, his dad living right next door to your mom. you grew up together, learned how to ride bikes on the same day, were there for each other’s first heart breaks in elementary school and fought off the other’s bullies without a second thought. to you, he was the brother you never had, and to him, you were his entire world. he’d never admit it to anyone but he was positively in love with you.
jj had no idea when his love for you turned into more than it was in the beginning, but he couldn’t deny to himself the feelings he held for you. and to your boyfriend, rafe, it was obvious. 
rafe felt the rage building in his chest as he watched jj wrap his arms around you, a grin across his lips as you laughed and laughed. he couldn’t hear what jj said that was so funny, but judging by your laugh, it was probably some inside joke about some niche topic that he wouldn’t be able to begin to understand. 
rafe tried not to be the overbearing type with you, knowing that it brought you great stress as it reminded you of the relationship you witnessed between your parents growing up, but he just couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel to you and jj. he knew it was trivial, and that you would never in a million years be the type of person to cheat on him, but he also feared that if it came down to it, you would choose jj over him. 
rafe knew he couldn’t yell at you or cuss you out over it, because ultimately it wasn’t your fault. but he had to do something to stop himself from bursting at the seams with everything he was holding in. it drove him insane that he couldn’t do anything about the close relationship you held with the pogue, but he had to find another alternative. 
so he funneled his frustrations into your sex life. 
you lied there, looking up at him with big doe eyes as he drilled into you harshly, one hand gripping the bed frame above you as the other held onto your hip tightly. 
you cried out, eyes rolling back as he continued his momentum, growing closer and closer to yet another orgasm as he fucked you. you wouldn’t say that it hurt, because it didn’t hurt per se, but you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the way he was fucking you tonight. 
“r-rafe-” you whined desperately, hand reaching up to dig into his bare chest. 
“yea?” he breathes out through a groan, head turned up toward the ceiling as he brings himself closer to his own orgasm. 
you whimper as another climax rushes over you without warning. rafe doesn’t realize how overstimulated you are until tears begin flowing from your eyes. he sees the look on your face and wants to punch himself. you look so fragile, face turned away from him as he quickly pulls out, backing away from you as he catches his breath. 
“baby,” he reaches out toward you, heart aching when you turn further away from him, curling into yourself. “babe?”
you groan in response, naked body folded as tightly into itself as humanly possible. 
he hangs his head as he makes his way to the bathroom. rafe nearly throws up when he hears your delicate sobs emanating from the bedroom. “fuck,” he whispers as he looks in the mirror at himself. his chest and back are covered in scratches, his cheeks red and blotchy, and his hair completely askew. 
he has no idea when he got so carried away with everything, or when it became too much for you and he wants to throw his head through the wall at the fact that he didn’t notice. he should’ve noticed that he was taking it too far with you. 
rafe quickly finishes himself off in the bathroom, heart in his throat as he returns from the bathroom with a damp washcloth. he watches you breathe in and out slowly and deeply, trying to stop yourself from crying further.
you genuinely had no idea why you were crying, but you couldn’t get yourself to stop. you weren’t even upset in the slightest, you just were so overwhelmed that your body was having a visceral reaction to anything and everything at this point. 
rafe threw a pair of boxers and sweatpants on and grabbed you your favorite comfy shorts and one of his shirts and a pair of loose cotton panties. he carries the clothes over to the edge of the bed and kneels beside you. 
“baby?” he reaches out to you again, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you don’t shy away from him. “can i clean you up?” 
you nod pitifully, body still tensed as he gently opens your legs again to wipe at your sensitive area. you whimper, unable to prevent the tears from flowing yet again when the cloth touches your clit. “s’too much.” 
“i know,” he whispers, “i’m so sorry, my love, i went too far, i should’ve paid attention to you and how you were feeling.” 
you want to comfort him, but part of you knows that nothing you can say will even begin to ease the thoughts in his mind. rafe had done countless hours of therapy to try and be better for you, and you knew that to him, this was a major setback. 
“i love you,” you whisper back, “it’s not your fault.” 
he leans forward, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead, “i love you. thank you.” 
you hum in response, body feeling like jello as he pulls the clothes he picked out for you over your body. he adjusts you so that you’re comfortably sat under the comforters, back resting against the pillow on the headboard. he slides in next to you after turning off the big light and adjusting the a/c to your preferred settings. he sits near you, without touching you, unable to bring himself closer to you due to the thoughts racing through his mind. he feels awful, he never meant to take it that far. 
you both sit in silence for a beat, just listening to the sound of the a/c kicking on and the dog’s claws clacking against the hardwood floors. after a moment or two, you roll over, inching yourself closer to him slowly. your muscles are sore and your body aches from overuse as you put your head on his stomach. 
he drags his fingers through your hair mindlessly, listening to your soft hums of approval. 
“it’s not your fault, rafe,” your voice is soft and raspy, “i don’t blame you.” 
rafe wants to believe you, and he knows that you mean what you say, but he just can’t see it the same way as you. you were always the optimist in the relationship. “i just get so worked up over jj, i know i shouldn't, i know he’s not going anywhere, but i can’t help it.” 
you’re silent for a second. “i know.” you turn your head so that you can see his face, and he can see yours. “but look at me, baby, i’m not going anywhere. and i love jj, yes, but he’s my brother. i will never be able to look at him the way i look at you, we’ve been through too much together.” 
“i know, that’s what scares me,” rafe’s brows furrow deeply, “i’m scared that because he’s been there for forever and he knows everything, that i’m always gonna be left out. that it’s always gonna be the jj and y/n show and i’ll always be a background character.” 
“you won’t, you aren’t,” you frown at him, “it's our show, baby, and i’m not going anywhere. and i'm sure as hell not gonna let jj be the thing that gets in between us.” 
he nods, but you can tell that he’s still struggling to believe it. 
“i love you, rafe cameron. you’re my soulmate, you’re my entire world. i would die if anything happened to you, do you understand that?” 
“i know,” he nods again, this time more sure of himself. “i would kill if anything happened to you. i can’t even imagine that.” 
“good. don’t imagine it, because nothing’s gonna happen to me, and nothing’s gonna happen to us. i love you so much, baby.” 
“i love you so much, y/n.” 
“forever and a day?”
“forever and a day.” he kisses the top of your head, letting his lips linger for longer than normal before pulling you closer into his arms. he squeezes you tightly. “i promise i won’t hurt you like that again. i’m so sorry.” 
“apology accepted, rafey,” you wrap your arms around his, kissing his hands gently. “now make me a sandwich please?”
“anything you want, my love.” 
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taglist — @lanasb0ngwater
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lovetreats · 2 days ago
Text
in the shadows.
superhero!nanami kento x gn!assistant!reader
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LOVETREATS .ᐟ navi. jjk m.list.
anon . . . Hii I’d love a nanami headcannon of him being a super hero
synopsis .ᐟ the head of nanami enterprises by day, a masked hero by night. nanami kento has a routine: work, train, fight crime, help people, and maybe get a couple hours of sleep. but when ijichi manages to persuade him in hiring another helping hand for the company, he relearns a couple of things he thought he’s forgotten. [ part of the 'behind the mask' project. ]
content .ᐟ superhero!nanami, superhero!au, nanami is sorta like batman (you'll see why i said 'sorta'), nanami has two personas but both are serious because that's just how he is, expect cliches, nanami's a ceo, reader kinda just. says whatever's on their mind
chapters .ᐟ one | two | three | four | five
a/n .ᐟ this is uhhh somewhat of a slow burn? sooo expect multiple parts... also this... kinda doesnt feel like a headcanon but OH WELL enjoy this scenario/headcanon <3 ( i've rewritten this so many times it's insane )
tag list .ᐟ open! ask and you shall receive ^^
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superhero!nanami who dons his mask every night, ensuring that the citizens of tokyo are safe from the dangers that lie in wait within the shadows.
superhero!nanami who thwarted mahito's harmful plans of leaking toxic laughing gas in an apartment complex, a blank expression on his face as mahito tries to worm his way out of nanami's grip. he turns him in to agent higuruma, who merely nodded when he says his thanks.
superhero!nanami who doesn't care about what people say about him. whether they think of him as a hero, a villain, or a vigilante, he does not concern himself with the media's perception of him. his priorities and focus are all solely on ensuring the city of tokyo is safe.
superhero!nanami who stays in the shadows of tokyo, always lurking, observing, and on the move.
superhero!nanami who, at first, denies ino takuma pleads of fighting crime in the shadows with him, until ino manages to save a severely injured nanami from certain death.
superhero!nanami who guides and trains ino in his ways. "we have a no-kill rule here," he states. before ino could ask him why, nanami continued on, "every person deserves a second chance. some of the 'criminals' are sometimes just people trying to get by, resorting to illegal activity to stay afloat."
superhero!nanami who looks ino dead in the eye and says, "but i understand that there are some people out there who are nothing but vile and corrupt." he stands up and hands ino a black mask. "... humanity is better off without people like them."
superhero!nanami who greets ijichi with a tired smile and introduces ino, telling him he'll be living with them from now on.
superhero!nanami who raises a brow when ijichi tells him that he's hired a personal assistant for nanami. "there's no need for that, you and i are competent enough—" ijichi cuts him off, "nanami, sir, we need another helping hand around to oversee the enterprises. i'm busy enough with helping you with information, and you're busy enough prowling around tokyo—you even have a sidekick to train too."
superhero!nanami who sighs in defeat and waves one hand. "alright, but only one person."
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ceo!nanami who flips through your resume (along with the printed background check that ijichi had per nanami's request for each candidate) for several minutes before setting the folder down on the table.
ceo!nanami who glances at ijichi and points at the small, square picture of you. "they look reliable." ijichi nods and bows before he starts on making arrangements, emailing you a concise message, informing you of being the chosen applicant to be nanami's personal assistant.
ceo!nanami who does a double take when he sees you already typing away on the computer with a purpose. it was only 6am. nanami clocks in early because he barely sleeps and uses his time to train, plan different strategies, or fix or upgrade his equipment before coming in to work. why the hell were you here so early? the employees start work 9am.
ceo!nanami who asks you, "did ijichi inform you that work starts 9am?"
ceo!nanami whose eyes slightly widen at your response. "yes, sir. he also informed me of your schedule, and since i will be overseeing the company with you, i decided to follow your work schedule." you state after bowing.
ceo!nanami who tells you, "you don't have to clock in early. no need to be rigid either."
ceo!nanami who can't help but crack a half-smile when you said, "sorry, sir. being this rigid comes from experience." though he's unsure if you were joking or not.
ceo!nanami who isn't used to having someone that isn't ijichi follow him around. "sir, your appointment with mr. gojo satoru is in a few minutes. i can handle signing the papers for the nanami foundation."
ceo!nanami who feels like he's about to pop a vein when gojo starts teasing him with you. "nanamin! it's like they know everything about you!" gojo exclaims in joy. "... because they're my personal assistant," nanami states, tone filled with annoyance, rubbing the temples of his forehead with his middle finger and thumb.
ceo!nanami who sighs, exasperated. "what's the meeting for, gojo?"
superhero!nanami ceo!nanami who furrows his brows when gojo's expression turned into something more... serious. urgent.
superhero!nanami ceo!nanami who clenches his fists when gojo tells him that mahito got out of prison, to which gojo made yuji and megumi follow after him as quiet as possible. when they came back, their eyes were filled with fear. it looked like mahito was planning something terribly sinister.
superhero!nanami ceo!nanami who told gojo to meet him tonight at his cave. they needed a plan, stat.
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hearted-anon · 18 hours ago
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Sana week! 5 days to Sana's birthday.
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For: @itzsana-kiddingmenow, titled: 'Practice it yourself!' Words: 1088 Note: I tried SO LONG to find the exact moment I was talking about here but I couldn't. Anyways, it's almost been a month since I've written anything, sorry for the inactivity and lack of finishing any requests...
T/w: Slight pinning, rough tickles Taglist: @reginald-stay09 @itzsana-kiddingmenow @hetashi-takashimaya @soap143 @jungwon-is-the-one @minnielvrr @skzdiary Lee: Jisung, a bit of Minho Ler: Minho, a bit of Jisung
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“How about we go over that second verse again?” Jisung mutters, his legs automatically moving to the groove that was stuck in his brain for the time being. His hand ran through his messy hair, some of it covering his eyebrows too. Poor Jisung had been having trouble memorising the second verse of S-class, struggling on his own while the others got along with the choreography perfectly fine. 
“Go and learn it yourself then.” Minho announces calmly, copying Jisung’s actions and ruffling up his own hair, a smile widening on his face almost in a nonchalant way. Jisung’s eyes could only widen in shock at what he was hearing, standing alone as he shrank into himself timidly, hearing the members laughing their heads off in the background. With a loud groan, he clung onto the elder, giving him huge puppy eyes while his arms squished the dancer closer to him, pulling them both down like he was a pit of quicksand. Even when Minho shoved at the head that was pressed against his thigh, it still didn’t deter the quokka from making them both lay down, Han pressed on top of the elder like a weight. 
“Now you have no choice but to teach me!” The younger huffed, ignoring the fact that Lee Know was letting out strained groans and mumbling every curse in the book, arms coming around to poke along the bunny’s side teasingly, a knowing grin spreading across his face. He was thrilled to see Minho’s face beginning to contort into a smile of his own, digging his fingers into his side gently while humming a tune; he knew the elder would never be able to resist his charm, no matter what. 
“Yohou brat…you behehetter stop..” Minho hisses, but finds himself trapped under Jisung’s weight anyway, tiny snickers beginning to leave his lips at the tingling sensation on his side. His cheeks puff up in an attempt to hold his laughter back, the younger letting out his own peals of laughter when the pair of thighs began to tremble and shake under him, vibrating partially onto his stomach. The practice room was left empty, no one able to save the poor bunny after a sighing leader ushered the rest out of the room for a ‘break’ to not disturb said duo.  
“I won’t stop until you teach me that damned choreography hyung!” Sure, maybe he did sound just a tiny bit too whiny to be considered normal. Sure, maybe he sounded like a petulant child that was denied a toy at the store during grocery shopping. Despite all above that may come across as the most embarrassing thing ever, it was rare that either of them ever let their guards down. But now that they were together, it felt so easy to do what wouldn’t be considered a norm, nothing able to hold them back now. 
“Then you can suffer the consequences instead!” Minho barked, before shoving his nimble fingers, that were once so very useless and laying limp against his sides, to park themselves snugly into the younger’s underarms. They were unmoving, but instantly, Han was quick to retract his hands with an ungodly high-pitched scream, pleas for mercy immediately leaving his mouth as fast as lightning; it was almost as if he wasn’t pouting and trying to tickle the Lee Minho to get his way just a few moments ago. 
“Hyung hyuhuhung please I’m sorry!” The pitiful quokka babbled, anxious giggles spilling from his lips when he felt his body instinctively backing away, almost shrinking into himself. He shrieked loudly when his back hit the wooden floor, shaking his head in desperation when he spotted the usual Cheshire grin on Minho’s face, it was as clear as day he was planning something. What was it? He didn’t know at all. And he dreaded trying to even find out. 
The elder remained silent, his fingers tenderly swiping up and down the ace’s underarms, biting back the urge to mischievously snicker at the squeals and giggles he got from the tiny action. He was barely doing anything, but each swipe felt like another electric shock up his spine, the anticipation building up so painful that it was almost humiliating. Han Jisung, youngest member of KOMCA, known as the fourth generation ace, was brought down by a few swipes to his armpits. He could only feel his cheeks heating up at the thoughts that ran through his mind, and worst of all? Lee Know hadn’t said a word, leaving it to simply be Han’s thoughts spiralling him into absolute madness; and he wouldn’t be all that surprised if the bunny already predicted this would happen. 
“Plehehease it’s torture- WAHAHA! HYUHUHUNG!” Jisung squealed when Minho finally dug his fingers deep into the younger’s underarms, one hand kneading deep circles into the sensitive flesh while the other practically vibrated in the centre of the plushy flesh. One could only pray for Han’s life afterwards, echoes of booming hysterics sounding through the practice room walls; a mixture of consequences from his own overactive imagination and the anticipation of what was already coming. He couldn’t decide which was worse, both of the rough sensations frying his brain completely as he threw his head back with cackles. 
“Ah see? I fixed it.” Minho dryly comments, like he had solved all of Jisung’s problems with whatever he was doing right now; a word that Jisung liked to call: Inhumane torture being inflicted onto his fragile and suffering body. No matter how much the younger kicked, even landing a few tiny ones onto Lee Know’s stomach, who simply just chuckled at the feeling as if it was a normal thing to be experiencing, the fingers wouldn’t even budge an inch, arching his back in a futile attempt to relieve the sensations. 
“NOHOHO MORE! I CAHAHAN’T!” Han practically screamed, deflating akin to a popped balloon when Minho finally relented, albeit a bit reluctantly. That was a shocker, considering that tears of mirth haven’t even welled up in his eyes yet. He let out a shocked yelp when the dancer gently pulled him up and into his arms, a nose burying itself into his hair and getting a whiff of the pine shampoo that came with. Although they were both on the hard wooden floor of the room, neither of them found it uncomfortable, saying nothing about the tickle fight, or the playful banter, simply basking in each other’s presence. 
And yes, Jisung did end up learning the choreography on his own anyway. 
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astralfortune · 2 months ago
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Fun Fact #14
The only time O has gotten in trouble during their time as a trainee was when they ditched their lessons to attend their younger sister's middle school graduation.
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veganhamsalad · 14 days ago
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a lot has been going on, love yall
#dsfghsdfgghd#so i hadnt yet come out to aaron fully. tried to frame it as quirky cis girl things but like#it went well. he doesnt like the name but im cool with that. my mom seems kinda sad about it otherwise i'd ask her if she wanted to help#me pick it#but so far actually getting on t has been a hassle.#got written a prescription on the 9th. Woo#doesnt actually go through just the needles etc#i wait a few days like a good little customer#call my pharmacy to check on it. mention that i heard it could be an insurance thing#they say that it wasnt. that my pharmacist cancelled it for some reason#they fix it. aaron had some feelings about this that caused me to hold off. he came home from alabama#and i feel so bad bc i told myself i could be cool and just. accept it if aaron didnt like it and carry on bc like#okay have wanted to go on t since 13-15. but i was also kinda just chilling??? like i barely live in my body anyway but#and he revealed some really personal stuff that has me deeply worried for him tbh#But i'm proceeding. he's given his okays and i do feel sad. i do kinda feel like im killing the woman he loved even tho 1. hes done#nothing to indicate feeling that way and 2. he can still call me his wife. frankly hes the sweetest funniest guy with biggest heart. makes#me nut. im in heaven with him. life goes on u know#anyways off topic. we have money again. aaron is being cool now i just dk how to bridge those topics with respect for him#but he offered to pick it up for me. walmart first told him that they didnt take good rx cupons for controlled substances and then when the#saw him pull up a cupon they said walmart was the only pharmacy that couldnt#then they came back and said they couldnt give it to him since insurance denied it so theyre sending another request#full goshdamn circle. it was nice hearing aaron get indignant and annoyed that its a controlled substance
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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months ago
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the "it" couple
masterlist
requests are open
summary: you and Rafe being the hottest couple on the island
word count: 1.3k.
warnings: established relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of nude pictures, Rafe is reader's first everything, you're both lovesick
a/n: my obsession with soft and painfully in love Rafe is not curable at this point. but like could you imagine having him all to yourself?? ughhh the things i'd let him do to me😩
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Everyone knew that there are couples that, at first glance, give you the impression that they just have really good sex. Like they are so hot and perfectly compliment each other, with a certain vibe oozing out of them, especially when they are together. 
You and Rafe were that couple. 
Before you started dating, no one ever considered that two polar opposites like you might even coexist. You were a kook, but still completely different from Rafe and his little gang. You were pretty, but more on the quiet side, never showing off or bothering anybody.
Rafe, on the other hand, was mean and sarcastic to everyone and everything. It was a good thing that you put him in his place the first time he talked to you, making it clear that you are not having his shit. And also making Rafe instantly interested and following you like a puppy.
You were annoyingly teasing and flirting with each other, and everyone tried not to get involved in whatever was going on. It was your first experience with a guy, because before that, nobody was really making their shots, or, at least, you never paid enough attention to notice it, choosing to focus on yourself. But with Rafe, it felt fun and so damn easy. 
Your first kiss set everything in its place because you finally gave in to your hidden emotions. It made sense why you were always arguing and pestering each other—you simply craved attention from one another and it was the easiest way to get it. 
Surprisingly, Rafe’s rough edges softened, especially around you, and he was so affectionate and craved you around him 24/7. Though, knowing that you’ve never been in relationships before, he never pushed you to do anything, just following your pace. 
But after your first time happened in the third month of dating, after the ice melted and your insecurities fully disappeared, Rafe almost got another version of his girlfriend. 
If he thought that you couldn’t be better, then he was wrong. 
He never understood his friends who said that they had to almost beg their girlfriends to have sex, mostly because Rafe had never been in actual relationships before. But it made even less sense for him because you, seemingly, had the same energy and high sex drive as him. 
The first few times may have been slightly awkward with you still learning and trying to understand your own body, but once you got confident, you became unstoppable. 
Whether it was early morning, the middle of the day, or way past your bedtime, you were ready to have sex right away, straddling Rafe's legs or luring him into a kiss while your hands slipped under his pants.  
It was crazy how much you both wanted each other. It was a perfect fucking match to have someone with exactly the same needs. You probably have been bent over every single flat surface in the house and not a single room was safe from the two of you. He wanted you all to himself and he could go hours just worshiping your body and fucking you into bliss. 
You were almost glued together, never coming to an event alone. Rafe was so obsessed with the way you looked, with your smell, and with the feeling of your skin on his, so he always had to touch you one way or another. His friends teased him that he was absolutely pussy whipped for you and he had never denied it. They also started calling you Mrs. Cameron because you acted like a married couple and neither of you were against that nickname.
To say more, the idea of that made Rafe so feral for you, so he didn’t let you get out of bed the following day. Not that you complained, though.
Rafe loved sneaking out with you. Whenever you two had to visit a gala with your families, he always snatched you from the main room to drag you to the bathroom or another hidden place to have a quickie or to burry his head under your dress because you were too hot to resist. Yeah, maybe other people noticed it, giving you their usual politely awkward smiles, but neither of you care. 
On his birthday, you gave him the best fucking gift, which was a stack of your naked polaroid pictures. You were really nervous to do that, thinking that Rafe might react differently, but he reminded you once again why he was your perfect match. After looking through the photos several times, he literally attacked you, throwing you back on the bed and giving you the best orgasms of your life. 
Since that day, one of the less explicit pictures of your ass has been placed in his wallet.
You were officially the “it” couple on the island, with everyone either admiring or being jealous of that spark, which never seemed to diminish. Everyone saw the way the Rafe Cameron gave you heart eyes, soft smiles and gentle kisses. The way he held you close to himself, protecting you, taking care of you, and treating you like a queen.
Some people told you that it was only the excitement of a new relationship, but after a few years of dating, with a promise ring on your finger, it was still there. You still craved each other's touch; you still craved being together whenever it was possible, always going on dates and trips, attending all of Kook’s events, but mostly spending lazy days in your shared house. Sex was even better than before—more passionate, fun, hot and full of unconditional love.
Despite the gossip on the island, Rafe didn't get “bored” of you. No, over time, he became addicted to you because you felt like home, and there was nothing better than being with you. 
He didn't need any other women. And he still couldn't grasp the idea of cheating. If he had you, then why on earth would he do that? Every time he came home, the best person in the world and the best sex of his life were in that exact location, so he never complained about anything.
You were his afrodisiac and whether you were in full glam, in a bikini on the beach or in his old t-shirt with messy hair, he couldn’t just keep his hands to himself and not kiss the air out of you. 
He liked how you stayed at home, doing whatever you wanted and treating yourself while he worked. You always greeted him with homemade food, but more importantly, you acted as if you had not seen him in months.
You were waiting on the porch or finishing up in the kitchen, but when you saw him, you ran and jumped into his arms and pulled him into a kiss. It always melted Rafe’s worries and bad mood away, as his shoulders sagged in relief from being in your arms again. 
You always ended up in your bedroom, with you on or under him, while your hands were tugging at each other’s closes. Rafe knew that it would eventually end up with him finally putting a baby in you—something that more and more flooded his mind—but for the foreseeable future, he first had to officially make you his Mrs. Cameron.
And the red box with the big ass diamond ring, which was currently sitting in the drawer, was just waiting for the perfect moment.  
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luveline · 8 months ago
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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
You and Spencer finally find time for your first time. 6k
fem, afab!reader, mostly confident!reader, foreplay, oral sex, p in v sex, lovey dovey tender loser sex, established relationship, pet names, aftercare, requested here <3
cw for smut, minors do not read or interact, 18+ content
˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗
“Can you stay still?”
“No,” you answer honestly.
Spencer climbs further toward you on the bed. “I’m trying to help. You’re no good at buttons.”
You’re no good at buttons because your fingers shake whenever you and Spencer get close like this, and with these intentions. You’d always thought he’d be the shy one —sometimes you take his hand in the back of the work car to watch his cheeks go a rosy, unignorable pink. He’s the more introverted of the two of you and he always has been, so why does his touch have you trembling already?
Excitement, you decide, heart in your mouth as his fingers begin to pop your buttons through each matching slit. This is exactly what happened last time you and Spencer tried (and were sorely interrupted). You’d been out of breath and in his lap, too excited to see to his buttons, too busy kissing him to take much notice as he’d taken care of them himself. And then work called, your plans were cancelled, and he’d promised you that you’d get to do this soon.
“I’m good at buttons,” you deny, leaning back on the palms of your hands as his pinky’s brush up, the sides of your shirt falling open.
“Oh, you’re back,” he says. He’s teasing in bed. You aren’t expecting it. “You went somewhere else for a few seconds, you okay?” That’s less teasing, more sweet.
His hands pause just under where your bra begins.
You take a breath. “I’m okay, I’m thinking about last time.”
He leans in for a kiss, a quick but steady catching that has your face following him as he pulls away again, and undoes your next button. “Which part?”
The part where he’d insisted you’d be laying down for this. The memory alone inspires heat, pleasure and wanting from the depth of your chest, your stomach, ever lower.
“Did you lock your door?” you ask.
Your phones are off. The door is locked. Spencer promises as much in your ear as leans in closer to you, crawls that last few inches of space to have your legs tangled atop his white sheets, his hand disappearing under the open sides of your shirt. The other hand works the last few buttons, but you don’t get to watch him do it, distracted by his fingers hot on the small of your back and his lips as he pulls you in tight for another kiss.
This one’s slow. He holds you like he’s worried you’re gonna slip out of his arm where it curls behind you, cool air kissing your chest as he gets the last button by your neck and encourages either side away from you. You lean into him and shake your shirt down the lengths of your arms, finally shirtless in front of him again after days of trying. You try to keep up with his kissing, he’s intense, he’s everywhere, but you run out of breath.
“Oh,” you say uselessly, your cheek against his as he kisses your jaw.
“What, angel?” he asks, breath warm to your skin, “What’s up?”
“Nothing… I wore my nice bra for you.”
“You did?” He promptly pulls away. His face is pinking, but it’s so warm you can’t blame him for it. You’re sure he’d feel a furnace under your skin if he touched your forehead. Spencer’s gaze falls down to your chest, where it stays, his own rising and falling with a noticeable sharpness. “That’s pretty. You’re pretty.” He swallows as he looks up. “Your nice bra? Just one?”
You cover a breast with your hand and push it up ever so slightly. “This is the one I thought you’d like most. You like blue.”
“I love blue. I love you, I love you,” he says, leaning around you to move your discarded shirt to the floor. “Can I take it off?”
You nod with a stupid smile. Fond and too eager. “Please.”
“How many tries do I get?” he asks, grabbing your sides in two gentle hands, pulling you forward into a hug as he reaches behind you for the clasp.
“You can do it one,” you promise, voice a murmur now he’s close to you.
You let your hands rest on his hips as he pinches the clasp and pushes it together. Like magic, it comes apart. Spencer holds the unclasped sides to your naked back for a few seconds, his breath loud in your ear, before he sits back to look at you.
You push the straps of your bra down, let the support of your bra fall away. You ball it up in your lap, sitting there bare-chested and smiling, waiting, hoping you’re as beautiful to him as he’s always made you feel.
His hand climbs your arm. “You’re beautiful,” he says, “can I–”
“Yeah, please. Please.”
His thumb rubs a short line from your navel to the skin just below your breast. Your chest feels suddenly heavy, the half-lidded set of his eyes on you like a weight, but it’s one you realise you like as he rubs the indent of your bra. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb pressing into the underside of your breast, kind but undeniably there, and your body reacts to his touch, which is another thing. He doesn’t coo, but it’s close. “How does that feel?” he asks quietly, drawing under your nipple with his thumb.
“Can you kiss me some more?” you ask, breathless in a way that’s almost painful.
Spencer clutches you by your sides, unafraid to play with you, pressing you down into the bed as his hands traverse up. You shuffle back into the pillows and let your eyes shutter closed, his nose pressing hard into yours as your lips meet again. He kisses hungrily. He’s treated you to a few heavy kisses in the past, nothing compares now to the open crescent of his lips and the feeling of his hands. His tongue is hot where it touches your lips, wading in. You sigh into his mouth and feel his own sigh in return as he breaks it.
“Fuck,” he says, his breath coloured by pleasure. He’s practically moaning in your ear as a big hand squeezes your chest.
You can’t take this. You lift your hips and graze against him, rushing to reach down and slip your skirt over the curve of your ass and over stocking clad thighs. You try to push them along at the same time, breathing hard.
Spencer notices what you’re doing and reaches to help.
“Your shirt,” you argue, faces close, his confusion an inch away, as are his pinked lips, “take your shirt off, Spencer, I can do this myself.”
“But why should you have to?” he says, though he listens, making quick work of his button up.
You kick your stockings off of your feet and lay there, warm, overwhelmed but desperate at once, watching him on his knees as he manages his last button and peels out of his shirt. You cross your legs tightly against the achy heat blooming in your cunt, uncharacteristically shy.
His chest is pale, without a freckle nor beauty mark, but he’s shapely. You've kissed him so much these last few months, traced the hills and rigid muscle of his front with an adoring hand under his clothes, but the two of you being similarly bared is different.
It’s worse when he reaches for the button of his slacks.
You bite your lip. “Spencer, can I do it?”
“Yeah.” He swallows again. “Of course you can. Don’t ask me.”
He’s getting warm, curls of his hair falling into his eyes, his breath a constant huff. The bulge of him through his slacks draws your attention. You crawl toward him where he’s kneeling, checking his face. When he nods, you rub the very pad of your thumb against the line of his cock, feel it jump at your touch. Your heart jumps in a similar place.
“This okay?” you whisper, your touch light enough that you’re surprised he can feel it.
“Please.” He says your name like you’ve hurt him. “Please. Take them off.”
“I can’t believe you’re like that just from kissing me,” you say sincerely, a mumble as you pop the button and dig your fingertip under the zipper, which you pull down in one smooth line. There’s an immediate release of pressure against his cock. You blink. It’s so warm in here. “Spence, can I–”
“Please.”
You nod to yourself and shift onto one elbow, shocked and even warmer when Spencer plumps a pillow behind you. Your anticipation is an ache that won’t ebb, hands trembling again as you pull the band of his pants down his hips and expose a pair of white and blue boxer briefs. A darkened patch of material rests against the tip of his cock, the curve of him ever harder as you touch him.
He sucks in air through his teeth.
“Aw, Spence,” you say, pressing the length of your thumb to his cock and breathing out as you ride the curve of him up to that wet spot. “Sweetheart… Does that feel good?”
He closes his hand on top of yours and holds you there. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.
“I think I gotta kiss you first,” you say, eyes on his straining boxers. “Think you might need one.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t. I’ll ruin everything before we’ve even started, you can’t kiss me like that.”
“Are you sure? I can make sure you’re ready.”
You’d never force him into anything. You’re letting him know it’s alright. You’re not gonna push him over the edge before he’s done, you just wanna do all the stuff with him that you’ve been dreaming about for a while now. You have a feeling he might enjoy it.
“You can tell me to stop whenever you need me to,” you say softly, feeling his cock twitch in your hand at the mere sound of your voice. “I wanna see you.”
He laughs infectiously, almost drunkenly, the two of you giggling as he shifts your hands. He doesn’t say anything more, only moves your hands down over the softer base of his cock to encourage his pants out of the way, and then his boxers.
His cock is pretty like he is as he pulls it out. You knew it would be. A little taller than your hand, he tugs it toward his stomach and you watch in delight as a string of precum catches the light, wetting his palm.
You’re patient. He lets it stand without help and you curl your hand where his had been at the base, his cock shining in lines, that welling of precum spread messily around and worse when you give a soft pump. “Oh my god,” he mumbles, shuffling closer to you on his knees, his hand leaping to your shoulder. “Oh, god.”
You tilt your head. “How’s that, baby?”
“Please, angel.”
You lean in for a kiss.
Just a kiss, but your lips part, your spit ready on your tongue and slick in a heavy line up the side of his cock. All you can think of in that moment is how much you want him, how gentle his hand is on your shoulder despite the wounded little breath he lets out, and the stickying feeling of wetness that grows between your thighs, your underwear damp at the very centre and clinging to you as you crawl as close to his front as you can get. You kiss and kiss up the side of him, not silly enough to love on his most sensitive skin at the head, not after his warning, though the idea of his cock shuddering against your lips and tongue makes you squeeze your eyes closed.
You kiss shy of his tip and tilt your head back to look at him. He’s already watching you, squinting with a palpable agony.
“Are you okay? Is that alright?” you ask, loosening your grip on his cock to draw a loving, sweet line down, and down.
He catches your wrist. “You can’t do that again,” he warns gently, hint of a smile in his eyes. You beam at him adoringly. “Lay back? There’s something in my way.”
“In your way,” you murmur through a smile, laying back in the pillows as he’s asked you.
Spencer sheds his slacks and boxers. You pull your legs up to give him room to kneel on the bed by your legs, pulse like a constant humming ache against your cunt as he takes your calves into his hands and presses your knees together. “You’re not gonna say please like I did, are you?” he asks.
“Do you need me to?” you ask, teasing him with your own hand, letting it travel from the base of your throat and over a tightened breast to your stomach, then your underwear. You flick the waistband. His eyelashes flare. “I can say please, Spence, I’d love to say please for you. Is that what you want me to do?”
“I don’t ever want you to say please, you know that.” He encourages one leg flat to the bed. The other, he pushes up, fabric of your underwear tight to your warm cunt and heartbeat surely taking up station in your throat. “Maybe I can say please.” His hand coasts down your thigh. “Would you like that?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t say please, or don’t touch you?” he asks, stopping his squeezing.
“Spencer!” you laugh, moving your hips ever so slightly, raising them in hopes of his understanding. “This is cruel, I didn’t tease you.”
“You’re nice,” he says, again pressing your leg up toward your stomach, eyes on the bump of your cunt as he begins to lean down. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a surprising kiss to your soft inner thigh. “So perfect.” Closer now, nose skirting toward the elastic of your underwear. “Please, can I?”
You press your shaky hand to your lips, palm out. “Please,” you say into your skin. “Yeah. Yes, you can. Can you?”
A kiss to the skin beside your cunt, his free hand riding up to squeeze the bump of it, his thumb pressing against wet heat, your breath caught. He rubs a line up from the wet to your clit, and he smiles when he finds it, though that smile is swiftly overtaken by parting lips as he kisses a mixture of skin and fabric and starts to suck. You hiccup at the feeling.
“You sound cute when you’re happy,” he says into your thigh. He turns his head slowly, looking up at you, his thumb rubbing almost absentmindedly at the sensitive little hood of your clit, your nerves all over the place. He’s giving you the puppy eyes, big and brown and in sickly love with you.
“Happy’s not the right word,” you breathe out.
“I should fix that, right?”
Your stomach does a hard flip. “Yeah.”
Spencer isn’t as timid about it as you’d imagined he’d be, his reality better than any fantasy, his hands kind but quick where twists his fingers into the waistband of your underwear as he begins pulling them down.
He lets out a long breath as the air kisses your cunt, his eyes trained obviously on one spot in particular as he takes your panties all the way to your feet. He rolls one leg off, leaves the other hanging at your ankle as he grabs the soft underside of your knee and encourages your leg up.
You can feel your cunt spread, feel the wetness that had been growing dribble from you. “Ah,” you say, more breath than word while he holds your leg in place. “Spencer–”
“Am I hurting you?”
“No, no, I just need you to touch me, please, I–”
He says your name, says, “Hey, don’t talk like that, I’ve got you, I’m gonna touch you, just needed to know you’re okay–”
“Spencer–” you squirm with wanting.
“I know,” he says, the tip of his cock turned impossibly red where it’s resting against the heaving of his abs, “trust me.”
He reaches for your abdomen, his palm resting lovingly on the pudge of your tummy. You squirm for it lower. “If you think I’m not gonna give you everything you want, you're crazy. When don’t you get your way?” He leans down, and to your relief, your little gasp of breath, he kisses your naked cunt. “When don’t I want to give it to you?” he asks into your skin.
Every word he says is heat and movement against the nerves that make up your clit. You practically shiver as he lets his lips part against you and kisses all over, unafraid to feel every little bit of you, his tongue pressed wet and flat your softest parts. You spread your legs in anticipation of him, his thank you a kiss that lights up every nerve ending you have that stems from your hips, the breath racing out of you and moans not far behind. He rubs the length of your leg, his fingers trailing towards his kissing. The hand that isn’t up to something just loves on your skin. The hand that is pauses shy of your cunt’s wet hole —you can’t help letting out a choked moan as he sucks on your clit and the skin around it, sudden, the feeling of hot slick dripping from you worse as he pulls away with a quiet pop.
His lips shine in the lamplight. “I’m gonna start getting you ready, okay?” he asks, a small smile somewhere in the midst of a gaze that’s otherwise laden with lust. His fingertips tease your entrance. “What do you think, angel, can I do that?”
You might need a kiss to get through it. You can’t decide whether you want him to keep eating you out like that, like you’re water to the famished, like he’s worried he’s not quick enough to get every bit of you where he wants it, but you’re so desperate to be fucked by him that you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. “Spencer, you need to kiss me,” you decide.
“I am–”
“No, come here. Need you on top of me. You can get me ready,” you agree, eyes peculiarly damp, “but I really wanna kiss you right now, baby, please, please–”
He’s on top of you by your second please. You gasp at the rigidity of his cock pressing to your cunt and find it lost in his mouth, his fingertips wet with sex pressed to the side of your face. He remembers himself, kisses all the same but hand moving down again, turning his weight onto the bed and off of you as he feels at your cunt. His fingers slide through hair and wetness alike to tease at your cunt. You can feel wet on his fingers as he pushes in just a centimetre, again on his thumb when he circles your heat carefully, and all the while he’s kissing you like he’s been starved of you. He’s saying angel and so pretty against your stinging mouth.
It’s strange when he pushes two fingers in, but not bad. You’ve never done this with one another, and it takes him a few careful thrusts of his fingers to figure out where he should be directing his motion, and what to do to make you happy. You nod into his mouth as he finds a sweet spot and presses into it, quirked fingers quick to the very last knuckle, his pinky and index fingers sliding without resistance against the wet mess on either side of your cunt. “There?” he asks.
“Yes,” you say, pulling his face closer to yours, your hands twined deep in his hair.
He digs around against your walls, to your abject joy and something else, some emotion you can’t name, the want to be touched everywhere by him, to be the kind of full of him where you can’t breathe.
He presses his fingers inside you, undulating against the gum of your walls, and groans into your lips as you pull in a shivery breath. His hips jerk hard, his cock sliding against your stomach hot as a brand.
Spencer pulls up. You’re in the throes of one another, but his eyes are clear. “How do you want it?” he asks tenderly. “Can I stay here, or should I move back?”
“Just to start, it’s always tight–” You catch your breath now he’s paused, stroking curls away from his flushed cheeks. “I’ll sit up a little and you can still hold my hand,” —he doesn’t question this even for a second— “just so you can see what you’re doing, and then–”
“It’s okay, we can work it out,” he interrupts. “I’m not gonna rush and hurt you.”
“I didn’t think you would,” you whisper, cupping his face in your hand.
He ducks in for a slow, chaste kiss.
“I know you didn’t,” Spencer says. He takes another kiss, pressing one to the top of your chin.
Then he’s shuffling backwards and off of you, and he’s grabbing your hips, lifting you up as he positions himself at your cunt. You shuffle back in the opposite direction to wedge yourself firmly in his pillows, knees up and heels either side of his lap as he moves in. His cock rubs against your cunt by accident, then quickly again with a deliberateness, like he’d felt you and couldn’t help himself.
“God, you’re so pretty,” he says. His eyebrows pinch together in a glare, his thumb pressing to your clit. There’s no purchase there anymore, your wetness having made its way up, but he rubs it nonetheless. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
You grab his hand. Twine your fingers into his. “I love you, Spence,” you say easily. “Don’t be shy.”
He’s giving you that Can’t believe I’m with you look that he often does. It reminds you of the first time you met when you’d called him beautiful without knowing he’d mean this much to you one day, because he really was gorgeous, everything you’d ever want in a guy and lovelier after. You flirted your way into being his friend, and one day your hand-holding was hugging, your friendly cheek kissing turned to lazy hickeys, and he’s still giving you that look. Like he doesn’t deserve you. Like you’re gonna disappear.
You reach between your centre and his to nudge his hand down, guiding him into place. “Say you love me,” you request in a murmur.
“I love you,” he says, head of his cock against your opening. He abandons your clit, to your disappointment, but he’s grabbing the rump of your ass and hip to hold you in place.
He is achingly, achingly slow. He’s so gentle with his thrusts that you feel like you could love him twice as much as when you started, his wrinkled brow, his eyes flitting between your face and the stretch of your cunt to check on you as he goes. He reaches a natural resistance, nothing he couldn’t push past if he didn’t want to, but he doesn’t have to —he’s not fully sheathed and yet you’re aflame with pleasure. He’s at just the right angle. All he needs to do is move.
“There?” he asks softly,
“Please, right there.”
He pushes forward and a breath leaves his lips like you stole it. “You’re tight,” he says, “I knew you would be at first, but I didn’t expect– do I need to stop?”
“No, no, that’s the best part…” You close your eyes. If he weren’t holding your hand you’d cover your face. “Spence, it’s supposed to feel like this, baby. You just find the way you like it and I’ll tell you if it’s not right.”
“Promise?”
“Promise– oh.”
The fronts of his thighs press to yours, his cock flush to your walls and digging into something sweet and sensitive enough to make your thighs shake. Good luck, you think, for the two of you to fit together like this, for his cock to fill you without hurting or leaving you wanting, even though he’s just a little over half inside. He goes slow, almost repetitive, his thumb drawing dedicated half circles into the back of your hand where he’s securing it to your hip. Breathe, you think, I have to breathe. There’s nobody here but Spencer. You can show him exactly how this is making you feel.
“Fuck,” you say, letting out a little moan, worried it won’t be something he likes.
“Fuck,” he echoes emphatically, “does that feel good, angel?”
“Uh-huh,” you say. His chest shines with sweat, his cock driving in, all his touching and adoring drawing a litany of your most vulnerable sounds, hiccups and whimpers, beggy breaths that plead for him to do exactly what he’s doing until he can’t.
“Can you keep your leg up?” he asks.
“What?”
“Can you lift your leg, angel? I need my hand.”
You nod hurriedly and hold your leg aloft as he’d been, not pretzeled but giving him the room he needs to drive forward. He’s swift in his intention, pressing his free hand to your cunt, unabashed, marriage and middle finger slippery against the head of your clit and drawing precise circles. After a few timid thrusts of his hips, he matches speed. Every thrust met with a circle of your clit, his face dipping down to kiss your leg.
“There,” he says to your knee, “I got you, I’ll get you there.”
“I don’t wanna cum yet,” you confess.
“No, I know, but you have to feel good, I need to touch my girl.”
You don’t want to argue with that. He’s never said something like that.
He goes on. “You’re so pretty, I don’t know– I don’t–” He gives a tight smile, “don’t think you know how beautiful you are, you feel–” He moans, then, like he’s pleading.
You don’t expect to be close this soon. It had to be the way he’s talking to you, or his lazy mouthing at your cunt before you’d started. “Wait! Wait, Spence, don’t,” —you grab his hand to stop him from drawing anymore circles— “I have to do it, or I’m gonna cum already.”
He says fuck, thrusts in just a little deeper than he had been, head of his cock kissing just the right place, “Show me how to do it the way you need it.”
You play on the edge of your orgasm for long, long minutes, your hand over Spencer’s drawing the smallest of circles, your nerves aching, the pressure of it like his hands pressed to your tummy. Spencer fucks you, fucks into you, ruts into you when you give him a flirty smile, angling his hips a touch to the side.
You usher him down to you, craning your head up to his. “Can I have a kiss?” you ask with a voice stretched to gossamer. You’re in love with him and you could cry for it as he fucks you, but you try not to. Not yet.
Spencer licks his lips. “You can have everything.”
He slows his thrusts to a drag. Slow drag out, full push in. His hips press to yours and you squeak as he fills you with every inch he has, his hands vying for your clammy face.
He can only thrust slowly from there, though it feels like it’s hitting somewhere new, if not deeper. Shifts of his hips against yours, a mess of slick between you and the friction of his skin. You kiss and pant into each others mouths, spit stretching like a string from his lip to yours that he promptly kisses away. It’s everything you needed it to be, and you can’t hold off much longer. “Wanna cum,” you tell him, stroking the skin under his eye, his gaze aligned with yours.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Can you– like before–”
Spencer understands. He sits back, drags you by the hips onto his cock, and set about fucking that dedicated pace, three fingers pressed to your clit. He goes as slowly as you showed him at first, and that in time with his thrusts sends a pleasure through you that makes you gasp. He speeds his hips at the same time as his fingers, your skin so wet that it requires dedication to wind the coil, but he does wind it, over and over and over again until your walls are rigid tight and your hips are working desperately to chase the feeling. He’s pushing you to the edge.
You cum, and your breath gets caught. You force out a breath and you keen in the feeling, covering your face with both hands as Spencer pushes you through it with a few last teasing circles and a couple of quick thrusts.
Spencer knows without asking to slow as you come down. You laugh into your hands.
He doesn’t quibble when you let your legs fall flat around him, only strokes your thigh, paused half inside of you to offer you one of his shy smiles. “You even sound pretty,” he says.
“You think so?”
“Of course I do.”
He takes a measured thrust. He’s not not confident these days, but you can see the man you adore now between your legs, in love with you but not sure what to do. “You can keep going, baby.”
“You sure?” he asks.
It’s gonna be intense, but you want that. “Come back,” you say, angling your tired legs around him. “Come lay on top of me… Please.”
It’ll be nice to hug him now. You whine as his cock slips out of you and again as he lays atop you and slides it back in, your cunt waiting for him and slick as anything as he settles.
“Is this too much?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
He rolls his hips demonstratively. You didn’t know there was anything left there to give him, but he can have it.
You wrap your arms around him, your forearms to the line of sweat on his back, and give him a hard hug. “You can have everything,” you utter, repeating his earlier promise to him with the same encapsulating love as you cling. “Fuck me however you want.”
When it starts again, chills ride up your spine. Spencer finds a place you didn’t know you had and fucks against it with love, so deep you feel like you can’t breathe, his nose rubbing harshly into your cheek. He squeezes your shoulders tight in his arms and you’re sure you’ll never catch your breath again, and you don’t want him to stop. You’ve never felt this close to him.
Your naked chest rises uselessly beneath him as you fall into the whining, pleading bit of sex, your moans half gasp and lost in his hair as he burrows his face into the pillow by your head to hide his same desperation.
“There you are,” he mumbles, hips grinding into yours. He must say your name ten times in a row, each one more frayed than the last, until he’s lost it completely.
“Go faster, sweetheart,” you suggest, squeezing his hips between your thighs.
Spencer begins again in earnest, nipping crescent moons into the curve of your neck, thrusting fast until he can’t. You hear him trip into cumming like it’s an accident, his thighs go all tense and his cock throbs as he presses you flat, flat to the bed.
He gives a last few greedy thrusts before he calms, though he doesn’t stop moving. Spencer rolls his hips for a slow, languishing minute.
His hand finds your shoulder. His face turns to yours as you turn yours to his, two halves of a good kiss.
“I love you,” you whisper.
He’s panting, but his reciprocation is immediate. “I love you more.”
“No, you don’t.”
Spencer lifts himself up enough to wrap his arms behind your head, almost framing your head where you’re laid underneath him. “Trust me, I do.” His eyes shutter. You close your own in wait of another kiss, but he’s sliding the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. He draws a circle, draws soft lines over your cheek in zigzags.
“Tell me what to do now,” he murmurs.
You scratch his back lightly. “Aw, Spencer, just keep doing this.”
Spencer cleans you up and you finally cry, a couple of tears you’re hoping he won’t notice as he drops the towel on your leg. He holds you with his hand behind your back and murmurs words too nice for such silly tears into your cheek, before asking, scared, if he’d hurt you.
“No, no, it’s like the most intense relief in the world!” you tell him, selfishly basking in the muscle of arms where they’re wrapped around you, and his silky hair whispering over your ear. “I feel amazing.”
“I didn’t think you’d be one of the women who cry afterward,” he says. He’s not judging you, simply sharing an observation. It makes sense. You’re not usually emotional in such an unconstrained way.
“I’m really happy.” You pinch his chin mildly.
“Your legs are hurting.”
You let him go. “Yeah, a bit. It’s a nice hurting. Like we went for a really long walk.”
He takes your face into both hands and tips your head back. You’re slouched forward, he’s straight-backed, and he’s taller where he’s grinning at you. His hand comes to rest against one of your breasts, giving it a little cup before he presses it flat over your heart. “I thought you were never gonna calm down.”
“You have that effect on people.”
“Maybe that’s true for you,” he says, tapping your nose with his, encouraging you to lift your chin. “But only one person’s ever made me lose my breath like that,” he adds, your lips touching, not kissing.
You could keep him forever. “Think we should turn our phones back on?” you ask.
“When I’ve made you something to drink, sure. And found you something to wear, right? It’s too cold.”
You’re still hot enough to cook an egg, but you let him take care of you. It’s as good as being fucked, being adored when it’s done. He gives you underwear first, a soft tank top and a pair of panties you’d left here before and he’d washed and pressed, your sweetheart. You’re surprised he doesn’t help you into them, but you notice with fond bemusement that he’s cringing as he steps into a fresh pair of boxers.
“You okay, handsome? Did you tweak something?”
He’s in pants before you realise, standing shirtless with sex-tousled hair. You could ask him back to bed if you weren’t exhausted. “I’m not in shape.”
“I could say otherwise.”
Spencer’s on top of you again in an instant. He sits on your naked leg and pulls down your rising tank top before twinging your hands in his. He’s practically in your lap as he kisses your chin. It’s that earnest you end up giggling, lovestruck, two idiots holding hands. He steals a couple of lazy kisses. You can’t remember how many you’ve had anymore.
“You’re contrary,” he says as he pulls away.
“Can’t you be nice to me? You were acting so nice.”
He slides off of your leg. “You’re my best friend. I hope we’re this happy for the rest of our lives.”
You fist your hand in the rumpled sheets behind you. He’s apparently unaware he’s said the most special thing he could’ve, opening his closet door to retrieve your pyjamas from the shelf he dedicated to you the first time you slept over. You are best friends, is the best part. He’s not exaggerating.
Before he’d ever kissed you, you were in love. You’ve been in love for years.
Spencer drops your pyjamas next to you on the bed. “You want me to help you put them on?”
You have no reason to need help tonight, but you want it. “Yes, please. Can you rub my back after?”
“Yesss. I’d love to rub your back. If we maintain our physical connection after sex, it enhances the relaxing factor but it also prolongs the effect of the oxytocin and dopamine your brain would’ve released when we were–” He picks up your sleep shirt and shakes it out. “Well, you know.”
“Any more sex facts for me?”
Spencer has the nerve to blush, considering the way he’d spoken to you only ten minutes ago. “An orgasm as a woman can lower your risk of heart disease, breast cancer, and depression.”
You smile at him sweetly. “No kidding. How much to get that risk down to zero?”
He kisses your cheek. “You know that’s not how it works.”
“We can still try.”
“Um. Can I have a banana first?”
“I’m kidding!”
“Oh.” He gestures for you to put your arms into the sleep shirt. “Well, maybe you can have a banana too and we’ll see how we feel.”
˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗
Thank you for reading!!!!! I hope you enjoyed it! please reblog or let me know what you thought if you have the time, but I hope you enjoyed regardless!
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poguehearted77 · 1 month ago
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Hi!! I've watched the scene where Sarah is starving and Rafe is pacing around and knowing he has cash in his pocket and doesn't care that his sister is starving and pregnant. I can't help but imagine it if it was reader, and they hooked up once twice or however you see fit, and she's pregnant with his baby.
Would it be any different? Could you write something about that? Take the idea and run with it because im bad at articulating 🤣
Oh yeah, Rafe is a class-A asshole, but he might show just a little remorse if the baby is his.
Love the requests, keep sending em' in!!
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The Moroccan sun was beating down on the group relentlessly, sweating you out and drying you up with the shine of its bright light. The only reason your sweat wasn't dripping off you was because it was quickly soaked up into the modest fabrics around your head.
You'd been travelling tirelessly for the last few days, dangerously too, if you might add. The boat nearly capsized multiple times just trying to make it to Morocco. As if the boat ride wasn't abhorrent enough with your seasickness....and morning sickness...
The constant smell of saltwater and the rocking of the ship had amplified the awful experience and you would spend the first hour in the bathroom regurgitating your insides every morning. It was not fun.
None of the pogues know you're pregnant. Although, Cleo was on to you. One pregnancy was more than enough for the group to worry about. You figured this was something you'd keep to yourself despite the fact the father is currently trekking with you through the hot sands.
The day was only getting hotter. You're thirsty, your lungs hurt and it felt like your own organs were weighing you down. You naturally began to fall behind the group, little by little until the gap was hard to ignore.
"Come on, Y/n. We're not far from the city, just a few more miles." Pope encouraged but it triggered a laboured breath. You're exhausted. A small smile crept on your lips when you noticed John B holding Sarah's hand the whole time, never letting her out of his sight.
For what feels like the eighth time, Rafe looks over his shoulder, more annoyed than ever. "Jeez, would you hurry it up?" You scoff, mustering up enough energy to kick up some sand at his legs. "Nice. Real mature, Y/n." His sarcasm rolls off his tongue and you ignore him as you walk past him.
Once you finally made it into the city, you all needed something to eat. Sarah wasn't feeling so great and neither were you. Babies are nothing but greedy entities consuming all the nutrients you need.
You leaned against the cool rock wall, watching the others run off to help themselves to a five-finger discount. With your eyes closed, you tried to distract yourself from the ache in your abdomen. Not sure if it was the baby or your hunger, possibly a mix of both.
Without even realizing it, you let a hand rest lightly over your stomach. It was still early, you weren't showing and you thank god.
"We're wasting time!" You hear Rafe yell, it doesn't even faze you. He's somewhere near you when he mumbles to himself, "Sitting around on the streets when we should be going after Groff, unbelievable."
What was supposed to be a quick glance your way turns into an elongated stare. His eyes raked over your posture, your shut eyes, brows crunched in distress. He slowly looks down at the placement of your hand.
"Y/n." He says, tugging you into a corner out of sight from the others and you swat him. He shockingly accepts the reprimands and backs off, taking a step back. "What do you want, Rafe?" Your arms cross, waiting for him to say something.
"Is it mine?" Your arms fall slowly, caught, but you deny it. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hardly able to take two steps away before he's barricading you in the corner with his body.
"Don't bullshit me, Y/n. The baby. Is it mine?" You chew on your lower lip, avoiding his chilling gaze. Apparently, that was enough confirmation. "How long have you known?" He takes on a defensive stance.
How the hell were you supposed to know the answer to that? The last week alone has blurred together in memories of rough waters and dry deserts.
All you knew was it happened sometime between the various times you and Rafe swore it would be the last time you fooled around. Unsure if it was the time on his yacht, in the back of his truck or one of the dozen times you somehow ended up in his bed when you swore you were only in figure eight for a 'walk'.
The group had no idea the two of you had been involved with each other aside from the occasionally tense argument, but anyone could admit the two of you can't seem to stay away from one another.
"I dunno, a month maybe?" He pressed both hands to his forehead, fingers spread wide, and slowly dragged them down, smearing the tension all the way to his chin.
"Let's go." His grip on your hand forces you to follow his long strides between the bustling kiosks until you land inside a Delhi. You're too stuck inside your own mind to process what was happening until you watched Rafe lift the bottom of his shirt, revealing a fanny pack with a considerable amount of money.
"Of course. Of course, you had money this whole time! Of course, you let the others go stealing--!" He hushes you as the owner flashes you a look of concern, "Listen, I'm not the one who told those pogues to go looting. I've got money for more important shit than their sad jewel hunt." He explains, paying for the items with a small nod of gratitude towards the man.
Turning to you, he placed a sandwich in one hand, and a cool bottle of water in the other. "This," He starts, his palm gently resting against your stomach. For the first time in a long time, his brows relax and his gaze softens when he looks at you. "This is more important."
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a-substantial-trash-pile · 2 months ago
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Catalyst
so in my au which i'm totally not using to cope or anything haha, after realizing that curly isn't going to do anything about jimmy, anya confides in swansea and he goes Protective Dad Mode. i'm calling this the "Responsibility AU." ramble below cut.
swansea doesn't immediately go after jimmy with an axe or anything because 1. they're not in a high stress life/death crash situation and 2. anya specifically requests that swansea not enact violence upon jimmy after swansea says, and i quote, "i'm gonna beat his ass." anya just wants to feel safer and more supported on the ship—she doesn't want swansea to get in trouble even if jimmy does deserve to get destroyed by 10000 punches.
what swansea can do is watch out for anya and make sure she's never alone in a room with jimmy. if there's a situation where she has to be alone with jimmy (like the psych evals), she and swansea have a system where she can signal for help. with anya's permission, swansea asks daisuke to help look out for her too (without telling him the details as to why since that's anya's right to share or not). daisuke has already picked up at this point that something is wrong based on how much more hostile swansea's become towards jimmy, and he trusts his boss, so he agrees without much question.
anya, feeling less alone now that she has people watching her back, gains more confidence to stand up to jimmy. which makes him angry because his unwanted advances are being denied and swansea and daisuke keep getting in his way. he just can't understand why he's being treated as the bad guy here (this is because he is a delusional asshole).
meanwhile curly is slowly realizing that he needs to actually do something here because the tension in the crew is palpable and increasing by the day. also swansea is being mighty passive aggressive to him and talking about "responsibility" a lot. curly keeps trying to talk to jimmy about it but the guy just keeps downplaying it and blaming everyone else but himself. and curly is realizing that his friend isn't who he thought he was.
it all comes to a head one day when an angry jimmy tries to confront anya alone and swansea steps in. things get heated, people start yelling. curly show up to see swansea and jimmy on the verge of fighting with anya and daisuke trying to hold them back respectively. curly breaks up the fight. jimmy storms off. curly follows him and finds him trying to get the gun from the case in the cockpit. curly asks him why he's doing this and jimmy claims it's for his own protection because he feels "threatened by swansea." he tells curly to give him the code. curly, the sheer wrongness of the whole situation hitting him, finally calls jimmy out on all his bs. jimmy just laughs in his face, still believing that he's not in the wrong and curly doesn't have the guts to do anything anyway. so the captain fires him on the spot. jimmy snaps and he and curly get into a fight in the cockpit. jimmy is trying to crash the ship and curly is trying to stop him. then the rest of the crew show up and anya knocks jimmy's ass out with the gun case. swansea is so proud.
they throw jimmy in the cryopod so they don't have to worry about him pulling anything else and he can be properly dealt with once the stupid delivery is over. everyone's like, "wow that was a close one—could you imagine how messed up it would be if we ended up in a crash because of jimmy? thank god that didn't happen." curly makes swansea the copilot until they can get a replacement and swansea's like, "goddammit as if i don't already do enough shit around here."
anyway my whole goal here was to get rid of jimmy early so i can have beautiful Found Family shenanigans in space with the rest of the crew. apologies and healing and happy times will happen. no the whole getting laid off thing doesn't happen. no i don't have an explanation for it. sorry for the essay.
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deathbxnny · 26 days ago
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Hi I love your writing!! can I request headcanons of arcane characters if they’re s/o was blind??💕
Arcane characters with a s/o that's blind! | Ekko, Vi, Jinx, Viktor x Gn! Reader
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I absolutely love this idea, so thank you very much for your request, and I hope you'll enjoy this!<3
Content: Reader is blind/visually impaired, romantic relationships, fluff, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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》EKKO
He doesn't treat you any differently than anyone else, just based on your disability, but still does his best to make the hideout as accessible as possible for you. Ekko never wants you to feel like a burden either.
He definitely sometimes forgets that you're blind and asks your opinion on things he was looking at aa if you could see them too. He gets very embarrassed after realising, but you at least find it endearing.
Anyone who comments on your disability negatively will be dealt with. The last thing he wants is for you to feel bad about it when you should feel supported instead.
Allows you to touch his face or hair whenever you want, since that's the best way for you to visualize him. He'll shyly deny any compliments you give him but is deep down very flattered that you find him handsome even with your inability to see.
Since you can't fly a hover board on your own for obvious reasons, he often takes you on rides himself. He'll keep a tight hand around your waist whilst he enjoys the sight of you giggling and laughing in the evening sun with him.
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》VI
God forbid anyone ever mistreats you or speaks badly about your disability because she won't hesitate to end them. You definitely have to hold her back at least once a day from putting someone 6 feet under.
With that said, she's extremely overprotective, perhaps near overbearing at times. She doesn't want you to accidentally get hurt or lost, especially when you're walking around Zaun.
She guides your fingers across her many tattoos, hoping you'll be able to visualize what they look like that way when you're curious about them. Vi is thankful that you can't see her red face.
She definitely also sometimes forgets your blind, which always ends up in a laughing fit for you. Hearing her embarrassed apologies always makes you feel so at ease about your disability.
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》JINX
She was fascinated by you from day one. Something about you perceiving the terrible world she grew up in so differently drew her to you deeply. You couldn't see the flaws across her face and body or the shimmer that glowed in her eyes and ruined her from the inside. No, you saw her soul, and that's what made her love you.
Her hideout is practically baby proofed for you with special handrails and fences that protect you from accidentally falling off. It took her days to make, but seeing your excited face at the accessibility made it all worth it.
Jinx and Isha always hold your hand when walking around outside, as Zaun, just so you don't get lost or hurt.
Anyone who tries hurting or insulting you is as good as dead, so you never have to worry about a thing with her around.
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》VIKTOR
He understands you better than anyone else due to his own disability. He never wants you to feel like he does and therefore makes sure you don't feel like a burden or discouraged by it.
Viktor makes many little inventions for you that help you around the house or in public. Whether it's for navigating the city safely or cooking up a meal completely on your own without incident, everything he does is for you to strengthen your sense of independence, since he knows you can't always rely on him.
He takes small walks around campus with you and describes your surroundings in great detail whilst holding onto your hand tightly.
Viktor also definitely likes to joke that you're matching whenever you both are out with a cane in hand. Hearing you giggle about it every time makes his day.
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hiraethwrote · 2 months ago
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best friend!satoru who you’ve known for years, a fact he is very proud of. he loves how he is the privileged one to have known you the longest. he often mentions small quirks you have just to subtly brag that he isn’t just the one who has known you the longest, but he also knows you the best.
and when people ask how long you’ve been friends for, because you just flow so well together, he grows giddy when you huff in thought before eventually answering “oh, i don’t know, feels like forever sometimes.”
best friend!satoru who was your first kiss — but not because there was a natural development. you just wanted to get it over with, as all of your peers had already had theirs.
he was so absolutely baffled by your innocent request, ogling you with big eyes as you stood in front of him with a grumpy frown, arms knitted in front of you and your foot tapping anxiously. “don’t look at me like that! if you don’t want to, just say so!” you had growled at him, only for him to laugh in your face.
it only infuriated you more. you continued to yell at him, telling him to stop teasing you — but your rant was abruptly cut short when he simply pulled you close to connect your lips, his hand graciously cupping your jaw.
when you eventually pull away, you simply smile and thank him sweetly, turning around to go on with your day as if nothing had happened — you just wanted your first kiss to be over after all. satoru, on the other hand, is left nearly breathless as he suddenly develops the lamest crush on you.
best friend!satoru who is always mistaken for your boyfriend due to his blatant disregard for personal space.
if the question is brought to light when you’re around, you’ll simply laugh and decline saying “we’re just friends” — it’s a different case when he’s asked and you’re not around.
he’ll never directly confirm their suspicions — but he won’t deny them either. no, he’ll only let his face be consumed by the smuggest grin known to mankind, shrug with mischievous intent, leaving people to believe that the answer is yes.
best friend!satoru who introduces you to suguru, excited for his two best friends to meet, certain the you will hit it off right of the bat.
best friend!satoru who desperately tries to ignore the palpable tension that is between you and his raven haired friend. it was very evident from the moment you locked eyes that something were to blossom eventually.
however, satoru truly believes that the tension will cease to exist if he just pretends it isn’t there at all. he is sorely mistaken when it only takes three months for you and suguru to become official.
best friend!satoru who becomes uncharacteristically quiet whenever the three of you hang out together. he can’t help it, shooting jealous glances towards your intertwined fingers before having to try and pretend like nothing bothers him.
both you and suguru try to talk to him when you have him under four eyes, but he will always put on such a genuine smile when he tells you that there’s nothing to worry about.
best friend!satoru who has never been a person to ever live with regret — but now he truly regrets never shooting his shot with you.
in one way, before you started dating suguru, he had felt as if you were already his. not in a possessive way, just in the way that you were so deeply ingrained in each other already.
the relation he has to you is the most genuine in his life, and he took it for granted that you wouldn’t only be for him.
best friend!satoru who can’t help but be upset whenever suguru does something slightly wrong.
he has no real reason to be bothered, because it’s never anything major — and more importantly, you seem more than satisfied by suguru’s gestures.
but if satoru overhears suguru order dinner for the two of you, he can’t help but grimace at how your boyfriend always forget how you like your meat cooked. or when he goes to buy you jewlery for the first time, and satoru is annoyed about the fact that he buys the wrong material — how can he not have noticed?
but he always holds his tongue, never commenting on it to you or to suguru — until he slips up.
best friend!satoru who is casually hanging out at your place one saturday evening. he is desperately trying to cheer you up, as it’s your six month anniversary with suguru but he had to be out of town.
suddenly the doorbell rings. not long after you return with a huge smile on your face. and in your hands, the most beautiful bouquet of roses.
and even though you look happy enough, there’s only one thought that goes through satoru’s mind: “but peonies are your favourite.” he doesn’t mean to say it out loud. he doesn’t realise he has until he notices the glare of bewilderment you give him, trying to find the right words to say in the situation.
it’s not until his tiny comment you start to notice just how much satoru knows about you, stuff that suguru should know.
best friend!satoru who is constantly caught in the middle by the increasing amounts of petty fights between you and suguru. he gets to hear two sides of the same issue, and always find himself leaning in favour of you.
he tries to comfort you, like he has done for so many years, reassure you that you’re not crazy for feeling this way — and he always ends your venting sessions with “i really hate to see you like this, you know.”
best friend!satoru who witness how you always resolve things with suguru, learning from the situation. and he quietly hates himself for it wishing you weren’t able to talk things through.
best friend!satoru who constantly lives in with the naive hope that one day you will realise that suguru just isn’t right for you — that he is the one who knows you through and through, and therefore the only one who would be able to give you exactly what you deserve.
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©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
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xazse · 3 months ago
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not rlly a request but it can be if uw??
I can't stop thinking abt kitty hybrid user and some big cat hybrid gojo (snow leopard, tiger, lion, etc). Suguru originally had hybrid Gojo as a pet, but then found kitty reader and decided to adopt them, and the moment Gojo sees them, he instantly decides that reader is his mate, and just follows them around like a dumb puppy. He'll cling onto reader and groom them all day, licking their fur and their face and not stopping even when reader complains or when Suguru tries to step in. Gojo is super super possesive of reader, and insists on eating, sleeping and bathing with reader, and will start shredding cushions or other things if denied. He's a big cat, so his claws do some serious damage to furniture, so Suguru has no choice but to give in if he doesn't want to spend everything in his bank account to repair the damage. I'd imagine Gojo and reader would have a similar dynamic to your puppygirl and wolf Gojo fics, but Gojo is the one teasing and getting all over reader. Reader's just too innocent to realise what's going on, so they just let Gojo do whatever. Thanks for reading my little blurb, I just needed to get it out!! Hope u have a nice day ❤️
The Preakness in this needs to be studied omg
I want to expand.
KittyHybrid !reader x Tigerhybrid!Gojo
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Satoru really thinks he owns you like literally thinks you were bought just for him when that’s not the case, well yeah you were bought for companionship but Suguru also got you because he felt the house was too manly? It would be nice to have a girl around. So he got ur little cute self, at the hybrid facility you were the sweetest thing ever, you’d lay yourself all over Suguru in a ploy to go home with him, he of course gave in.
The first few days he has to keep you separated from Satoru for obvious reasons, Satoru is extremely protective over the house, Suguru can’t have any company over besides Shoko who he tolerates in his space. When he first smelt you he was angry, he couldn’t tell you what you were so he was on edge, the thing is he had only smelled you not seen you.
Suguru has you in another room letting you get familiar with Gojos scent and also letting him get familiar with yours, Gojo really won’t leave the locked door you’re behind alone he’s constantly coming near it to sniff and try to unlock it, Suguru has to guide him to get away from it every single time.
When he does meet you a warmth blooms within his chest, women are such a rarity for Satoru especially other hybrids, you don’t come from the same family as him but he’s so obsessed.
He insists that he have an hour licking session of him using his slimy tongue to clean you even though you really don’t need it! Everytime you try to pry him off in a whiny tone he’s hearing none of it. It gets to the point where you have to whine for a suguru to help you: he does but Satoru has the meanest fucking expression on his face when you’re pried from his arms. He goes on to have an attitude for the rest of the day.
You’re so right about Gojo scratching couches with his sharp claws in retailiation, he gets soo clingy with you, so angry when Suguru separates you it’s so bad that like you said Suguru doesn’t want to deal with him ruining expensive things around the house, that doesn’t mean he’ll let Satoru do whatever he wants with you there are some limits.
Most of the time you’re nice and pliant in Satoru’s lap, you don’t fight back when he carries you around the house simply just letting the huge tiger do what he pleases.
You don’t seem to mind when he rubs himself all over you, purring so loudly because he’s just that obsessed with the docile kitty.
Tiger!Satoru loves your little cunt just as much as he loves the rest of you, he’s only gotten to feel your warm insides once because that’s where Suguru drew the line hard. It was the best day of his life, all you did was mewl below him while he stuffed you full of his fat cock, he came so quickly that night.
He craves to feel you again but Suguru stood his ground, he’d get rid of you if it came to that again (not that he wanted to, Suguru really loved having you around the house it was just an empty threat that seemed to work)
Tiger!Satoru will settle for licking and giving you nasty slippery kisses!
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fandoms-x-reader · 4 months ago
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Feeling Sheepish
Requested By: @deludedprime
Summary: You were a sheep for your exchange year in the Devildom (Season 1) but during your time in the human world, the spell wore off. When Solomon brings you back to the Devildom (Season 2), everyone has a different reaction to your new body. The Seven Demon Brothers & Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon Featuring Luke, Raphael, Mephisto, and Thirteen Word Count: 3,737 Characters are written in chronological order instead of the normal order! Based on Lesson 21-1 & 21-2
Being a sheep in the Devildom wasn’t as bad as it may seem at first glance.
There’s no denying that safety was an issue. After all, you were small and somewhat defenseless if a demon tried to attack you.
But, you didn’t need to use nearly as many resources to take care of yourself. And, on top of that, it was easy to make friends when you looked so adorable and approachable.
Being a sheep also took away the social construct of beauty. There was no way anyone could judge the way you dressed or did your hair because you were simply a sheep.
So, while there was a bit of an adjustment period at first, by the end of your exchange year in the Devildom, you had grown accustomed to being a small creature.
But, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end, and before you knew it, it was time for you to leave the Devildom.
You were heartbroken to leave your friends - but, you weren’t even sure if they could see the tears you were shedding as a sheep.
And then with a blink of an eye, you were teleported back to the human world and that was the end of it.
Luckily, the spell wore off pretty quickly when you returned to the human world and you had your normal body back.
And whether or not that was what you wanted, you knew it was probably for the best. After all, what considerations were held for you as a sheep in the Devildom, certainly wouldn’t be held in the human world.
You could be shaved bald for your wool or get put on a farm. Or worse. There were some places where sheep was a common cuisine.
Becoming a human once again required yet another adjustment period. You had to relearn how to walk on two feet instead of four. You had to make sure you were dressed properly and that your hair was neat.
Not to mention the fact that you were starving. As a sheep, you ate such small portions. Now, you felt like you had to make up for lost time. 
Everyone from the Devildom continued to stay in contact with you, of course. But, all they could hear was your voice. They couldn’t see you.
So they were none the wiser when it came to your sudden transformation. They were completely in the dark. 
At least that was the case until one day, Solomon showed up to see you.
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Solomon was planning a trip back to the Devildom and he was planning on taking you.
Truth be told, he missed it down there. The memories that he experienced were full of fun and endearing moments. And, he wanted to make some more.
You were typically at the center of those memories, and as such, he couldn’t imagine returning to the Devildom without you.
The two of you had stayed in touch, sending messages here and there and even calling when the time allowed it.
But, it was nothing like before - which is why Solomon decided to surprise you by showing up in person.
He used a tracking spell to find your location and continued to text you to keep up the ruse.
His eyes scanned the area for your little sheep form and he got a bit worried when he couldn’t find you. He was positive he had done the tracking spell right.
That’s when he noticed someone walking and texting - on a D.D.D.
It wasn’t like those were popular in the human world. You could only get them from the Devildom - which meant…
The realization dawned on Solomon that the spell that turned you into a sheep would have worn off by now, and he connected the dots.
He took a brief couple of moments to take in your new appearance. He felt privileged to be the first one to see you in your human form.
Then he approached you and he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips when you looked into his eyes with soft familiarity in yours.
Solomon would love to whisk you away and spend the day with you. To have some alone time with you before the others stole every second of your time.
But - he was on a mission. He came to you for a reason. 
A reason that he didn’t give you much time to ponder over before teleporting the two of you back to the Devildom.
Back to your friends.
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Lucifer was stunned when he watched two humans fall through the portal that had opened up in the middle of the assembly room.
He recognized Solomon right away. He wore a smile as he landed on his feet gracefully.
The one Lucifer didn’t recognize was the human who had crash-landed on top of Satan.
From his position, Lucifer could see that they were attractive, but why had Solomon brought them there?
“Whoops. Sorry, about that Y/N. I really should’ve warned you to be careful where you land,” Solomon stated and it all became clear to Lucifer.
You were the human that had stolen all of their hearts. You were the one they had been pining over and longing for since the moment you left the Devildom.
And now you were in your true form.
And your true form seemed to have an even greater effect on the eldest.
“Y/N…?! Solomon…!” were the only two words that came out of Lucifer’s mouth as he was still trying to process everything.
He was trying to hold it together. He was doing what he could to not show any weakness.
He wanted to remain as calm and composed as he normally was, but his eyes refused to listen as they were continuously drawn to you, taking in every inch of your appearance.
And when you finally smiled at him, he knew it was over for him.
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“AAAAAH!! Wha…wha…WHA?! Is this really…are you really really…REALLY?!”
Levi was so overwhelmed by the situation that he wasn’t able to form real words.
He felt like his brain was racing at a hundred words a second.
He had just got his friend back - his true friend.
And he was so excited to see you again.
Except it wasn’t the you he had gotten to know over the past year.
Now, you were back in your human body and despite him mostly being excited, he couldn’t help but be intimidated.
Like Lucifer, Levi did his best to not trail his eyes over your new body and when he caught himself doing so, his cheeks turned a bright pink and he mentally scolded himself.
Levi could barely manage to not freak out in your presence when you were a sheep. How was he supposed to do that now that you were a human?
And not just any human, but an attractive one!
Levi’s overthinking could have given him a panic attack on the spot if it weren’t for the fact that he was in front of everyone else.
He just needed to keep reminding himself that you were the same person he had come to know and love.
Maybe then he would still be able to hang out with you despite the fact that your new form made his heart race and made his palms sweaty.
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“Y/N, it’s YOU! It’s REALLY YOU!”
Asmo’s excitement showed more than his other brothers’ as they all processed your new form in their own way.
Asmo, for one, was soo ecstatic about the new change in your appearance.
Could you blame him? He was the Avatar of Lust and you just showed up in a new body.
When you were a sheep, you had a personality that could charm anyone, anywhere.
And now you had a body that could do the same. 
Asmo’s eyes had a special glint in them as his questions filled his mind.
How smooth was your skin?
Were your lips as soft as they appeared?
Did your hair feel as healthy as it looked?
Asmo got even more excited as he realized now he would be able to do all of the beauty treatments with you and see them in full effect.
There was only so much you could do as a sheep. After all, wool was a lot different from skin.
If he’s caught staring at your new body, Asmo will be shameless about it.
It’s not like he doesn’t have a good reason to stare.
He just couldn’t wait for the student council meeting to be over so they could all take you back to the House of Lamentation.
Asmo wanted every single one of his questions answered, and he couldn’t do that in the middle of the Assembly Hall.
Well…he could, but Lucifer would probably be mad.
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Mammon went through a full mood swing. 
At first, he was confused because a random human just dropped into the middle of their meeting. 
But when Solomon said your name, everything changed for Mammon.
He hadn’t stopped blushing since he realized that the random human was - his human.
Mammon had a hard time trying not to admit his feelings for you when you were a sheep.
But now - now you were a human.
A human that he could hug, kiss, and cuddle if you let him.
He told his mind to stop thinking such thoughts but it would respond by flooding his brain with even more thoughts and images.
He wore a smile the more he looked at you. He had missed you so much.
But, in his true, tsundere fashion, he couldn’t let you catch onto how much he missed you.
“Wait, wh…huh?!...I knew you missed me and all, but THIS is just crazy!”
Mammon thought he did a good job of remaining composed.
He believed he did a good job of hiding the fact that you being there - in this form - was making his head spin and making him weak in the knees.
But when the two of you locked eyes, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep his charade up for much longer.
You were his weakness as a sheep, now you were his kryptonite.
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“Y/N…”
Satan was trying to analyze the situation. 
You fell on top of him when you came out of the portal and he was completely blindsided by the contact.
So he was trying to still gather his bearings while his brothers spoke.
When he finally did manage to get back to his feet, Satan asked, “Do you want to tell me why you just appeared out of thin air and landed on my head?”
But as Satan faced you to ask that question, he took in your appearance and a small blush coated his cheeks.
Suddenly, he was happy that you landed on him. Thankful even.
He had noticed that when you landed on him, you were definitely bigger than a little sheep.
But he didn’t expect this.
He couldn’t imagine if you would have landed on one of his other brothers, especially Lucifer.
The thought alone threatened to spark his wrath.
Satan let his eyes trail down you, studying your new body as if it were a new piece of information he was learning.
And he had never been so excited to learn.
This was a subject he would happily study in depth if you allowed him to.
For now, Satan settled on helping you to your feet, your hand feeling much softer and warmer than the hoof that he was used to feeling.
And as you stood close to him, his heart skipped a beat.
He knew that everyone was going to be in deep trouble now that you had gotten your true form back.
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“How about that! Y/N, it’s really you!!”
Diavolo had a boyish grin on his face as he spoke to you. He had missed you just as much as the brothers had, whether he showed it as much as they did or not.
He knew that the spell that turned you into a sheep must have worn off by now.
But, still, it was a surprise to see you in your human body.
He had to admit - you were quite the head-turner.
A twinge of fear set into Diavolo as he questioned how you ended up in the Devildom again.
“Wait, you didn’t perform some sort of unsavory ritual to cast your soul down here, did you?! You better not have!”
When you shook your head no, Diavolo let out a breath of relief, knowing that you were okay.
“I can’t believe you’re actually back here with us again!” he added, his smile returning.
Diavolo could see how good you were for his kingdom.
He could see the way you changed things for the better, and he could see how negative things were without you.
Your presence brought a light to their lives that he had been missing.
And that light shone even brighter in your real body. 
Diavolo would be lying if he said he didn’t find you attractive. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t been sneaking glances this entire time.
But he had to keep his composure in front of everyone.
When the two of you were alone though - and he would make sure that you had some alone time - that’s when he would let his true feelings show.
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“Yes. This really is quite the happy surprise. It’s good to see you again, Y/N.”
Barbatos was as professional as ever, but you could see his eyes sparkling just a bit more than usual and his smile reaching just a little further.
Like Diavolo, Barbatos knew that the spell would have worn off by now.
But, it wasn’t something that was talked about. 
It wasn’t a typical topic of conversation and because of that, it was easy to forget that the next time any of them would see you, you wouldn’t be a sheep.
Barbatos was pleasantly surprised.
He had seen your human form once before - the details of which he won’t disclose.
But, seeing you in your human body after he had gotten to know you was completely different.
It elevated his opinion of you and made him believe you really were the most attractive creature he had met.
No other human, demon, or angel had made his heart race the way you did.
Barbatos had taken a backseat during your first year in the Devildom.
He allowed you to make connections with the others first.
But, now, he was excited for his turn.
There were a lot more things he could teach you and bond with you over now that you had your human body back and he was going to take advantage of each of those things.
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Belphie had been doing his best to not fall asleep in the student council meeting.
The last time he did, Lucifer caught and punished him with a whole lot of work and Belphie did not want a repeat of that.
So, he was thankful when the portal opened up, providing a necessary distraction from the boring events that were taking place.
When he saw Solomon fall through the portal, Belphie perked up a bit, curious as to what the mysterious sorcerer had planned this time.
He noticed another human had fallen on top of his older brother and bit back a chuckle at the scene.
When Solomon stated your name, Belphie’s blood ran cold as he began to process the shock.
Was that really you…in that body?!
Belphie had a hundred things to say and to ask. But, he couldn’t get a word in between everyone else, so he quietly took in everything about you.
Your voice was the same and you acted the same. It really was you. 
Belphie couldn’t help but wonder if it would be more fun to cuddle you now.
He would miss the softness of your wool, but would you be warmer now? Or more comfortable to lay on top of?
Belphie was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed you being bombarded with questions of why you were there and he finally decided to speak up.
“Listen, I am curious to know why you’re here. But before we get into that, are you going to be staying for a while? Because if so, you’ll be staying at the House of Lamentation, right? Oh, but wait…I bet your room’s covered in dust…”
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“No problem, Y/N can just sleep in our room.”
Like Belphie, Beel had remained silent until then. 
He had been happily munching on a snack, paying the bare minimum of attention to Diavolo during the meeting as he ate.
But he hadn’t been able to take another bite since you and Solomon fell through the portal. 
Was that what you looked like on a normal basis? Why didn’t you tell him?
He knew that you were a human that had been placed under a sheep transformation spell, but his imagination never could have come up with the beauty you exuded.
You were on a different level than others and he couldn’t take his eyes away from you. 
He noticed his other brothers were having the same trouble looking away, and Beel suddenly felt a twinge of jealousy.
You were in your own body now and part of him wished he was the only one who was able to see it.
Well…it was okay if Belphie saw you like this too.
But, the others were looking at you with a look of lust in their eyes and Beel wanted to sweep you into his arms and keep you from them.
Which is why he jumped at the opportunity to offer his and Belphie’s room to you. 
He couldn’t imagine you staying with one of his other brothers after seeing the look in their eyes.
Surely, something would happen if you did and Beel wanted to burn that imagery out of his mind.
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Simeon had been in contact with the others in the Devildom and when he found out that you had returned, he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing out.
The demons weren’t the only ones who missed seeing you and talking to you.
He felt like he was missing out even more when they told him that you were back in your human form.
Simeon could only imagine what you looked like. What your hair color was, whether you were tall or short, and what kind of clothes you liked to wear?
That possibilities were driving Simeon crazy and before he knew it, he was finding some way to bring you to the Celestial Realm so that he could see you.
He was beyond happy and excited when you agreed to go, and he paced nervously by the gates as he waited for your arrival.
When the gates finally did open, revealing you and Solomon, Simeon felt his breath leave his body.
He always joked about you being an angel based on the things you did, but now you looked like one.
Simeon could write an entire book on how ethereal and stunning you were.
He did his best to remind himself that he was an angel and shouldn’t be entertaining any thoughts that the demons surely had.
But - you were the first human he had ever met that elicited those ideas from him.
He wasn’t sure how much time he had with you - but he knew that he had to make the most of it.
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One of the benefits of being a bit more uncultured and younger than everyone else was that someone’s form didn’t have the same implications for him.
LUKE
Luke had heard from Simeon that you were in your human body, but he didn’t think too much of it.
It didn’t matter if you were a human, a sheep, or anything else. You were still the friend that he came to know and love and want to protect.
Luke had been so excited to show you around the Celestial Realm that he didn’t waste a moment on taking in your new appearance.
Raphael had caught a glimpse of you while you were in the Celestial Realm.
In fact, you would have believed he didn’t notice if it hadn’t been for the fact that you were now bigger than him and did things that you couldn’t do as a sheep.
RAPHAEL
He knew that Simeon and Luke had been excited to see you, so he didn’t dare take your time like they did.
But he saw you chasing after Luke and it made him stop in his tracks as he couldn’t help but stare at you.
He may not have understood your appeal as a sheep. But, seeing you now, he could understand why exactly you had everyone wrapped around your finger.
Mephisto was a bit slow to realize who you were.
And if he wasn’t careful he was sure that someday he may find himself in the same position as the others.
MEPHISTO
He had seen you walking around the Devildom with the others and couldn’t help but wonder who you were and why Diavolo and the others were so close to you.
He had to admit that you were rather attractive, but surely your looks couldn’t be the only reason they were drawn to you.
It wasn’t until one of them said your name while walking by Mephisto that all of the dots connected in his head.
And he wore a small blush as he realized the one he had been admiring from afar was none other than the human exchange student.
The news didn’t deter him though. Instead, it enticed him.
Your new body enticed him.
Thirteen was the last to find out about your new form.
He would have to make himself more useful to Diavolo so that he could find a way to grow closer to you.
THIRTEEN
Like Luke, your body didn’t really make much of a difference to her. After all, she was mostly interested in looking at your soul, and that didn’t change whether you were sheep or human.
But, seeing you for the first time still surprised her. You didn’t look anything like she would have expected - in a good way.
Surely, you would be more useful in helping her make traps in this form.
And she had to admit you were pleasing to look at…
Maybe this was a good thing?
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 1 year ago
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office.
From the request here
“I need it in ya, baby,” Simon gasps in between the breaks in your lips connection. “Just for a bit. Ya know ya fuckin’ want me in ya too.”
The tiny office is silent save for the deep groans and sharp breaths as Simon holds you close, you perched comfortably on his beefy thighs while he sits at his desk so that he can steal kiss after heated kiss, relishing in the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Rough hands run up the length of your back, following your spine over your shirt until they reach the back of your head where he uses them to draw your face in tighter until your mouth stings from the pressure. 
Sitting in the middle of his lap you can feel his cock poking against the cheek of your ass, pulsing and throbbing as it strains against the fabric of his pants. It’s no surprise what he needs; it’s the same thing he wants every time he calls you into his office for a “meeting” during your lunch break, which is becoming more and more frequent these days.
You are a very addictive problem, one that he is constantly losing himself in and making every excuse in the book to spend as much time wrapped up in that he can. A pretty thing like you, how is he supposed to keep his hands off? If that means setting up a quick make out session to get through the day, then he’s gonna make it happen one way or another.
“Have training in a bit,” you mutter as you break from his mouth just for a split second. “Don’t want to be late.”
He’s right back on you before the last beat of your reply can hit, not wanting to be parted from you for longer than needed. It takes a minute before he tries to reason with you again. “Not gonna be late,” he reassures. “But how the hell am I supposed to stay outta ya, hmm? Not when ya feel so fuckin’ good. Just want ya to warm me for a bit and then I’ll make sure you’re outta here with plenty ‘a fuckin’ time.”
His hand rubs along one of your thighs as the other is still tangled in the strands of your hair, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the barrage of his lips. Fuck, it’s getting harder to think straight the longer his mouth captures yours in that tangled dance that he seems to be an expert in. You lean into his embraces a bit more and Simon is sure he has you right where he wants you now.
There is not a chance in hell you are going to deny him. “You better make it up to me later,” you say breathlessly and you can feel his lips upturn into a smile against your own.
The grip on your hair tightens as he gives it a sharp tug. “Take off your fuckin’ pants.”
That gravely, heavily accented tone sends a full shiver down your spine. No one can make a demand like that sound so fucking good, especially now that he’s made you delirious off his kisses alone.
The officers building is full of people today so privacy is near non-existent and though you know this is probably a terrible idea, you can’t be stopped. Helping you off his lap Simon sets you on your feet to the side of the desk, giving you the space to do what you need to do. He watches with hungry eyes as you undo the button keeping your bottoms secure; goddamn you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?
Adjusting himself, he sits back more in his chair. “Slower,” he demands firmly. 
Instantly your movements become measured as you take your time undressing while you keep those beautiful eyes directly on him. He doesn’t break eye contact at all; instead his hand slips down over his abdomen to the crotch of his own pants where he tugs at the fabric tenting there before massaging the spot as he watches your little striptease. Those unflattering uniforms keep all those voluptuous curves hidden from his view and so any chance he gets to see you out of them is a treat indeed. 
You drag the zipper down painfully slow, making sure to give him all the tantalizing he wants. As the front now hangs open, you slide your hands back to your hips where you slip your fingers into the waistband and begin to push them down until the top seam of the panties clinging around your hips are exposed. 
Eyes unblinking, breathing stayed, Simon is caught in the moment, his hand pulling up the hem of his shirt just over his navel so that he can fiddle with his belt buckle until he can pry the damned thing loose. He grunts as he has to roll his hips back so that he can slip his hand between the bulk of stocky muscle on his lower abdomen and the seam of his pants to get it off. The metallic clink rings out and he quickly undoes the rest, plunging his hand inside to pull out his cock so that he can palm it and give it a proper stroke as you continue on. 
Instantly you freeze as your eye catches that trail of sparse hair traveling down the line of his stomach below his belly button towards his member and your mouth begins to salivate and a hard, throbbing pulse between your thighs makes your legs feel like liquid. God, you are so down bad for your superior that it is bordering on pathetic the way that even that small patch of hair has you chomping at the bit.
Simon clears his throat as he catches your sight lingering and as you meet the glint in his eyes and the smirk on his kiss-raw lips, you refocus on the task at hand. These pants still have to go and time is of the essence. You continue on, pushing the fabric down over the curve of your ass to your thighs and then your ankles in the same slow fashion, only this time more unsteady as your heartbeat pounds. They hit the ground and those damned pants are finally off; there you stand before him in nothing but your panties.   
 “Off,” he hisses as his head nods down to the last article of clothing keeping you from being filled by him.
There’s heat bubbling in your cheeks now, making them flush, and though you are almost rendered dumb just from the tension alone there’s still a little fire in you yet. “What’s the magic word?” you ask with a good bit of sass. 
A chuckle escapes his mouth as his hand strokes harder around his dick; he does love a bit of cocky pushback, but make no mistake that that will be remembered for later. His mouth yearns to devour your lips again and he doesn’t want to wait any more than he already has, so he lets it be…for now. Leaning forward in his seat he reaches out and his large hand wraps around your wrist to pull you back to him.
“Keep ‘em on all ya fuckin’ want sweetheart, don’t need ya to take ‘em off for what I wanna do,” he groans as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to move yourself back on top of him straddling over his lap. 
Fair enough. 
You can feel his warm fingers twitching with anticipation as they move in between your thighs and up against your clothed sex before his digits hook themselves into the crotch of your panties and wrench them to one side roughly. The seam digs into that soft area at your upper inner thigh as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck while a hand on your hip aligns your body at the perfect spot over top of him. 
Holding the base of his cock, Simon pushes down on your hip and you don’t fight it. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, now let’s get this in,” he praises as the tip pokes through your petals and against your entrance. A harder press on your body and his cock shoves its way inside, stretching you wide as it slips in and you whine inside your closed mouth as you struggle to take him in so quickly. 
“F-fuck,” he exclaims, his body shuddering as you come all the way down until you are once again sitting on his lap only this time with all of him thrust deep inside you. “Isn’t this better? Goddammit, this is where ya fuckin’ belong princess.”
His forehead comes to rest on your own, staggered breath being siphoned between the pair of your lips before he leans up into you and crushes your mouths back together in sloppy kisses that leave you with a yearning that situates itself deep in your core. Your mouth is like candy, sweet and addictive, and each brush of your lips against his own only makes him vibrate with a need for more. Long fingers find their way back to tangle in your hair to grip it hard as he smashes his face in until your features are molded together.
Those soft, supple lips are his to ruin and he will, by fuck he will. With each fiery embrace he lays his claim upon your mouth as if he wishes to bind your faces together so he never has to do without their euphoria. Without warning his strong, thick tongue parts your lips with ease and plunges fully inside your mouth to dance and twist with your own, filling the orifice to capacity as he shoves it down the back of your throat. 
You can barely intake air with your mouth full of his tongue, but it doesn’t matter. Suffocation feels like a dream when you are stuffed so overwhelmingly from above and below. Your pussy holds him tight, tight enough that the throbbing from the blood rushing to engorge his cock feels like he’s being stroked without any movement. Each throb has a visceral reaction and you can feel the wetness gathering by the second with every beat. 
The dizzying intensity of his kisses and the pulsating of his cock are too much and leave you clenching your thighs, squeezing him in the process as you cannot help rocking your hips, but that is dangerous territory. Simon is already teetering close to the razor’s edge.
“Don’tcha fuckin’ move,” he says with a sharp hiss of breath, wrangling your hips down square against his pelvis with a heavy grip so that you cannot shift them at all. “We don’t have time to do this proper, just need to feel ya to get through this fuckin’ day and then I’ll do it right later.”
There is desperation on his lips something vicious and it can be felt in the way his embraces become more aggressive; through the haze fogging your brain you instinctively know he is holding on by a thread. Doing as he says, you do your best to keep yourself still to allow his cock to soak in you just as he wants. 
Your arms around his neck tighten as you grip on to sanity and his hands travel back up your body to cradle your face between them. There’s nothing outside of the taste of your lips, the burn from the pressure of your mouths together, the throbbing from inside your tight pussy as it coats his cock in your nectar. It all becomes an insatiable blur as his mind numbs and he forgets everything else outside of the ecstasy of you. 
The longer he’s buried in you the more your walls swell to squeeze him tighter and he does not realize what is happening. Simon forgets that he is getting too worked up, succumbing to all that pleasure that he cannot stop his body from its more primal instincts. With each passing minute the tension from the coil knotting in his abdomen is drawing closer together, threatening to snap at any second and send him coming and coming hard. 
Eyes closed, mind gone, body so warm it feels like he is on fire, the feeling of your body driving him insane, it is all too much. That coil has tightened all it can and he finally becomes aware of it just as you accidentally rock your hips ever so slightly, but it is enough that there is nothing else he can do other than accept what is about to happen. 
“Fuck,” he groans against your parted lips as he realizes that he has miscalculated just how much he can take. “Ugh…fuck, baby.”
It’s too late, this cannot be stopped and at the last second he reacts. With a sharp, loud grunt he picks your hips up and rocks his own back to pull out of you just as he pops off. The sticky, warm emission spurts out of him with force and up onto his exposed belly, catching the bottom half of his t-shirt in its intensity. His lips lock to yours in an effort to keep the noise from those deep, guttural whimpers down as he rolls his hips, milking every last out of the aching tip that he can as you grind against it.
A couple of minutes pass before his pace finally slows and comes to a stop with nothing left to give as that swift flow of exhaustion floods his body. Those bruised lips unlatch from your own as he falls against the back of the chair to sit limp as he works to regulate his breathing. Being so worked up is something he is still getting used to, losing himself like that is not a problem he had before you came along. But no one has ever made him feel as if he’d been struck by a live wire before: all excitement whenever you are around.
Just one of the hazards of being with such a vixen.
There is still a pulsing in you that causes your body to continue to ache, but as your wandering eyes land on the watch around Simon’s wrist you see that there are only a few minutes left before you need to be in training and you still have to make it across base. Carefully, you get up off of him and make your way to your pants, redressing fast as those brown eyes cling to your every move.
“See what ya fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart? I’m a goddamn mess for ya,” he sighs as he watches you fix your soaked panties back into place before pulling your pants back on, sad to see such a gorgeous sight be concealed once more. 
“Seems like we have that in common,” you smile as you finish up and lean back into him, using his thighs as support as you give him one last, lingering kiss. You’re already gonna be late, might as well make it worth it. 
Simon wants you to stay, to have you for the rest of the afternoon, but he knows that duty calls and if he doesn’t tell you to go then it’s only going to get harder to leave. “Best get outta here ‘fore I change my mind and do somethin’ stupid to get us both in fuckin’ trouble,” he says with a nod of his head. “We’ll finish this up later, I swear.”
You lean in one more time for a short peck before turning tail and quickly making your way out of the office. Simon’s gaze lingers on your form until you exit and shut the door behind you, leaving him alone to deal with the mess he’s made of himself while his raw lips are already craving yours again. 
“She is a problem,” he chuckles to himself, “a very big fuckin’ problem.”
Tag list: @llelannie
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monstersflashlight · 5 months ago
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Commission for @lavender-constellation
A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning again! Means a whole lot <3 Hope you like it, it was super fun to write.
Request: Two Co workers in an office setting where they have to work closely together every day, one is a male!werewolf, the other is a fem!bunny girl that experiences heat. Bunnygirl is going through heat, trying to focus on the task and trying not to run to the bathroom to masturbate. Werewolf notices this, they have a convo about her being in heat, and werewolf offers to help her out. She almost says yes but says no and is afraid it would be unprofessional, he gets closer to her and rubs her clit and she relents for the chance at relief and to focus back on work. He fingers her and eats her out in her cubicle. Aaaaand more scenes of him “helping” her out until eventually they just start fucking at her apartment before work It becomes an at least twice a day thing for the duration of her heat, half the time in The cubicle half the time in his car, both trying to convince themselves it’s just so she can focus on work again,(though werewolf is a little smug about it) and the werewolf is just helping her out as a coworking favor, nothing more, but they’re both secretly catching feelings.
The key to productivity
Werewolf x fem!werebunny || heat, oral sex, fingering, knotting, semi-public sex, dub-con (kinda?)
You told your doctor you were feeling weird and the blood tests came back positive. You were going into heat, and your suppressants stopped working. He told you he could give you different ones, but you would have to ride at least two heats before that. You tried to argue that you couldn’t do it, you had to work, you had stuff to do… But there was no other way around it.
That’s how you find yourself in the middle of your stupidly boring desk job shift when the first wave hit. You think you are dealing okay with it, moving a bit more than normal, but everything is going as normally would. The world feels a bit off, but you convince yourself you can do it. Nobody has to know. You can ride the heat off and be okay after it. You can. You are a strong werebunny and you can get through that and more. Totally…
Surprisingly for anybody: you cannot.
Your cubicle coworker, a big werewolf that you might or might not have a crush on is the first one to notice. “Why are you so restless?” He asks in the middle of your day.
You turn your chair around and look at him trying to look confused as you deny it. “I- I’m not restless.” As you say it, you start feeling the blush creeping at your cheeks, your ears twitching.
“Yes, you are. And,” he sniffs the air, “aroused?” You blush harder. “Are you going into heat?” His tone is teasing and you want to kick that stupid grin off his face. “Can I help?” He grins at you, such a puppy gesture that you want to kiss his stupid snout as he shows you his canines.
“What do you mean?” You ask, confused. There’s no way he’s offering what you think he’s offering, is it? There’s no way a big handsome werewolf like he wants you, a werebunny nobody. No way.
But to your surprise, he just rationalizes it. “We need to finish this project today, and we can’t if you keep being jumpy and stressed and clearly restless. Let me help. Smelling how wet you are I bet it won’t even take that long.” The way he says it like it meant nothing should have been offending, but instead it turns you on more, your pussy twitching over nothing as you whined low. You cover your mouth instantly, embarrassed. “Come on, it’s just sex between coworkers, just some friendly... helping out.” His tone is teasing but there’s a hint of heat under it.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you just because I smell…” You lower your tone, “like arousal.” You have to spit the last part out because you are so embarrassed you don’t even want to know how red your face is.
“I offered, remember? Also, you smell fucking delicious, I could eat you whole.” His confession makes you want to squirm, your brain sending alarm bells because of butterflies taking flight inside your tummy, but you ignore them. “Is that a yes? Can I touch your wet pussy?” His smirk is even more teasing now, and your pussy twitches again, your clit demanding attention.
You blush as you ask: “Why do you need to be so… crude?” His words are turning you on but you don’t want him to know that.
He smirks bigger, all his teeth showing and making you squirm under his heated eyes. “You like it, I can smell the spike of arousal when I tell you dirty things.” He sniffs the air and makes a humming noise, like he’s savoring your smell.
“Yo- You can?” You choked out, surprised by that but also embarrassed about it.
“Yes, I can. Your smell turns sweeter when I talk about licking your clit and finger fucking your tight pussy.” You groaned at his words, his crudeness indeed doing it for you. Damn him for being so fucking hot and filthy. And damn you for finding it extra hot.
“Okay,” you whisper. “You can help me.” In the back of your brain, there’s a voice saying that is going to be a bad idea, but you ignore that too, the voice that tells you to let him fuck you senseless is a lot louder.
“Hell yeah!” His enthusiasm shocks you, but you don’t have time to say anything. “Come here.” He didn’t let you move your chair, he grabbed it and pulled, positioning it next to his across the cubicle. You groaned, the manhandling apparently doing it for you, too. Good goddess, why was everything he did so hot?
He parts your legs with a forceful pull, making you groan and cover your mouth with your hand, once again dying of embarrassment. He chuckles and goes for it. You were never so happy to have worn a skirt in your life. He doesn’t even take your panties off, he pulls them to the side and starts rubbing your clit like a pro.
You are muffling your sounds as he chuckles and keeps going, acting uninterested as you squirm under his ministrations. Not two seconds later he has a finger in your pussy as his thumb circles over your oversensitive clit. And then he adds a finger, and by the time he has three, not even a minute has passed. Your pussy is so eager to get his attention that it feels like it’s claiming him, like it doesn’t want to let him go. And you… You can’t deny how good it is, how fucking filthy it feels to be finger fucked in the middle of the work day, in your cubicle, by tour werewolf coworker who you might or might not have a crush on.
And when he leans down and whispers against your ear: “You smell so fucking sweet. Can’t wait to eat you out.” The way he just assumes that’s gonna happen it’s what does it. As soon as he says that, you are coming around his fingers. The dirtiness of the situation making you orgasm in less than two minutes, how embarrassing. When you come down from the high he looks at you and asks softly: “Do you feel better?” You nod, too shy to say something.
He gets back to work and so do you. And it does help, you feel a lot more focused for a couple hours. But after that you go back to being restless and needy, your pussy sensitive and your panties dripping wet. This time around he goes under the table and eats you out until you are panting against your hand and your chair is so wet you have to get tissues to clean it afterwards.
That continues for a couple days. It starts only in the cubicle, but soon turns into hourly toilet trips, he tails after you like an eager puppy. It shouldn’t make you so happy, but it does. He finger fucks you, sucks your clit and pinches your nipples. He learns every single erogenous zone in your body and plays you like a fine instrument.
Every. Single. Hour.
By the third day, he suggests following you home to help you out a bit more. He goes down on you for at least three hours, making humming noises as he enjoys himself. You try to return the favor, but he stops you, going down on you once again and grunting as he jerks off while at it. You can’t think of anything more erotic than him jerking himself off with his big paw as he eats you out until his face is shiny with your juices. Having him there… Like that… It’s driving you a bit insane.
It’s the day before your heat ends when you start feeling it worse than ever, the last spike of It making you feel restless and anxious. You won’t stop moving, your legs bouncing up and down non stop and making him look at you with concern in his eyes. He fingers you under your desk once again, making you come messily as his other hand rubs your nipples over your dress. But it’s not enough, not nearly enough.
He helps you out like that two more times before you start whining. It’s too much but not nearly enough, and his concerned face only grows and grows. You don’t know what to tell him, your forehead is sweaty and your pussy is so wet you can feel it sticking to your chair. It makes you feel disgusting, but you can’t do nothing but to roll your hips in an effort to relieve some pressure, without any luck.
“Let’s get out of here,” he tells you after hearing you sigh for the thousand times in ten minutes. His eyes on you only make the heat stronger, your pussy wetter.
You look at him, your eyes unfocused, brain fuzzy. “What?” You look at him scandalized. There’s no way he’s suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.
“You need relief and I have a perfectly big car outside with tinted windows where I can knot you sweet pussy and get you more… focused.” You blush hard at his choice of words, your ears twitching at the top of your head. He’s right, you know he’s right, but you’ve never been knotted, what if…
“I’ve never been knotted,” you confess. He growls at you and you blush harder, the heat in his eyes turning molten lava when he looks down at you.
“That ends today.” He pulls at your arm and you try to suppress a giggle at his insistence. “Let’s go.”
Before you can think twice about it, or more like before your heat-fuzzy head lets you understand what’s fully happening, you are naked and spread in the back of his car. He pushes your legs against your chest, folding you almost completely and going right for your pussy. You’d never know somebody who enjoyed oral as much as him, good goddess does he love to eat pussy, specifically yours… And you can’t complain about it. He’s great at it and you are cumming before he has even two fingers inside your pussy.
When he comes back for air and looks up at you from between your legs, his face is all shiny with your juices and his perfect fucking smirk is showing all his canines, making a spark of danger grow inside of you and sending your arousal even higher.
“Please…” You beg in a broken moan, that’s the only word you can get out. Your heat-induced brain is completely off line seeing him like that, seeing him like the representation of lust and deprivacy. He’s your best wet dream turned into reality, and it’s driving you insane.
He seems to see something in your face because he’s suddenly smiling tenderly at you and unbuttoning his pants. “Okay, okay, I’ve got you.” His dick is so big, you’ve seen it before when he was jerking himself as he fingered you in the cubicle, but nothing could have prepared you for the feel of it.
He starts pushing inside slowly but surely, his dick so big you want to scream, but he covers your mouth before you can do it. He starts fucking you at a slow pace, letting you accommodate his girth, but it’s not enough. It feels like torture for you.
You urge him to go faster, harder, but it’s just a muffled moan against his palm. He seems to understand you either way, chuckling and complying. He fucks into you deep and hard, hitting your G-spot with every thrust and making your eyes roll back into your head as he grunts with every thrust.
“Are you ready?” You nod fervently, licking his hand and rolling your hips against his dick buried deep inside of you.
Your scream is muffled by his hand when the knot starts expanding in you. It’s exhilarating, way more than you expected. So big, so much, so wonderful… And then he starts coming in you and you feel every little twitch and spur of his come, making you dizzy with pleasure as you come and come and come… It feels like the longest and strongest orgasm of your life.
When the knot goes down and he helps you get back into your dress, slowly caressing your body while at it, you realize two things: 1) You could never live through a heat without a knot ever again, and 2) You might be a bit in love with your werewolf coworker.
Fuck.
Reminder that you can also commission me (info here).
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