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gojonanami · 1 year

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SEEING YOU TONIGHT, IT'S A BAD IDEA RIGHT? - SATORU GOJO

summary: seeing your ex was always a bad idea, but not if it was satoru gojo.

cw: 18+ readers only, smut, f!reader, innuendos, ex-boyfriend!Satoru, praise kink, thigh riding, degradation, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), breeding kink.

a/n: gojo and bad idea right by olivia rodrigo has been living in my head rent free and here's the product :).

word count: 3,873

It was dangerous.

Look at this picture I drew Nanami. Can’t believe he didn’t want to keep it.

Gojo attaches a picture of a crudely drawn dick, and you snort at your phone.

It was a dangerous game the two of you were choosing to play.

Small. Is the response you choose. Short but funny. And just enough to elicit a response you want.

You know the real thing is much bigger.

And there it was.

The game the two of you chose to play back and forth always ended here one way or another - and usually it was him who drove it there in the first place.

Is it? I don’t remember.

Then come over and I’ll remind you.

But that didn’t mean you were completely blameless either.

You bite your lip at his text. You really shouldn’t.

You’re just horny.

That’s right.

Another message.

For you.

Fuck him. But that’s what exactly you wanted to do again.

You told yourself the last time would be the last time. After he had fucked you and left you high and dry, you told yourself you wouldn’t fuck your exes or let them fuck with you. And you didn’t — except for Gojo.

He was always the fucking exception wasn’t he?

And he was the exception to your ick to double texting - because you supposedly took too long to respond to his message.

Should I show you what you’re missing?

And it’s a picture of him fresh out of the shower, with the most shit eating grin on his face. Water ringlets traced his body with absolute reverence, his thighs teasingly visible, reminding you how you had come undone on them the last time you hooked up, and the towel of his was frustratingly too low on his waist.

What’s your new address?

Fuck.

And that’s what you were going to get done tonight.

You didn’t know what to wear. But did it matter because it was going to come off anyway. You opted for a little black dress, one that was a little too short and little too tight.

You pull up to his place - off campus - and it’s a new shiny high rise building that you stare up at with squinting eyes. Show off.

“Trust me, I’m not overcompensating for anything,” and you whirl around to see him waiting for you, “but you know that don’t you?”

“Oh do you ever shut up?” and he leans closer, tilting his sunglasses off his face, lips curled in that goddamn grin. His blue button-up and jeans made your breath catch -- god it had been so long since you've seen him out of his usual Jujutsu Tech uniform.

“I plan to, later tonight,” and you scoff, as he leads you to his building, a hand on the small of your back that sends sparks flying up your spine.

“Memory recalls you don’t shut up much during that as well,” and his hand snakes around your waist as you both walk in, nodding to the doorman as he lets you both into the elevator, “don’t you live at the school? I was surprised when you told me that have a place off-campus,”

“Well I prefer to live in a place free of teenagers sometimes,” his arm leaves you, slipping into his pockets, as he raises an eyebrow, “unless you were looking forward to fucking in our old school,”

You glare at him, “Gojo-“

“That’s not what you called me in Yaga’s classroom that one afternoon when everyone was away-" He says cheekily.

“Oh my god, Satoru, shut up,” and you crush your lips to his, and he’s grinning. His arms slip around your waist as if they never even left. But these weren’t the same lean arms that pinned you to a desk as he ate you out that one afternoon - no these were the ones of a man who has trained and seen battle time and time again. You were always surprised at how broad Satoru had gotten over the years - it shouldn’t be a surprise as he was always the “strongest” but he was lean and fit before, slender almost - but now, as he pressed you against the wall of the elevator, fingers digging into your ass, his body engulfed you.

And you were already addicted to the feeling.

If it was any more obvious, you don’t hear the ding of the elevator as you arrive at his floor, as he pulls away, “going to have to part for a second sweetheart, need to unlock the door.”

But he pulls you along by your hand, and somehow that gesture is all the more overwhelming than anything you had done in the elevator.

You watch him scan his keycard, unlocking the door, “How much does Jujutsu High pay you?”

And he smirks, “Perks of being the strongest,” but you frown at that — you know those were few and far between.

But he pulls you inside, pressing you against the door, “Now where were we?” He hums against your neck, his hands slide over your bare thighs, “I’ve missed this-“

“Could have fooled me,” you sigh as he kisses your neck, “I haven’t heard from you in a year,”

“I am a very busy man,” and he lifts you with such ease, hands wrapped around your thighs, your dress so easily riding up, “wear this just for me?”

“Just for you, and maybe on a few dates,” and his head tilts, expression flickering with jealousy for a millisecond before his god complex returns.

“And yet here you are with me,” and he’s kissing you again, his tongue parting your lips with ease, as if he’s trying to erase any evidence of another person’s touch. You moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, “so pliable, aren’t you sweetheart? Just fall to pieces under my touch,”

And his words serve to make you squirm, but as a challenge as well, as your hands tug him by his collar, “and you don’t? I recall that afternoon in the classroom, and I had to pray no one walked by so they wouldn’t hear your moans when I rode you,”

But he’s annoyingly unfazed, his breath warm against your skin, “I love a woman who takes charge, that’s why I can’t get enough of you,” and he’s closing the gap between you, kissing your lips, before tracing kisses down your jaw and neck, until his teeth graze your pulse, “should I leave a mark?”

“Gojo-“

“Oh I’m definitely leaving a mark now,” and his teeth dig into your neck, sucking and licking, drawing a moan from your throat, “does anyone else make you moan like this?”

“Why are you interested in —ah—“ and he’s tugging the straps of your dress off, “that?” The last word comes out as a whisper.

“No bra? And you’re so insistent that you weren’t flirting with me over text,” and he snaps the strap against your skin, “it’s always flirting when it’s us, sweetheart,”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you grumble and he’s carrying you now, your arms around his shoulders, “Gojo-“

And he’s pressing you to the wall outside his bedroom, and he’s taking off his sunglasses - and no matter how many times you’ve seen his eyes - no matter how many times you’ve stared into them — they always make you feel like you’re drowning — breathless and slow, like you submerged in water, unable break to the surface.

“Are you going to continue to call me that?” And he’s being rough as he teases your thighs apart, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, “because I may take you right here - let all my neighbors hear you cum on my fingers, my mouth, or my cock - dealer’s choice,” and his kiss is bruising, as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, relentless as always, always trying to prove himself, and he had nothing to prove.

And it only took his hand shaking up your thigh to press on the wet patch of your underwear to make you break.

“Satoru, fuck-“ and his grin makes you shiver.

“Good girl,” and you nearly come undone from those words alone, as he carries you to his bedroom, tossing you into his bed without much to-do.

You bounce against the springs of the mattress slightly, but he’s on you in a moment, perched over you, as he meets your lips in a desperate kiss, as if he had parted from your lips ten years ago as opposed to ten seconds.

You are pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head, but he pins your arms down before you can, “not yet, baby,”

You’re strong but not when he’s using his strength to hold you in place, “Satoru-“ and he’s using his free hand to slide your straps down lower, “that’s not fair-“

“I was born unfair,” and you snort, but it quickly turns to a groan when his hand squeezes your breast.

“So sensitive,” and he leans his head down to suck on your nipple, “no one tastes as good as you sweetheart,”

“And how many others have you tasted this year?” And he doesn’t pause, only switches to the other, as his fingers tease the other nipple.

“I could ask you the same,” and you gasp as his teeth graze your nipple, “Satoru-“ and he pauses now, “tell me,”

You grit your teeth, “No-"

“Then I’m going to suck a hickey here,” he kisses right above your nipple, “and you won’t be wearing these low cut dresses for a while,” and his teeth bare against your skin, and you jolt against him, “tell me,” he repeats.

You lay your head back, “I said I went on a few dates, I didn’t say I have slept with anyone else-ah-“And he’s sucking the mark, his teeth biting and nibbling on the skin, as he soothes it with his tongue, “you said you wouldn’t-“ you whine, and he smiles, before pressing his lips to yours.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he cups your cheek, “shyness suits you,”

And he’s tugging your dress downward, rolling it down to your stomach, and you’re pulling at his shirt, until he helps you get it off his shoulders. And your eyes rake over his chest, “Like what you see?”

You flush, “I never said you were bad to look at,” and he raises an eyebrow.

“Princess, I’m the best to look at,” and that draws a laugh from your lips, which he eagerly swallows, pressing his lips fervently to yours, looking to worship the mouth that just made that heavenly noise, “I haven’t been with anyone else,” he breathes, a centimeter from your lips, “since you,”

“Really?” And he tilts his head.

“Just for you, sweetheart,” and you don’t waste a moment.

You’re flipping him on his back, and he’s staring up at you — in shock and then in lust filled eyes, a thick haze that settles over your body, as you press your lips to his again, and he surges to meet them.

Your fingers are fumbling with his belt, and he’s trying to pull your dress down your legs. You part for a moment, standing to pull it off, before settling on his lap again, but his hands pull you to settle on his thigh instead.

He flexes his thigh, and you stifle your moan, your cunt squeezing around nothing, “come on, ride my thigh,” your wetness soaks through and he groans, “you’re certainly wet enough for it,”

“Fuck-“ and he flexes again and again, until you’re grinding against his thigh, and his cocky grin makes you want to slap him.

“Sweetheart, you’re soaking through,” and he grunts, helping you ride his thigh, the muscle and fabric rubbing against your clit, making you moan, “that’s it, c’mon cum on my thigh like a good slut,”

And that sends you over the edge, the squelch of your pussy on his leg growing only louder, as your juices run down his pant leg, “glad I could do that twice,” and he’s kissing your neck, “maybe we can make it a third,”

And you meet his lips in a lazy kiss, your lips sliding across his at first, until it grows more insistent, and you’re back fumbling with his belt, pulling it off, and undoing the button of his jeans.

“So needy,” he smirks, and he lifts his waist, to help you pull off his pants, “didn’t know you needed my dick that bad, Princess,” but the smugness leaves as you palm him through his boxers, a hiss leaving his mouth as you slip your hand inside, teasing the head with your fingers.

“What was that again? Who’s needy?” You grin — you love watching him fold for you like this, as blood rushes to his cheeks and cock, he’s nearly panting as you palm him, and it’s such a pretty cock — was there anything about him that wasn’t unfairly perfect? “Fuck, I forgot how big you were - gonna split me in half, aren’t you?” But you’re going much too slow for his taste, as your fingers tease him, smearing his pre-cum over his length, as you lick it from your fingers, “and you always taste so good,”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re toying with me,” he nearly growls, as you pull off his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin as you do.

“But you’re my favorite toy,” and your fingers return around his dick, squeezing lightly, and that’s his final straw.

You don’t even realize your back is hitting the bed until you’re already pinned under him, and he’s smiling between your thighs now, “two can play at that game sweetheart,” and he kisses your inner thigh, “and I always win,”

And he’s pulling down your panties in a moment, letting a reverent fuck leave his lips as he stares at your swollen lips, “So pretty,” and he noses at your inner thighs, before his teeth dig into your sensitive skin, and your breath stutters, “and all for me,”

“Satoru-“ and his fingers are parting your folds, making your hips jump at his touch, and he can’t have that can he? And he’s pinning your hips, as he stares at your pretty swollen folds, “stop teasing-“

“Like you stopped teasing me, Princess?” He raises an eyebrow, but he slips a finger inside, “but I’ll be nice, unlike you,” and he’s pumping his finger knuckle deep, slipping into places you could never reach yourself, “fuck, you’re practically swallowing my finger,” and a second finger is stuffed inside you, “can’t wait to feel this pussy around my cock,” and you’re shaking when he finally leans down to press a kiss to your pretty clit.

“S-satoru,” you moan, a mess, as he fucks your walls hard with his fingers, the lewd squelching ringing in your ears, as he continued to pry apart your thighs, leaning down to press his lips to your clit again.

And you whimper, before moaning, as he sucks at it, lapping at your pussy, as he continued to fuck you, “so sweet when you’re all fucked out, keep making those pretty noises, sweetheart,”

And you have no choice when his tongue slips in the stead of his fingers, fingers choosing to play and pinch your clit, a symphony of moans and whines leaving your throat, as you move to cover your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he coos, kissing your pussy as he speaks, “you’re going to make me self-conscious and we wouldn’t want that, would we baby?” And his words are not helping as he redoubles his efforts, pausing only to speak, as his hands sneak under your thighs to press you impossibly closer to his mouth, intent on devouring you, “look at me - wanna see my pretty baby’s face when she falls apart for me,”

And you look, his face smeared with your cum, lips glossy and nearly dripping with it, as he grins, before feasting on you again, makes you fall apart as he wants, “cum in my mouth,” he murmurs, “wanna fucking live in his pussy,”

And you’re coming undone, fast and hard, but he doesn’t seem to care, slurping and sucking every drop you bestow upon him, “I know where I got my sweet tooth now,” and he’s still eating you through your orgasm, as you shudder and shiver from his touch.

“Fuck, ‘Toru, I swear to god-“

“I’m right here baby, you don’t have to swear your allegiance to me,” and he’s licking his fingers clean, making a show of it, “pretty sure you did that when you screamed my name when you came,”

“You fucker,” and he’s giving you lazy kisses again, trying to bring you down from your high, just to bring you back up again, and you’re palming his erection now, “need you,”

“What was that?” And he’s so smarmy, it makes you want to slap him or kiss him or possibly both, “say it again,”

And then you squeeze his dick, making him grunt, “I said I need you,” and you’re brushing the head of his cock against your folds, again and again, making him groan, “any questions sensei?” You add mockingly, but that only serves to make him grin wider.

“So fuckin’ eager for me to split you open with my dick huh, Princess?” His pre-cum dripping onto your fucked out pussy, “can’t go a second without being filled by me? I know sweetheart, I hit all the spots you can’t reach with your fingers right? Bet all those others can’t reach them either,” and he’s kissing you, hard, as he presses his cock into you, bumping against you, but never slipping in, “then I’ll just have to spoil you tonight, won’t I?” He notches himself against your slit, his traitorous mouth leaning down to suck at your tit before he finally eases into you.

And you forgot just how big he was, as he finally sinks into you, his cock parting your folds, impatient as ever as he sinks slowly at first and than all at once, “you can still take me, and you always take me so well,” he groans, as your walls squeeze him, nearly making him cum right there, “you were made for me, made to fuck me,” he’s panting now, as you’re ready to fall apart under him.

“Then fuck me,” and he does just that - no semblance of self-control left - not that he had much to begin with. Not when it came to you.

He loves hearing you moan his name, over and over, as he begins to thrust in earnest, hips slapping against yours, making you gasp and your head roll back, “Satoru, Satoru, fuck-“

“Come on baby you can take it, look at how good you’re taking me, such a good girl,” and he grasps your chin making you look at where your bodies met, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease, a white ring of your cum around its base, “that’s it, c’mon, you make me feel so fucking good,”

And then he’s slipping out of you, as you whines but now he’s pulled you into his lap, “baby, I can’t be doing all the work, now can I?”

His thighs are sticky and wet with your fluids, as you start to ride him, your thighs meeting his with rough snaps, “So fucking gorgeous,” he groans, leaning in to suck at your tits again, “I’ll never get sick of this view, need to fuck you like this again,” and he meets you with a brutal thrust of his hips as he grasps your waist that brushes against places you only could dream to touch, and he grins as your head lolls back, “there is it, just where I left it, Princess,”

“S’close, ‘Toru, I can’t-“ you murmur, as he cups your cheek and presses a hot kiss to your lips.

“Then cum for me on my dick like a good little slut, and scream for me, make sure my neighbors know how good this cock is,” and he’s grasping your waist, fucking tou hard as you cum around his cock, and you scream his name as you do, but he fucks you through your orgasm, grunting and groaning. Your release slips down his dick as you squeeze him, “good fucking girl,” He’s close too - his thrusts becoming deeper and sloppy, “where you want me to cum?”

And your legs are wrapping around his waist, “Fill me, want it inside,” and Satoru can't help but moans your name.

He's grunting, sloppily thrusting now -- he's so close, your walls clamping down again and again, “Want me to breed you, sweetheart,” he grunts, bottoming out, “then let me fill you, fuck-“ he moans as he cums, spurting his hot, thick cum inside your walls, and you’re nearly keening against him, but he holds you steady with his fingers against your hips, nails digging crescents into your skin, “gotta make every drop count, now don’t we, love?” As he slowly pumps into you, pushing it deeper, “now what’d people say when you get pregnant by your ex? Hm? Wanna baby trap me, princess? You don’t have to do that to get me to stay,”

And he’s still inside you as he stills, cupping your chin, “I don’t huh?” You tilt your head, as he presses a kiss to your lips, “then why did you leave in the first place?”

His grin twists into a frown, sighing, as he can't meet your gaze now, “Did you really want to be with me?” And you open your mouth, “being with me is as good as placing a target on your back, and I’m not always going to here to help-“

You glare at him, “I don’t need you to protect me—"

“Except the one time you do,” he says softly, “and then what? I could deal with losing you, but I don't ever want to have to mourn you," his words are quiet, "we’ve both lost too much-" and his voice wavers, “I didn’t want you to be another thing I lost, but you were anyway,” and he gives a small chuckle, “I didn’t wanna end up alone, but without you, I’m still alone,” he gives a pitiful smile, “fitting for the strongest, huh?”

You hold his cheeks, forcing him to look at you, “You don’t have to be alone. I can’t make promises that I’ll be okay - that would be a pretty shit promise to make, we both know that, but,” you kiss his lips sweetly, the corners of his lips lifting at your taste, “I can promise I’ll do my best to live, I’ll do my best to support you, I’ll do my best to love you - if you can promise to do the same,”

And his lips crack into a grin, “Love, huh?”

“You’ve grown on me,” you tease, but he can’t let that stand. And he shifts his hips, making you moan, as he lays you down, slipping out of you, to smear his cockhead down your folds, watching you convulse around nothing as his cum slips out of you, “Satoru—fuck-“ and his fingers are scooping the liquid back inside, pushing it back in, “what are you doing?” you grumble, half annoyed, half moaning.

And he only smiles, “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we princess?” And he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, before reaching for his phone, “now let me take a picture — gotta let Nanami know someone appreciated my drawing.”

“You send that picture, and we won’t need to worry about me surviving anymore, because I’ll have killed you,” and he rolls his eyes, snapping the picture anyway.

“Don’t worry, I won’t send him this picture, that’s for my personal use,” he winks as he slips his fingers from you, licking your mixed releases from his digits, “but I’ll let him know how much you enjoyed it,” and he’s leaning over you again, “and how much you will again,”

“And every night?” You smile up at him, pulling him closer.

And he replies before you pull him into another kiss, “Only way to shut me up.”

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imshymorph · 8 months

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So, even more soft!Price thoughts cause i wasn’t joking when i said he lives rent free in my mind. Specifically, it's more bedrest!Price.

You’ve been with him long enough to know that all the grunts and eye rolls are just a facade. Long enough to know what the soft looks he gives you in between mean. To notice the way his shoulders and jaw relax the moment you walk into the room.

And you know exactly what it means when he grunts and scratches his cheek, right where his beard is overgrown, and looks at you from the corner of his eye before going back to reading. You still find it amusing to pretend you don’t, mentally counting how many times he sighs and grunts as he gives you the side eye. Eventually you relent, lowering your own book to look at him.

“Hm, beard looks overgrown and itchy.” you comment causally, playing into his game.

You see, there’s times where he’ll just come to you, arm wrapping around your waist and head resting against yours as he murmurs something along the lines of “need your help with my beard, love.” But that’s when it’s on his terms, when he feels like being pampered and needs the grounding feeling that your soft and gentle touches provide.

It’s different when he’s on bed rest. When the bruising and stitches on his torso and side make every movement achy and painful. Now he doesn’t dare ask for it. It’s dumb, really. He knows you’d be more than happy to help him and he’d do this and more if the roles were reversed. But you already do so much, help him with pretty much any other thing he has to do.

And it feels wrong, because he should be the one taking care and pampering you. Filling the tub with warm water and those lavender salts that help you relax after a busy day. He should be the one scrubbing and massaging your body and scalp. It should be him bringing you breakfast to bed as he pulls you into his side and helps you get through it. He can’t ask more of you.

So when he just grumbles “it’s starting to be annoying, yes.” while still looking at his book (but absolutely not having turned the page for the last twenty minutes at least) you just play along.

“Should do something about it, then.” you say as your hand reaches for the bookmark resting on the coffee table, marking your page and leaving your book before going towards the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare come here until I come over to help you!” you call back from the bathroom. and his eyes widen a bit as he grabs his book again, his body relaxing back against the couch cushions after he had started to scoot forward to get up in the least painful way he could manage. (How did you even know, he was being so quiet).

That’s how you end up sitting on the bathroom counter, one of his hands on your hip and the other on your thigh as he stands between your legs. You carefully shave the overgrown patches, making sure to not reach too far into the already shaped mutton chops. Even more careful to not nick his skin. Small frown between your brows as you work in full concentration, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he notices the small wrinkle it creates.

When the brittle hair is properly shaped and his face rinsed from the foamy cream, you dry it with a towel before massaging the beard oil he always uses into his skin.

A pleased and proud smile forming on your lips after giving your work one last look. “there, all trimmed and handsome.”

Your smile only widens when his hand moves from resting on your thigh to cupping your cheek pulling you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Thank you, love. Really needed that.” he says, lips brushing yours with every word before he gives you another kiss.

#cod x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #john price #captain price mw2 #captain price cod #soft!price #soft price my beloved #guess what? it has in fact become a regular topic #your honor he’s just a little guy

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 6 months

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We Come Back Every Time - Anakin Skywalker

A/N: I haven’t even watched Ahsoka, but all the clips of Anakin live rent free in my mind. Not gonna lie, this went in a completely different direction than I first imagined, but I’m not mad about it.

TS Prompt #4: Style

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader Word Count: 2.1k Synopsis: No matter how many times they say it's the last, Anakin and the reader always find each other coming back for more. (Warning: smut)

“And I should just tell you to leave, cause I know exactly where it leads, but I watch us go round and round each time.”

Midnight - the rain is pouring in Coruscant. The planet is weather controlled, and Anakin curses himself for not thinking to check it beforehand. But this far into the city, as far as he has come, he doesn't care.

His cloak is drenched by the time he arrives at your door. He knocks once. When the door opens, you are wearing pink pajamas and a scowl on your face.

"What are you doing here, Anakin?" you ask, tilting your head up to look at him, slowly, as if he is barely worth your time. The thought aggravates him in the special way that only you can.

"I know what we said last time," he says, his voice low.

"We said it was the last time," you say. Anakin laughs gently.

"And how many times have we done that?" he asks. You let out another annoyed sigh, but he sees the slight smile on your face. "Are you going to invite me in? I am dripping all over your hallway."

"You can come in but you can't stay," you say, swinging the door open. Anakin walks in, barely waiting for you to open it, because he already knows you will let him in.

"Oh, do you have other plans tonight?" he asks.

"It doesn't matter what my plans are," you say, walking into the living room after him. "We can't keep doing this, Anakin."

"Why?" he asks. He takes a step towards you, a smug smile on his face, but you turn away quickly.

"You took an oath, when you joined the Jedi. Each time we do this, you risk your place among the Order."

"Maybe I don't care about all that," he says, again moving closer to you, placing a hand at your waist. You look up at him with a disbelieving frown.

"Maybe I do," you say, and push him off gently. "I have my own future to worry about, too. My firm just took on another senator. If we got caught, it would be a scandal, and I could lose my job."

"We won't get caught. We haven't so far."

"It only takes once," you say with a sigh. He looks at you for a moment, then nods. He knows you're right. He's had this same conversation with himself each time he comes to your apartment.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Don't be sorry," you say. And after a pause, "You look like you've had a long day."

"You could say that."

"Want to talk about it?" you ask, already moving to your bar cart to make him a drink. It's another rule violation, and he sees you pause for just a moment, but continue to make the drink.

"I had another activity in mind," he says. You let out a tut of laughter.

"Please don't sit on my couch," you say, stopping him in the motion. "You're wet."

"I noticed. If you want I can take this all off," he says, returning that smirk from earlier. You roll your eyes and swallow your own drink.

"How about just the cloak?"

"Sure," he says, slipping it off gracefully. Your eyes are on him, on the clothes that cling to his body. "Y/N?" he asks, and your eyes shoot up to his, caught.

"Yes?"

"See something you like?"

"You are so full of yourself," you say, rolling your eyes again.

"You think so?"

"I know so," you bite. Anakin smiles when he realizes you've moved closer to him.

"But you like it."

"I don't."

"You do."

"I don--"

"Just come here," he says lazily. You are breathing heavier, your chest rising and falling, and Anakin knows he's staring, too.

"You think you can just play these same games and I'll fall for it every time?"

"It's worked so far," he says. He's tired of waiting and takes a step towards you. You back up instinctually, and if he had any sense that you weren't completely into this he would walk away right now. But he knows that this is part of it, part of the dance the two of you do.

"You think you know me, but you--"

"Enough about what I think," Anakin says, moving so he's now directly in front of you. "What are you thinking right now?"

"I think you're incredibly cocky," you say, and he can see the hate flash over your face because it comes out in a breath. Anakin smiles, smiles because he knows, smiles in the way that makes you weak in the knees.

"I think for good reason," he says, his voice low. He takes a step and suddenly he's in front of you, towering over you. He looks down at you as your back hits the wall, and he can see the moment you no longer care about what's right and what's wrong. With a soft whine, you tilt your head and lock your lips with his.

Anakin devours you. His lips, tongue, teeth, all fight for dominance of your mouth as you squirm against him. The moans you make are fuel to him, fuel to keep going, to keep utterly destroying you.

There is a glass in your hand, and his Jedi instincts catch it before it shatters to the ground, your hands already pawing at his drenched shirt. He sets the glass on the bar cart and yanks open his shirt with a fist.

You pull away for air and look at his slick chest. There is hot desire in your eyes, and Anakin is of no mind to keep you waiting.

"If I take this all off, can we get on the bed?" he asks in a pant.

"Yes, fine," you say, kissing whatever part of him you can reach as he strips.

In a moment, he has you lifted in the air, your legs wrapped around him as he guides you towards the bedroom. He throws you down on the bed, and looks down at you in a surveying glance.

Your hair is spread out around you, your skin flushed. The pink pajamas you wear are wrinkled and half undone already, your warm skin peaking through the buttons.

"Isn't this so much better than arguing?" he asks lowly. You rise up on your elbows and look at him, disinterested.

"Are we doing this or not?" you ask.

"Oh, absolutely, I just needed to take you in first. Now that you've given in to what you want."

"Please shut up," you say. He laughs to himself as he crawls onto the bed, settling just above you, eye to eye.

"You seem angrier than usual," he says, his voice low. "I don't usually have to work this hard to convince you." As he speaks, his hand travels down your stomach, and slips into the waist of your pants. You breathe heavily when a finger of his slips beneath your underwear.

"It's nothing," you say, your voice heavy as his fingers works against you.

"Nothing?"

"That's what I said."

"I can stop, you know?" he teases, slowing his movements, but not removing his hand from you.

"You wouldn't."

"Tell me what's got you all worked up."

"You," you gasp.

"What about me?"

"Fuck, Anakin," you whine, writhing against him, "I don't want to talk."

"But it's so cute when you do, watching you struggle to keep your breathing even."

"You are an asshole, you know that?"

"I do. Tell me what's bothering you."

"I heard," you say, nearly crying as his forefinger circles the bud at the apex of your thighs. "That you've been seeing other girls."

"Seeing other girls?" he asks, a breath of a laugh. "I didn't peg you as the jealous type."

"More like I felt sorry for them."

"That's not what you felt."

"You don't know what I feel."

"I know what you're feeling right now," he says. His lips find the sensitive skin beneath your ear and your hips buck as he places a searing kiss. "Admit it."

"Admit what?" you pant. He has picked up his rhythm, and he knows you are close.

"That you're jealous."

"I'm not."

"Tell me or I won't let you come."

"I hate you," you groan, lifting your hips to try and increase pressure.

"Tell me." His voice is a whisper against your skin. He sees the gooseflesh appear and knows he'll get his way. He always does when he has you like this.

"Fine! I was jealous! Happy?"

"Very," he says, removing his hand and in the same motion, dropping down to replace it with his mouth. You cry out as his lips close around you and within moments, you are coming around him.

He watches you come down. The heave of your breaths, the muscles finally loosening. How could you ever stop doing this? There are so few joys in the Jedi order, and absolutely none of them come as close to this. To watching you come undone.

When you sit up, the frustration in your eyes has dimmed. Anakin thinks it will take at least two more orgasms to diminish it completely.

"There aren't any other girls," he says, scooting closer to you.

"I don't really care if there are," you say, looking up at him. He takes your chin in his hand and smiles gently.

"You do care."

"It doesn't matter if I do," you say, "Because this is the last time."

"How often do we say that, and how often do we come back every time?"

"This time will be different," you say, running your hand through his soaked hair, slicking it back.

"I don't believe that for a moment."

"And why's that?" you ask, your voice softening.

"Because this is too good. And because, I know, like you do, that we'll just keep going round and round in this dance, rather than leave each other forever." Your eyes search him for a long moment.

"I don't know that."

"You do. It's our style,” he says. You groan in annoyance.

"I don't want to talk any more."

"What do you want to do?" he asks, his hand trailing down to your hip.

"I want you to fuck me."

"I'll need more specifics," he says, his voice a tease. You roll your eyes again.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you say, looking at him with that disinterested look again.

"Anything else?"

"As hard as you can."

He flips you over before you can even finish the sentence. Your pajama pants had been hiked around your knees, but he tears them off and onto the floor in a quick motion.

“This what you had in mind?” he asks as he aligns himself to your entrance. He waits until you are saying “yes” before he thrusts inside you. Your answer transforms into a moan as you take him in.

“Ready for me?” he asks. You grind against him, sighing contentedly.

“Yes.”

His thrusts into you are rough, just like you requested. His hands grip your hips, almost certainly leaving bruises. With every push into you, the only sound filling the room is the slap of your bodies and the moans you both make.

"Is this how you imagined it?" Anakin asks, his own breathing heavy.

"Yes, just like this," you pant.

“Do you think about it often?”

"I can't stop thinking about it. I can’t stop thinking about you," you admit. Anakin smiles. It is only in these moments, when he has taken you so fully, filled your body and your mind with only thoughts of him, that you finally let your true feelings show.

"Me too," he says. He again picks up his rhythm. His mechanical hand reaches around your waist and finds the sensitive flesh between your legs. He knows his touch is cold by the way your back arches.

In a few well placed strokes, you are coming around him again. Your walls tighten around him, and it is his turn to come, too. He moans your name and together you both collapse onto the bed.

He spares a glance over at you after he has calmed down some, and your eyes meet. You both let out breathless laughs.

"Why do we do this?" you ask.

"Because it feels good."

"No, why do we have to do the dance beforehand? And don't say it's our style," you deadpan.

"Maybe because if we admit that we like this, it would change completely," he says. You nod and look up at the ceiling. You are silent for a long time.

"Change it for the worse?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it'd be paradise."

"Paradise," you muse. "Sounds a little overrated." He laughs. “I guess I don’t mind our routine,” you say slowly.

“I don’t either,” he says, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and tucking you into his chest.

“But this is absolutely the last time,” you say, a devilish glint in your eyes.

“Oh absolutely,” he says, bringing your lips to his in a claiming kiss. “The very last.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x you #Star Wars #star wars imagine #star wars fanfic #ts prompts

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mimimui · 1 year

Note

okay bllk boys as your not so bf was so good BUT IF you are willing to, could you do a sequel where reader either distances themselves or something along those lines

distance (doesn't) make the heart grow fonder (blue lock)

[ first part ] wherein you distance yourself from (character).

includes: isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin

tags: one-sided, use of profanity, angst if you squint hard enough, boys annoyingly oblivious to reader's feelings, not proofread

a/n: (again) inspired by my not-so bf. i know the longing and mixed signals all too well :p this request has been collecting dust in my ask box but living rent-free in my head so .. enjoy !

you were always the one initiating conversations with isagi. not like you minded though, as long as you got to talk to him, you were happy. you can remember the first conversation you had with him as clear as day—you asked him which page the assignment was. you thought it was an absolutely brilliant plan to start talking to him regularly. it worked, obviously.

but then you noticed how dry his messages were. when you sent him three or four, he would reply back with one. isagi wasn't usually like this, no, he would return your energy all the time. it didn't bother you at first because you know he's busy with his sports, but his disinterest was getting more apparent.

you thought you were a bother to him; you thought you were annoying him, so you slowly stopped talking to him until neither of you spoke to each other at all. you stopped greeting him when you saw him, and you always saw his indifferent facial expression. uncaring, unconcerned.

it's like he forgot all about the conversations you shared. had he suddenly forgotten how close you two were? had he never cared about you? bullshit.

you waited for bachira to put his arm over your shoulders like he usually does, but he didn't today. you brushed it off, maybe he just wasn't feeling clingy yet. bachira always is touching you one way or another when you're together, but he suddenly stopped doing it.

you found it weird when he quickly retracted his hand from you when yours brushed against his. you also found it weird when he was suddenly leaning away from you in class, rather than leaning towards you. it was really weird when he was purposely standing far away from you. no matter how much you tried to get close, he would just move.

saying this only hurt you a bit was an understatement. of course it hurt you a lot, why was bachira suddenly ignoring you? you don't recall doing anything wrong or making anything awkward, so it's uncharacterisitc for him to be so... distant from you.

you decided to do the same. ignore him, distance yourself from him, and stop talking to him. you don't even know if he still considers you a friend.

chigiri slowly stopped asking to borrow your things. you didn't see anything wrong with it, but when you see him borrow things from other people, you feel a bit off about it. you thought it was stupid to feel this way—why is your heart sinking when you see him go up to someone else when he needs something?

you always gave him what he needed. you were always there when he needed something, and you were always happy to help. you loved helping him, actually. the smile he gives you when you let him borrow something is something you treasure.

it shouldn't hurt to see him borrow things from other people, it feels stupid to act this way. but you can't help it. you wouldn't be bothered by it, but the way he also stopped talking to you is what irks you the most. 'okay, you don't need to borrow my things anymore, but at least talk to me?' you think.

chigiri always gave back the things he borrowed from you safe and sound. the only thing he's ever stolen was your heart, and you're afraid he'll return it broken.

you sigh once again as you wait for nagi to go online on the game you two agreed to play together. he said he was going to go on soon, but it's been an hour, and you're bored out of your mind. you message him once more, hoping he'll reply this time. your smile drops as soon as you see his message: "can we play next time? im tired"

there was in fact no 'next time', because you haven't played a game with nagi in forever. every time you ask him to play with you, he will always reject you. he isn't the kind of person to decline a game invite, so you thought it was weird for him to suddenly be tired of playing video games.

games aren't as fun to play when you're alone. but nagi isn't joining you, so you just don't play at all. you were only ever excited to play because he was with you. when you see him online, you're quick to open the in-game chat, but then you notice he's playing with someone else.

it shouldn't bother you, really, but it's funny that you closed your game and went offline. you haven't played that game since.

you understand that reo was a busy person, but you never thought he'd get busy to the point where he no longer has time to spend with you. before, he'd always put in the effort to make time for you, no matter what. but it seems he's forgotten about your planned hangout again because he didn't show up.

the barista gave you a free drink and tried to give you words of encouragement, but you were quick to thank and dismiss them. you left the cafe that day wondering if you meant anything special to reo. he's always treated you differently than others, that's for sure. but did it ever actually mean anything?

you stare at the opened delivery app on your phone, debating on whether or not you should disconnect his online payment from your account. i mean, it's not like you mean anything to him anymore, so it's wrong to use his money.

you sighed as you reconnected your own account, ordering your usual. that was the last connection you had to reo.

you knew rin didn't prioritize relationships. hell, it wasn't on his priority list at all. but you had a glimmer of hope inside that maybe, just maybe, he thinks about you in that way. that maybe because of you, he'll consider being in a relationship.

you knew you and rin were not just friends. friends don't do the things you two do. so when you two flirt, you feel giddy. you thought that rin meant something more with his flirtatious actions, but when he calls you 'just a friend', your stomach drops.

he shares with you that he enjoys flirting for fun, and meaning nothing of it. of course he doesn't talk about you directly, but that's what it feels like. rin says it as if he's sharing a fun fact about himself, even feeling proud of it.

he notices your expression and asks why you look like that. you say it's nothing. nothing, just like what you are to him.

thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #chigiri x reader #nagi x reader #reo x reader #rin x reader

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utilitycaster · 14 days

Note

You mentioned it briefly a few months ago (but it lives rent free in my head sorry!) that the most popular ship from this campaign has almost only AU fanfics and it's really telling me something about the characters from c3, that there is just really nothing to explore about them.

So here's the thing. I do not think the characters aren't worth exploring! There's been good character work (a lot of which gets ignored, actually, because it's not what many of the people who insist that C3 is their favorite as they slowly turn into a corncob want*; see basically anyone on Twitter about Orym), it's just not central to the plot.

I stand by what I originally said and which was validated at a recent Q&A panel: the cast wasn't told that this was going to be the Moon Plot Campaign (they were just told pulpier and deadlier) and Laura wasn't told that Imogen would be as central a character as she was. So I think we have characters who could have, for the most part, had a character-driven campaign around them, but it became clear relatively early on that this was the Moon Plot campaign and that wouldn't be the focus; and because to get all of his ducks in a row for the Moon Plot Matt had to take a heavier hand with the rails and as a result the party didn't have a ton of bonding time early on because they were always taking NPC missions/being ferried around in an airship with no need for watch conversations, and it's hard to go back and fill in those interactions later, which is why they've sort of fallen out of the habit.

With respect to the ship...the thing is, I genuinely believe it could have been good. The reason I'm not a fan of imo/dna isn't because I think the characters aren't good (well, my feelings on Laudna are documented but I do think Imogen is a great character). It's because, ironically enough, every barrier between them did get removed all too quickly in the service of Cottage Endgame and as a result I think many of the people who wanted that are like "wait...that's it?" Like, the gnarlrock fight fizzled out only for the same conflict to come up briefly with Ishta (swordgate) 70 episodes later and be resolved a day later in-game. When they reunited I was like you know what would have made this good? If Laudna had remained angry in episode 65 and turned Imogen down which Laura 100% expected to happen, because they hadn't talked about this and they were awkwardly trying to deal with unresolved feelings for 30+ episodes and perhaps Laudna actually leaned into Delilah wholeheartedly during that time and realized she had feelings for Imogen after all, while Imogen was simultaneously struggling with that rejection and realizing Laudna was going into a dark place but didn't feel like she could get involved, and they both leaned more (platonically) on other characters and Swordgate was the point where Laudna said "oh no, I'm becoming too much of a problem and I do want Imogen to like me" and the soul anchor felt like a culmination of a deeply felt struggle instead of a quick fix for something that had only inconvenienced her a few times and led to a 20 hour long minor spat at best? If we actually got a fucking slowburn? It would have been great! Turns out if you always go for the instant gratification, it makes for a story without any tension! And now we're watching people who were always clamoring for skipping to the good part realizing that in doing so we skipped all the buildup that makes it the good part. There could have been something to explore. It was not explored.

*I think that there are people who for whatever reason do legitimately prefer Campaign 3 for whatever reasons and are in earnest and this isn't about them. While I don't share their tastes I support them and their feelings; we all have our preferences. This is about the people who are already visibly setting up the groundwork for a dramatic rage quit that will make copious, wildly incorrect use of the term "neoliberal" if the campaign ends with the gods still in place while still insisting this is definitely the best campaign and making absolutely brainless statements about prior campaigns not being as political even though this is the least politically inclined or aware group by a country mile. I think the lesson from the above and from here is that you really cannot have your cake and eat it too.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #this one is rebloggable but if you act like a clown in my notes i'm blocking and locking down as needed #and if you act like a clown in my inbox i'm guessing who you are openly. i've accurately done it before i'll do it again.

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button-cat · 1 month

Text

psst,,,do you like the game pressure from roblox,,,

u don't? oki *shows u my pressure oc anyways*

meet Hazal !! :D I had her living in my head rent free for days now lol- for anyone wondering- uh they're basically a combination of many different sea animals,,, which im just gonna list down here cause why not-

Dumbo Octopus, Sea angel, Anglerfish, Vampire squid, Nudibranch, Fangtooth, Narwhal and Mimic octopus- thE REASON I ADDED SO MANY BECAUSE I JUST WANTED TO CHALLENGE MYSELF ON HER DESIGN- i tried my best to add at least one feature of each sea animal i listed down here on their design- :3

also btw- uh Hazal is a minor !! pls don't make any weird comments about them- D: I'm still deciding on what age they'll be but i'll be letting u know that she is going to be younger than 13- :b

still mostly trying to figure out how exactly her lore is gonna be like so there may be changes here and there- :b i'll let u know tho that she's basically an accidental creation by Urbanshade-

for now have this silly video i made of Sebastian and Hazal :3

(i haven't made something like this for a long time now dang-)

btw Hazal isn't actually this small like shown in the video- just made her that way here because i thought it was more silly :3

#pressure #pressure roblox #roblox pressure #art #pressure oc #roblox #roblox art #fanart #sebastian solace #pressure sebastian #pressure art #pressure fanart #sebastian pressure #i foind fishe #i foind fishe :333

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haleswallows · 4 months

Text

I will not ask where you came from (Deleted Scene)

A deleted scene for "I will not ask where you came from", my fic for Dead on May-n week. Inspired by @roanawayspoons in the HH server, where they linked this and said it's perfect for puppy!Jason.

CW: NSFW, anal sex, fingering, light pet play

Jason is excited to reveal his new helmet. He's spent a lot of time designing it, ready for a refreshing new look. It's just... a coincidence. The dog-like features. Siren lives rent free in his mind, ok? It wasn't on purpose. Jason is not responsible for his subconscious.

Siren raises an eyebrow, bright red lips pressed to disguise their smirk when Jason first shows them. Lounged on his couch, their dressing gown falls open slightly to reveal toned legs. "Oh, puppy," they demure. "You spoil me. You're so pretty with your new helmet." He can't help but preen under their praise. When they command him to his knees, he goes without single hesitation and kneels at their side. The finger under his chin has his eyes fluttering closed, and Jason obligingly tilts his head back.

“Is this way your way of making sure everyone knows?” The finger traces a line along the seam where flesh meets metal, the slightest scratch of a long nail. “You like being my puppy this much?”

Jason knows the rules. He's a good boy. “Yes.” The new voice modulator grinds the word into a rough growl. Siren does smirk then, grazing a finger over the molded fangs.

“This is very nice, perfect for my puppy.” They playfully tap the subtle snout. “Well, come on then, strip. Show me the helmet without all these distractions.”

Siren likes to tease but not be teased. He does make a show of stripping, muscles flexing and stretching. But it always goes quickly. They reel him in by the buckle while he shucks off the vest, then gloves. “Let me help. You have so many layers.”

While his arms are tangled in this shirt, Siren undoes the belt, then button, then zipper. Without pushing the pants down, Siren slides their hand between compression shorts and the outer armored layer.

“No cup? Oh puppy, did you prepare for me?” They press a finger against the rapidly hardening underside of his cock, balls drawing up with his gasp. “Am I going to find another treat?”

Jason struggles to find words. Even after months and months of this game, Siren's rules, Jason's still so responsive, left gasping.

“Puppy?” Siren gently prompts, beginning to withdraw.

It takes a few gulps of air to get there. Jason chokes out “One more surprise.”

His efforts earn a reward. Siren wraps a hand around his dick through the soft fabric. They squeeze slightly on an upstroke, teasing the head. “Good boy. You're so good for me, and just me. Wanna show me?”

The praise makes Jason flush, reddening from chest and up his neck. His face feels warm in the helmet. “Yes,” he repeats.

Sadly it means Siren releases his cock, allowing him to toe out of the steel toed boots, unbuckle hostlers, and shove the pants down. Jason’s embarrassed for a second before the compression shorts join the mess of clothes on the floor. All it takes is a half lidded look from Siren, their eyes hungrily tracing from chest to toe, flicking back up to the helmet.

They swirl a finger lazily. Jason obeys, pausing just a moment when his back is turned. “Oh,” Siren breathes out. “Come here.”

He kneels again. Siren cups the cheek of the helmet in their hand and encourages him to prop his arms onto the couch cushion. Instinctually, Jason leans into it, missing the feel of their palm a little bit.

Siren finally sits up from their relaxed lounge, legs bracketing him. Jason's practically in their lap and fully hard now. Their other hand skates up his arm, drawing patterns into his bicep with a nail. He flexes his arms without thinking, Siren giggling.

“That looks new. Were you excited to buy it? Couldn't wait to show me?” Siren pulls him to sit up straighter, pinches a nipple. With a gasp, Jason arches his back, sits as pretty as he can.

“Yes.” Jason was excited. Is excited, the press of the plug a little bigger than his usual preferred toy. It had taken a little effort to get it in, Jason had nearly come while fingering himself open, thoughts of Siren forefront.

“So cute,” they coo, pressing a kiss to the temple of the helmet. “It matches your helmet. You look so good in red, puppy. Now the question is do you want the toy, or me?”

Jason shorts out for a moment. He trembles as Siren distracts him with wandering hands. As he opens his mouth, Siren pressed a kiss to his neck, scrapes teeth over the skin. Jason gasps, words flying from his head. Groans when Siren bites harder.

“Words, pretty boy.” A grin pressed into his neck, a hand reaching down his back, a barely there brush of a finger at the base of his tailbone.

He pants. Half crazy from the plug and the constant stimulation. Jason needs to be touched. “You.” His voice is strangled.

“Well, get up here. I'm not getting on the floor.”

Jason slowly crawls up, Siren directing him to lean over the armrest. He feels exposed, hemlet pressed into the fabric, arms curled under his chest. It puts him ass up, cock heavy and hanging between his thighs.

“Just look at you. Beautiful.” Siren admires, pressing a kiss to the small of his back. Jason squirms, pleased with himself and relishing the praise. Then nearly jumps out his skin when Siren suddenly grabs his balls.

He can barely concentrate on what Siren says, focused entirely on the hand slowly kneading the sack. “I'm going to fuck you, your hands stay right there. No touching yourself, I want you to come on just my dick, Jason. Do you understand? Will you be good?”

“Yes.” He can be good. He can be so good. Something breaks in his brain a little bit, overwhelmed with the promise of being fucked, the promise of more than teasing touches. “Yes, I understand. Please, I'll be good, I'll be good. Please, Siren.”

Siren drapes over his back. A kiss to the nape of his neck gentle and soothing. “Please, what?” A finger presses on the plug, pushing the flare against the stretched rim. He pants.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please. Siren, I want your cock. Want to come for you, want to be a good boy.” The begging erupts from him, Jason wrapped up in the press of Siren's silken dressing gown all along his back, the way their legs frame his.

“Relax for me,” Siren commands, biting the juncture between neck and shoulder. Jason melts into the sharpness of the feeling, breaking through his general fog of need and arousal.

The plug slides out. For a moment, Jason is stretched too wide, too much. Then suddenly he's empty, bereft, clenching on nothing. “Oh, honey.”

A single finger slips easily in, hole still wet with the smear of lube from fingering himself. Jason's hands twitch. He clenches them, and shoves them under his chin.

A second finger joins the first. Siren hums, slowly scissoring them. They're always so gentle with Jason, so careful as they open him up. “We need a little more lube, sweetheart.”

“Ah,” Jason twitches. It's a few heartbeats before his brain produces a coherent thought. “Pants pocket.”

They laugh. “Of course. My clever puppy, always thinking ahead.” But it means they remove their fingers to lean for the pants, rooting around in the pockets. When Jason shivers at the loss, Siren runs a hand up his flank, presses a thumb to his hole. “Patience. Don't wanna hurt you, baby boy. You're being so good, I'm going to take care of you. You know what you get when you're good?”

Jason nods into the armrest, eyes squeezed shut. Siren removes their hand. They lightly swat his ass. “Words, puppy.”

“I get rewards.” He twists his head, getting Siren into his peripheral. Their smile is sweet, eyes crinkling with it.

The reward is Siren pushing two lube slicked fingers into his ass. Jason groans long and shamelessly. After a few moments, Siren easily adds a third finger.

They mouth lines of kisses across the broad span of his shoulders. Fingers pump slowly in and out of his hole, a maddening pace only barely enough to keep him hard. The pads of Siren's fingers just graze his prostate every few strokes.

Jason is melting. He's burning and panting and fighting every instinct to grip his cock. If he doesn't get more, he's going to scream. Or cry. A chant starts pouring out of him. “Siren, please. I'm ready, I want you, more, please. I… it feels so good, please, please can I…?”

Siren surges forward, pressing their weight all along his back. Their dick slots behind his balls. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you? You asked so nicely, it’d be mean of me to make you wait more.”

They gently remove their fingers. There's the sound of the lube opening again and Jason takes the opportunity to catch his breath. He uncurls his arms, bracing hands on the armrest.

Then groans again at the stretch of Siren's dick pushing into him. It's slow but delicious. in all the right ways. Jason sets his hips against the push, allowing Siren to rest against him. Siren breathes out a long satisfied sigh against the top of his spine when they finally fully seat inside him. A heartbeat of stillness, Siren caresses his sides in an upward sweep. They pause to grope his pecs before slotting their hands together.

“You have no clue how good you feel, puppy.” Siren presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. With a long slow withdrawal, Jason squeezes their hands. He knows what’s next. He’s been a good boy. They pull out until the ridge of their cock head pulls at the rim. The thrust is hard, driving Jason’s breath out.

Siren’s pace is cruel. Each thrust hard, but just shy of fast enough. Jason writhes under it. He hangs his head, lifts it again, clenches his hands and thighs in turn, arching his back. All the while, his cock and balls ache. Jason needs more, certain a single touch would put him over the edge but Siren keeps a hold of his hands. The sound of their fucking is obscene, and if Jason had even an of sanity to spare, he’d be a ashamed of the continual whine and gasps and mewls he’s making.

It’s obvious when Siren starts to get close. They release Jason’s hands to pull his hips closer, encouraging him to sit up. Impossibly it drives their cock deeper. Siren noses against his neck. “Beautiful and you don’t even realize, god you feel so good. You don’t know what you do to me, puppy. It’s like you were made for me. Can you come without me touching you today?” Every word brings heat to Jason’s chest, he shudders.

And they wrap a hand around the base of his neck, the barest hint of pressure against his throat. Jason comes, losing his voice as pleasure rips through him. Siren keeps up the brutal pace, fucking him through his orgasm.

“Good boy. You’re so good for me, you’re perfect. Stay just like that, puppy.” Strong arms keep him upright, the thrust not stuttering. Jason gets lost in it – the haze of endorphins and praise. Beyond all reason, Jason gets hard again. “Look at you. Filthy, you like it that much? Oh puppy, are you going to come again for me? Can you?”

Siren presses him into the couch, bending him forward until the helmet meets cushion. Jason’s hips tilt and then he’s seeing stars with each thrust. He scrabbles against the fabric, trying to gain purchase to push back. “Right there, huh. You’ve been marvelous. I’m so close, puppy.”

They pant against his shoulder. “Come. Come, Jason.” The command is paired with a hand on his cock, stroking in time with the thrusts. “You can do it, puppy. Beautiful boy.”

It isn’t Jason’s first dry orgasm. It definitely won’t be his last. Still it shocks Jason, amazed by the way it rocks through him and makes his toes curl. He clenches and finally Siren’s hips stutter. Warmth of a different sort fills him, and Jason swears his dick twitches as if inspired to try for a third.

Time gets a little fizzy for Jason as he focuses on catching his breath, only gasping once Siren pulls out. Sensation slowly returns to his numb limbs. “Careful, honey bee. There you go,” Siren coos gently, guiding Jason to lay on his side. “There’s a wet spot there. We made a mess, huh. You stay put.”

Vaguely, he hears the padding of feet. He concentrates on wiggling his fingers and then toes. “You want this off? Oh babe, you must be boiling in there.” Jason obligingly rolls his head so Siren can access the release on the back. The rush of cool air is a relief, he barely noticed how warm he was.

Jason hums, cracking an eye open when Siren begins combing fingers through his sweaty hair. “You poor thing, you’re drenched. Wanna get showered?” Absolutely not. The thought of getting up just then is abhorrent, so Jason shakes his head. “No words right now? That’s ok, puppy. Let me get you a little cleaned up and a towel down. Will you have some water for me?”

The washcloth is warm on his skin. When Siren finishes, they press a kiss to his hip bone. He sits up just long enough to drain most of a glass of water. Flopping onto his back, Jason sprawls across the couch.

“Scooch, how am I supposed to cuddle you if there’s no room?” Jason squints at them, but doesn't move. “It's like you think this will stop me.”

They clamber onto him, slotting themselves between his legs to fold arms over his chest. “It's like you think this wasn't my plan,” Jason comments. As Siren settles, he loops his arms around their back.

There's blissful silence for about three seconds. Siren wiggles. “Hey, you ever thought about soaking? Cock warming?”

Jason groans, and not in pleasure. No, he hasn't. But now he is… and, huh. That's new. He considers it, finds he might like that.

“You'd be so cute stuffed with my cock for hours. We could get a mirror for the bedroom, make it so you can see. Your asshole is amazing. You'd be a great cock warmer.”

When Jason doesn't answer, Siren pauses. “We don't have to. You know my rules, no means –.”

“No, I know. I'm not saying no. Just… give me a few days?” Siren smothers a smile.

“Of course. We can make a whole thing of it. Let me spoil you. Buy us dinner, get some sweet treats, something nice for a bath after. Yeah? Sound good?” They beam at him, and Jason is hopeless.

“You've ruined me.” It makes them laugh, bright and happy. “How are you always like this? You have too much energy.”

They hum, kiss his pec. “Can't help it. Hey, you patrolling tonight?”

Maybe if he could feel his legs. “Nah, I'll do gear and weapons maintenance.”

“Good, you deserve the rest. Want me to grab something to eat when I'm done?” They idly trace a scar on his bicep. “I can even get you some of those disgusting chili dogs.”

“Disgusting, they say. As if you didn't text me last week to beg for four of them.”

They flap hands vaguely in his face, shooing away the teasing remark. “Wait! If I do a seance for Nana Franny again, do you think she’ll make me more birria?”

Jason catches their hands, smoothes a thumb over the bare nails. “Nah, she called yesterday. Her oven is acting up. I’ll go fix it and then we’ll be birria rich.” Siren gasps.

“It’s fate! Hey, wanna pick a couple colors for my nails? You have a good eye. Don’t just pick reds though, puppy.” A phone, lodged somewhere in the couch, starts ringing. Siren surges up for a kiss, digging it from between the armrest and cushion at the same time. “And now I have to start getting ready.”

When Jason bench presses by their hips, Siren makes an appreciative ‘ooh’. Mostly Jason does it to avoid their flailing limbs, and inevitable elbow to the solar plexus he always gets when Siren scrambles off his chest.

“You stay put, puppy. Rest. Drink lots of water.” They pat his chest, then trot down the hall. “Wait, have you ever thought about shibari?”

“Stop it!”

#dead on main #dc x dp fic #SO MUCH SMUT #my writing #DNI INRY #DNI minors #please i swear to fuck #not beta read

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tcustodisart · 4 months

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What are some cute moments that occur throughout the different acts that aren’t necessarily in the game but live in your head rent free?

Oh, this one is going to be a long answer, because there's a lot of squatters in my head and there's a lot to be unleashed. Let's start with this doodle with the boys playing lanceboard at camp and continue under the cut. Lots of cringe and brainrot incoming, so brace yourself.

Act 1:

Connie is constantly bickering with Astarion over him stealing his journal. Gale suggest to cast arcane lock on it, but Connie knows it won't stop that gremlin from reading it so why bother.

This sad pile of rugs is where I imagine Connie sleeps in Act 1. Additional Astarion line: "Damn darling, you live like this?"

During the first romance scene Connie tells Shart about his family, about how he and his brother know the city inside and out, about his parents and the tavern they run, about the trap incident. It's the most he talked to someone who wasn't his family or his crow in years. He wishes that night would never end.

Connie sends letters to his family via Faust, he stops after entering Underdark.

Act 2:

I mentioned it before that Connie is not taking the Shadow Curse very well. He misses the sun, misses the grass, he's unable to contact his family, Shart has distanced herself from him. Karlach notices it and tries to cheer him up. They end up having long talks almost every night. That's the moment their friendship evolves from just friends to besties.

When Connie finds the second warding bond ring, he wishes he could give the other one to Shadowheart, but finds the moment inappropriate. He ends up giving her the ring at the beginning of Act 3.

Act 3:

I have a lot of stuff for this act.

This is inspired by one of Jaheira's lines: "'The Cub and the Crow'- sounds like a cautionary tale. As it probably should." Connie draws her a mock up cover for a kids book. Jaheira sticks it to the traveling chest (I mostly store food there, so to me traveling chest = fridge).

Connie goes through a serious breakdown at the start of this act (after a companion is abducted), he ends up crying and saying that for the first time he doesn't believe they're going to make it, that he'll never hug his mom, never hear his brother sing again, won't be able to tell his step dad that he saw Darkmaw the Wicked. He's being comforted first by Jaheira and then by the rest of his party.

His favorite armor gets damaged one time, he's very upset about it. But the next morning he finds it magically repaired (Astarion fixed it, from the start of Act 3 they become besties).

This wip that I'm very slowly working on happens during act 3. Connie makes some flower crowns and talks about how his mom taught him to do that. I'm not going to say more, because I really want to finish that comic.

Connie has a deal with Popper that he'll pay him double for every night orchid he finds (I actually did that in game, I bantered him more money for the flower than he asked for, I love that little guy so much).

This one is more funny than cute but when Connecticut Tav was younger and still lived in Baldur's Gate he used to visit Sharess's Caress pretty regularly because it was the best way to practice drawing people. He really enjoyed talking with the workers there, he eventually convinced them that maybe creating an union isn't such a bad idea. He ended up being banned from entering the brothel because of that. So when the party approaches it to meet Voss, he's very nervous that the owner will remember him (she does). There's a dialogue in my head but it would work better with some visuals, so maybe one time I'm going to draw it.

In my head, the cottage they end up living in is Connie's old hunting hut. So after the conversation with Shadowheart about her plans for after defeating the brain, he suggest that it would be the perfect place to go. He then draws the house to show her how it looks like, tells her that it's surrounded by a forest, there's a lake nearby, a small stable that can be turned into a barn if needed, and that he's not sure about the quality of the soil, but he did grow some herbs there, so maybe it's going to be good enough to grow flowers.

At the end of the game Connie decides to stay in Baldur's Gate for a while to help his family fix their tavern (which was heavily damaged). He tells Shart to go the house I mentioned before, because he wants her to start her new life as soon as possible + because it would be better for her parents. He stealthily puts his journal in her stuff with a note attached to it saying that he finished it this morning and she can read it if she wants to. He also gives her Faust so she can write him letters whenever she wants to. After 2 tendays he arrives at the cottage with some gifts (night orchid bulbs and a pamphlet about how to take care of them, there was supposed to be another gift, but he wasn't able to find it just yet, but that's for another story).

Epilogue party (because I'm that insane):

It's been sitting in my wips for more than two months, so I don't know if I'll be able to finish it. But during the party Connie and Shadowheart take 10 minute brake to visit the place from the first romance scene. They have a very similar conversation like before, but their roles are reversed now - It's Connie asking questions about Shart's current life. "Tell me something about yourself, but no tadpoles, weird artifacts, petty goddesses. Something about you."

#ask me anything #bg3 #connecticut tav #oh oof this took some time #but know this annon I am giving you a kiss on the cheek and I'm paying for our imaginary kids' collage for asking this question

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mixtape-racha · 10 months

Note

aria aria aria

more tiger hybrid hyuka >///<

nsfw or sfw idc just tiger hyuka

LIAAAAA !!! i have so many thoughts dw babe tiger!hyuka lives rent free in my head rn (the thoughts in italics are recycled from the ask i sent lia here)

tiger!hyuka who preys on you - but not in the way you're thinking ok maybe kind of in the way you're thinking but i mean like ??? his eyes are always on you and like you can feel someone staring at you but you can't see him because he hides himself so well in his surroundings

tiger!hyuka who pounces on you when you're sat still for too long, or laid in bed chilling, but does the little butt wiggle that felines do before pouncing :(

tiger!hyuka who - like all tigers - prefers solidarity :( but that changes so fast when he meets you !! now he's inseparable from you, and can't understand why he enjoyed being alone so much now

tiger!hyuka who bounces into your room, showing off a bug he caught like prey - hes so proud that he caught it so you better give him praise !!

tiger!hyuka who sometimes forgets he can speak and often communicates through little vocalisations - purring or humming, even occasionally chuffing when he's particularly happy

tiger!hyka who enjoys going in walks to find fields with long, thick, wavy grass to play around in !! he enjoys sneaking up on you and scaring you playfully, and the wild vegetation only helps with that

tiger!hyuka who's an incredible swimmer, and can't help his instinct of jumping into any lake or river he can find - he loves playing in the water, especially after a day in the fields, so be prepared to have to carry spare clothes with you everywhere

tiger!hyuka who also uses signals a lot - scenting all your clothes and belongings so other hybrids know who you belong to >:( and through pawing/scratching !! so expect a lot of torn up cushions if u don't get baby hyuka a scratch post :(

tiger!hyuka who is a complete night owl - tigers usually hunt at night, and so his instincts just keep him up for so long !! he's usually pass the time by gaming, but sometimes he'll ask you to watch nature documentaries with him

tiger's mating patterns usually occur during november - april, so during these months be fully prepared for tiger!hyuka's breeding kink to go wild !! tiger's also usually have 2-4 cubs so be prepared for the chance of twins or triplets

tiger!hyuka who gets more aggressive/protective in an environment with more big cat!hybrids - specifically other tigers or lions

tiger!hyuka who spends a loooong time grooming himself each day !! his fur is his pride and joy, and he needs to keep it in tip top condition

tiger!hyuka who gets along most with bears, leopards and wolves because of his instincts, although these animals are more active in the day so there isn't much collaboration

tiger!hyuka who sleeps most of the day because of his nocturnal instincts, and you can usually find him dozing on the couch - especially if the sun is shining in on him

tiger!hyuka who left home young, because tiger's leave their parents' territory at a young age - and moved far away so the males in his family wouldn't think he was challenging them for their territory

(a/n: scheduled post!)

-> don’t forget to reblog or comment if you like my works ♡ please refrain from modifying, translating, or copying my work. - © mixtape-racha

tags ✮⋆˙ : @pretty-racha @demetrisscarf @bangtancultsposts @watariisbestboy @zuzuhasablog @kpopmenace143 @jeniihss

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loremaster · 1 year

Text

hi rain code fandom. i finally finished cleaning up some months-old doodles about an au that has been living in my head rent free this whole time. i call it “boba au” off this image i made during the game (and also took months to finish). the concept is that they all get off the train and get boba, and then everyone joins the nocturnal detective agency and yuma gets TWO assist characters per case. many things change.

^ above: chapters 1-2

v below: minor spoilers for chapter 3, BIG spoilers for chapter 4

and now you understand why i have been going feral with this au sitting in my head for so long. yes there is more where this came from. this is just the beginning of boba au. be afraid

(also yes that is zilch alexander the real zilch alexander, with the world’s most expensive hat)

#rain code #rain code spoilers #mda:rc #yuma kokohead #vivia twilight #pucci lavmin #halara nightmare #zilch alexander #desuhiko thunderbolt #melami goldmine #kurumi wendy #fubuki clockford #aphex logan #yakou furio #boba au #trying to get better at posting art even if i don’t like it #HERE GOES #who wants to see the relationship chart raise ur hand #abcd art

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glitchedmagic · 1 year

Text

@theminecraftbee ‘s ficlets about Decked Out eating Tango have been living in my head rent free so here’s a little post-do thing of my own.

“The server resets tonight.”

It’s been just over two months since Decked Out finished. Just over two months since anyone has seen or heard from Tango.

Zed knows what happened. Not the details. And he certainly couldn’t explain it to anyone else. But he knows.

And the gnawing feeling of guilt has kept him coming back to the dungeon. Every day.

Decked Out is asleep. Zed can walk through the citadel without a desperate need to throw himself to the ravengers. He can even wander below, into the redstone, without being electrocuted to death. Maybe it’s dead, but Zed doubts it. He knows it’s just sleeping. Eventually, it will wake up. It will be hungry and will lure whoever enters this world into its depths.

Maybe that’s when Tango will wake up too.

Zed won’t be here to see it.

“Who knows when you’ll be able to eat again?”

His voice is quiet but he knows the whole dungeon can hear him. He plays with the clasp on his gas mask. Tango’s storage room, where he lays on the dusty floor, has enough oxygen flowing through it still to allow him to breathe without the mask, though he’s already getting a bit of a headache. He’ll put the mask back on soon. Eventually.

“One last snack?”

He’s offered the dungeon himself hundreds of times these past few months. As a player, when it was live, hoping to spark a bit of his friend’s life back into him. Then after. Hoping for something. For a glimpse of flickering blue flame and wide eyes that had long since given up pretending to see.

There’s quiet.

There’s so much guilt in the quiet.

Don’t worry, Zed. Just a few months. Not too big of a project.

All good here. With level one done, the rest will go a lot quicker.

Yeah, level three got away from me a bit. Level four will be smaller, don’t worry.

Audio needed to be reworked, you know how it is. Soon.

Just tired, lost track of time last night.

Not too much longer now.

Don’t worry, I’ll be back to normal when the game’s done. Promise.

Did Tango know he was lying?

Zed is well aware that what he’s doing isn’t good for him. It’s ironic, how Tango pulled away from everyone, to eventually disappear in this cave. And now Zed’s doing the same thing.

It was always Tango pulling Zed out. Into the sun for a stupid game or a ridiculous project. So it makes sense that without him, Zed can’t bring himself to leave the hole.

“I could break more redstone.” Zed offers the dungeon. “Really get you mad.”

He’d done that. About two weeks after Decked Out went dormant. He hadn’t gotten a reaction at the time. But the next day, everything was repaired.

That had spurred Zed into doing a stakeout. Break some stuff, sit and wait until the dungeon brought Tango out to fix it.

Zed had died down in the redstone, waiting. It hadn’t been a pleasant death.

That’s when Impulse had stepped in, staging his own intervention. But all it had done is make Zed feel more guilty.

An intervention for the guy who failed to do an intervention when Tango needed it most.

See? Ironic.

His head is starting to pound. He puts his mask back on.

“I want my friend back, you stupid castle,” He says through the mask. The dungeon understands him anyways.

He won’t be getting Tango back. He’s known that for much longer than he can admit.

Time passes. His phone dings a few times. It’s just the others. Making preparations. The server resets in just a few hours.

“Was it worth it?” Zed asks. “Not you, dumb dungeon. I’m asking Tango. Was it worth it? Did you make this choice? Did you know the consequences?”

Silence.

“Did you ever consider saying goodbye?”

The thing is? Tango was saying goodbye. In the only way he could. It was in the heartfelt artifacts crafted for each hermit. It was in his own voice, echoing words throughout the dungeon long after his own voice left him. It was in every ounce of the game.

None of them saw it until it was too late.

Zed stands. He has to be at spawn soon. He has stuff to pack. He has his own hole in the ground to say goodbye to.

He takes the long way out. Up into the main room of the citadel.

There’s a small part of him that hopes to see a glint of Tango. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right? A little wisp of blue fire. A soft voice. A gust of wind blowing a loose piece of paper across the floor. Something he can look at and be comforted by.

Nothing happens.

Zed knows that Tango’s gone.

He stands at the door. It’s open just a crack, just like he left it.

The night is clear.

“Goodbye, Tango.”

#second: its a horror story about losing yourself and being forced to accept it #me: a tragedy about not being able to say goodbye got it #also like????? in a world where death is meaningless??? THIS? THAT TYPE OF GRIEF??? HOW WOULD YOU DEAL #my 'tango is eaten by his base' hcs are a bit different from theirs but idc the vibe is very much the same #for a bit of horror that i couldn't squeeze in #i imagine that tango (as in like his physical body) is asleep somewhere in the redstone #its just impossible for anyone to find #yes the dungeon did that on purpose so none of those other stupid hermits can try and 'save him'#also idk how it would work in-world but everyone who will be playing decked out on the world download?#food for the dungeon #glitch talks #hermitcraft #tangotek #hermitfic

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helaelaemond · 1 year

Note

REQUEST TIME Because of your beautiful, beautiful mind, this idea came up after reading your amazing Billy fic (Only worth living if somebody loving you).

How about a Billy who, as you showed, is turned on by taking care of his SO, but turned on so much that he cannot help but cum from this?

I know it'll be great, as the idea mostly came from you and the EYE CONTACT will break me.

thank you for this wonderful prompt, and for trusting me with it! In @myfandomprompts I believe!!!!!!!

Title: This Is My Idea of Fun - part of the It’s All For You series but can be read as standalone

Pairing: Billy Washington x female reader

Summary: You've come back from a week long holiday with your friends, and your boyfriend Billy has missed you. He's missed taking care of you, touching you and tasting you, giving you everything you need. And in giving you everything you need, he finds his own satisfaction.

Cunnilingus, breast worship, nipple orgasm (female), hands-free orgasm (male), mild praise kink, pet names, established relationship, fluffy smut.

Rating: E

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: references to Lana Del Rey (this whole series is based on Video Games - the lyrics and the vibes. JUMPSCARE I GUESS)

Tag list: @sylasthegrim / @myfandomprompts/ @arcielee / @babyblue711 / i forget who else might want Billy tags <3

"Billy!"

He grins as he waits for you at Stansted arrivals with open arms, and you fly to him. "Hey!"

Catching you in his embrace, he peppers your face with kisses, not caring that you're feeling gross from your flight, not caring that you smell of the stale aeroplane air, not caring, not caring, not caring. Behind you, your friends meet their partners, too, although none are as welcomed so lovingly as you (not that it's a competition - but it still feels good).

"I missed you!"

His heart leaps when you say that, and he runs his fingers over your hair. "Hmm. I missed you too. Didn't know what to do with myself all week. God, you look good. Look at your tan!" The Mallorca sun has warmed your skin and left you glowing, and he kisses your forehead. "You wore sun cream, right?"

"Of course!" you laugh, batting away his worries. "Factor fifty, three times a day."

"Hmm. I'm not sure it counts if you're adding tanning oil on top of it."

"Shut up!"

He grins and grabs the handle of your suitcase, and although you protest, he takes the rucksack from your back, too. When you turn towards the train station within the airport, he grabs your hand. "Where you going?"

"Aren't we-?" you gesture to where your friends are meandering to head back to central London.

"Absolutely not. No public transport for my girl."

"For God's sake!" you laugh again. "It's only a half hour train! You didn't have to drive. Couldn't wait to get me alone, huh?"

Billy ducks his head but gives you a glance. "You joke, but..."

You shove him playfully. Leaving him for a moment, you hug your friends goodbye and promise to see them soon, and then you go back to him. Arm in arm, you walk out of the airport. It's only been a week away from him. But you're giddy being back with him.

After some convincing from your side, you'd agreed that you'd text every day, but not go into detail about what you're up to - that way, when you got home, you could tell him everything. At first, it made him nervous, but now that you're animatedly telling him everything as he drives down the M11, he's glad.

It's magic, seeing you like this. It's a beauty to listen to you talk about anything, let alone something that makes you so happy. He listens almost in a trance, and as he sits at a comfortable seventy-five in the outside lane, he rests his hand on your thigh. God, it's good to have you back.

By the time you've returned to the flat you rent together, you've told him all about your week-long holiday. Inside, it's clean and tidy, and on the living room windowsill is a fresh bouquet of lilac and lavender.

"Oh, Billy."

He smiles and kisses your temple. "Welcome home."

"Thank you."

You hug him for a long moment, just happy to be in his arms. But then his kisses move to your neck, and you squirm away. "No, stop. I need a shower. I feel gross."

Billy's nose scrunches as he beams at you. "Alright. Want me to unpack for you in the meantime?"

You think about telling him no, that he doesn't have to worry, but he strokes your cheek, and you're reminded how much he likes to take care of you, in his own way. "Could you?"

He nods.

"Thank you."

You take your time in the shower. You scrub every inch of yourself clean in an attempt to scourge travel from your skin and hair. By the time you've finished, Billy's unpacked your bags and stuck a wash on. It makes you feel all warm inside, the little gestures he performs that show he loves you. That you're his person to look after. You wrap yourself up in a towel and pad into the living room.

"All better?" he asks from where he's sitting on the sofa.

"Yeah. I need a proper brew, though. Want one?"

"Go on, then."

In the little kitchen, you pull out two mugs. They're ones you painted together on a date when you were still teenagers. He painted sprigs of lavender on his. It's what you smelled of on your first date. It's his favourite smell now, and your favourite flower. The memory makes you smile.

Strong arms encircle you as the kettle boils. A sharp chin finds its place on your bare shoulder. You put a tea bag in each mug, and a teaspoon of sugar in yours. Where Billy's mug has your signature lavender painted on it, yours has yours and his initials in a purple love heart.

"Shouldn't I be the one making you a drink?" he asks softly. His voice is low and smooth, every bit a comfort as a cup of tea.

"You've done plenty for me! But you can wash it up later, if it makes you feel better."

He laughs lowly, and kisses your neck. "Mmm. You smell nice now."

"Yeah, I didn't enjoy stinking of eau de Ryanair."

"Mm. Much better now. All clean. Just in time to make you dirty again."

You lean back against him as you cackle in delight. "That's a shit line, Billy! You'll have to try harder than that."

The kettle shakes as it comes to a loud boil, and you pour the hot water, followed by milk. The tea bags can stew for a few minutes.

"You want me to try different lines?"

"Hmm. Depends what lines you've got."

"I don't think I've got any."

You turn to face him and give him a smile. "You must have some. You know the right things to say in certain contexts."

He tilts his head down almost bashfully. "That's different."

"Yeah?"

"It's easy to say the right things when you're already half out your mind."

Heat flushes your cheeks, and you rest your hands on his shoulders to pull him down for a sweet kiss. "That's true. And you always know what to say then, anyway. How do you know what to say?"

Billy gently presses you back against the counter and places his hands on it either side of you. His gaze roams down your neck and to your exposed collarbones and shoulders. "Dunno. You just make me want to say them."

"Well, I'm glad that you do. You know, Sofia told us that Tom doesn't even talk during sex?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sometimes she has to even beg him to go down. He doesn't like doing it that much."

Billy meets your gaze with surprise in his eyes. "Really? Tommy?"

You nod.

"Huh. Maybe I need to get better friends."

That makes you laugh. "You should give him some tips!"

"I dunno. You think I've got anything worth sharing?"

You swallow. Butterflies have burst into your stomach. Just talking about it makes your skin tingle. And it's been a week. A week away from Billy might as well be a year. Yeah, a holiday with friends was really nice, but it had its drawbacks. On the second night you had cried because you missed him. Of course, your friends had laughed and rolled their eyes, and you'd got yourself together quick, but- but Billy.

"Yeah. You're alright at it, I guess."

His smile is so sweet as he leans closer to you. He tilts his head down and cocks it slightly to the side. "Only alright?"

You lick your lips. "Well. It's a better way for you to use your mouth than trying shit chat up lines."

"Wouldn't you prefer it was that way round, though?"

You try - and fail - to bite back your laughter. You're still blushing. "Yeah... when you put it like that."

"I missed it while you were away, you know?"

"'It'?"

He kisses your lips softly, nipping ever so slightly. "Your taste."

The power he holds over you is unreasonable. When he pulls away, your breath is still held. "My...?"

He watches your face for a moment, and then grabs the cups behind you. "C'mon. Let's go sit down."

Where he goes, you so happily follow. Back in the living room, you sit on the sofa next to him and cradle the mug in your hands. You blow on the top of the tea, and take a sip. Mm. Tastes like home.

"So what did you do with yourself while I was away?"

Billy positions himself on the cushions so that he's close to you, facing you, his knee touching yours. "Work. Saw Lana."

"How is she?"

"Settling in, I think. Mum and Dad are happy she's home."

"Bit of a different climate to the Middle East, though." You smile.

He sips his drink, too, as his fingers ghost along your shoulder. "Hmm."

"How's work?"

He doesn't answer. But his expression is soft. His sweet blue eyes follow the line his finger traces on your skin, up the side of your neck, and then down to where the towel is still wrapped under your arms and over your body.

"Billy?"

"Work's fine."

Another sip. And then he leans in and kisses your throat. The tea makes his mouth hot, and it draws a quiet noise from you. "I'm so glad you're home."

"Me too."

As he kisses your throat again, you take another sip. It's sweet, refreshing, soul-warming. The tea is nice, too. You smile softly.

When Billy's fingers carefully tug the towel open, you let it fall with a certain amount of relief. Since you came out of the bathroom in it, you've wanted him to do this. To welcome you home properly. From the moment he gripped your thigh in the car, actually, your heart has been quicker.

"Give me your cup." He takes it from your fingers, half empty, and rests it next to yours on the table. Another intimate gesture, a sign of him taking care of you.

Your body is dry now, clean and smooth and fresh. He runs his hand over your stomach and up your side, and his thumb caresses the swell of your breast. The other hand turns your face by the chin to look at him. He smiles slightly. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I missed you."

It never gets old, hearing that. "I missed you, too."

He kisses your mouth again. You close your eyes, and give into him.

How beautiful it is when you give into him, he thinks. You're clay under his hands, ready to be moulded, shaped, turned into something divine with the help of his touch. How you part your lips when he guides you makes his heart leap. He sighs when your tongues meet lazily. It's a hot and wet pressure that sends bolts of lighting down his spine.

He could kiss you all day and all night and never get bored, never need more. You're so soft and pliant under him. How sacred it is, to be wanted like this. Billy keeps hold of your chin as you share deep kisses, while his other hand spreads fingers wide and caresses your side. After a long moment, he guides you to lie back on the sofa.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes against your cheek.

You laugh breathlessly. "Even with these tan lines?"

Smiling, he traces the line over the top of your breast. Your skin is so supple here. "Yes."

"They look stupid."

"Better than there being no tan lines at all."

"I'd never sunbathe topless."

Just the thought makes his arms tingle. It makes him bite gently against the shell of your ear. His breath is hot against it. "You'd better not. Your body is for my eyes only."

That earns a soft sigh from you. "Says who?"

It's a poor attempt on your part to tease and challenge him, but already it's under his control that you've fallen. "You. Every time you give yourself to me like this, it's a promise that you're mine."

"You don't own me." But your voice is gentle, your smile wide.

"No? Then why have you stopped breathing?"

It's satisfying how you gasp under his touch. He kisses you deeply a final time before his lips find a path down your skin. He follows the curve of your jaw and the slope of your neck, and at your collarbone, he leaves careful bites to the bone. Between your breasts, he presses his nose and breathes hard.

Across your lower back, he splays his fingers and lifts you up slightly. You arch closer to him, and he hums lowly at the grasp on his sandy hair.

"So beautiful." He can't help telling you again and again. "You're so beautiful."

You laugh softly. "Stop being so sweet." But your eyes are closed, he sees as he glances up, and you're preening at his words.

"You want me to be cruel?"

Again, you laugh. "Alright. You can keep being sweet."

"That's my girl."

Billy kisses the underside of your breast, and brings one hand to the other to carefully massage it. He bites the delicate skin here and there, and makes a pattern of kisses around your flesh. As he neglects your nipple, you feel your areolas tighten at the stimulation and anticipation.

"Please," you whisper.

"There's no rush," he soothes.

"But I want you."

He kisses your sternum harder than before. "I know, baby. Just relax. I'll take care of you."

You whimper quietly. He's doing everything right, except this time he's being slow about it. He drags his pretty lips down your stomach and you tense, but then he returns back up to your neck.

"Relax," he whispers.

You try to let the tension go, but it's difficult when anticipation is coursing through you. You open your eyes to see him looking down at you. Against your waist, his thumb runs soothing circles.

"Take deep breaths for me," Billy murmurs. As he leans over you, his short hair falls over his eyes, and it makes you smile. You stroke his face affectionately. You do as you're told.

"That's it. In, and out, nice and slow. Good job, baby. Just like that."

As the tension slowly melts away from your body, Billy is satisfied. Barely holding back his hunger, he returns his attention to your breasts. As you lie comfortably on the sofa, focusing on your breathing, he strokes up and down your sides, fingers ghosting along the swell of your breasts. Circles replace strokes, the tips of all four fingers trailing wide over your flesh.

When his touch glides over your pebbled areolas, you sigh and smile. The expression on your face makes his stomach tense. God, he could come from that alone.

"Does that feel nice?"

The deep breathing you've been practising has you finally relaxed and almost in a haze of desire now, and you nod. Words are out of your grasp, but you give him an encouraging hum. The anticipation no longer feels like a burden - now, it's just a promise.

"It feels nice for me, too." Closer and closer, Billy's fingers get to where you want them. And then, with a careful grasp around the bottom of your breast, he licks over your nipple. The stimulation makes you whimper and arch up. He runs the tip of his tongue around it, watching your face carefully for your reaction. Against your other breast, his fingers mirror the action of his mouth.

Billy blows cool air over where his tongue has been. He smiles when you toss your head to the side in response. After taking a long sip of warm tea, he takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks. The heat and rush of blood is so good.

You try to rub your thighs together to relieve some of the tension, but his knees are between yours and you can't. Instead, as the tension at your chest makes your mind foggy, you clench and unclench, driving your pleasure higher.

He notices. He can read you. "Easy," he whispers. "Breathe." His eyes bear into yours, blue flame, and you nod, obeying him. He smiles. "Good girl."

Another whimper sounds in your throat. He rewards you with his mouth again.

"Oh, God," you sigh. "Yes. Please."

Not a single touch has drifted south of your navel yet, but that doesn't matter. The attention at your breasts is more than enough. Pleasure builds deep within your body at the touches Billy lavishes on you. Soon, your steady breaths are not so steady anymore. Your jaw is slack, your hands fists at your side.

"Yes, yes, yes!"

He pulls off your nipple only to latch onto your other one. His fingers replace his mouth quickly and between his finger and thumb he carefully twists and pulls on you. Teeth catch puckered skin, and the sensation sets your whole body aflame. It drives you higher and higher.

"P-please!"

His free hand is firm around your back and he holds you firmly in his strong arm. You're drunk on his attention, seeing stars, consumed by him, by your Billy. The attention on your nipples is everything you need, and it builds and builds and your vision blacks out, you lose all sense of the world, and, and-!

"Fuck! Fuck, Billy! Yes, yes-!"

"Good girl," he hisses with your nipple between his teeth. His eyes are fixed on your face. "Just like that, baby. You're doing so well-!"

"Oh, shit-!"

As your orgasm erupts within you, you swear and writhe, burning. You twist and turn and arch, pleasure washing over you and making you cry out. It's overwhelming. It rips through every cell until you're shaking and mewling.

Billy's attentions slow, and after a long moment of taking you through your long peak, he presses his forehead over your heart. Hands stroke your sides soothingly, down your hips and thighs, and back up to your arms.

Silence follows. It's only punctuated by your heavy breathing, his quiet noises of encouragement.

"That was so good," he praises softly. "You're so pretty when you come."

You sling an arm over your eyes, but laugh softly at the praise. With your orgasm, some tension has been relieved from your body, but the haze in your mind remains. "Billy..."

"You want more?"

With flushed cheeks, you nod.

"Where do you want me?"

You trace your skin and drag a long line down your chest, your stomach, your hip. You spread your thighs and rest one foot on the floor for balance. The other is thrown onto the back of the sofa.

Billy lets out a shaking breath. "Oh, baby. You're so generous. All for me?"

The arm that was over your eyes now reaches for him, and you hold his hand. Lacing your fingers together feels as intimate as anything else. The butterflies in your stomach take flight again. "You."

"I missed your taste so much." He slinks down your body and kneels in front of the sofa. Strong arms twist you so that your legs come to rest on his shoulders. "Look how ready you are for me. Oh, you're so pretty."

His mouth is watering at the sight of you. Glistening, swollen, hot. His toes curl.

"Please," you whisper.

"What do you want me to do, baby?"

The pet name makes your thighs twitch. You used to cringe when you heard people call their partners 'baby', but in the most intimate moments with Billy, it feels so right. You're his. "Your mouth."

"Should I use it for 'shit chat up lines'?" And despite the overwhelming desire that shrouds you both, he grins.

God, it's so pretty the way his lips pull up like that. It makes his eyes sparkle, brings out smile lines on his cheeks. He's so loveable. "No. The other thing."

"What other thing?"

"You know."

He kisses the inside of your knee where it rests on his shoulder. "I know. But I want to hear you say it."

You blush - you hear your heartbeat in your ears. You feel it rush between your legs. "Please, Billy. Eat me out."

He almost growls in relief. "God, you're such a good girl. Thank you for using your words for me."

The praise makes you whimper. He's so good at it.

Between your thighs, Billy bites his lip. And then he closes the distance, and he's home. There's no home without you, not really, and this is the hearth. Warmth, fire, comfort. He loves your soul - but it's your cunt he worships.

His fingers make a 'v' shape at the apex of your thighs to spread you wide for him. The sight of your swollen clit, red and wet, makes him groan quietly. He tilts your hips slightly and presses his tongue first to your entrance, and the briny saltness of your readiness makes his eyes close. Your taste. Your fucking taste.

"Look at me." Your voice floats in the air like a song. His eyes open quickly and meet yours. It sends bolts of pleasure through him to hold your gaze as he runs his tongue up your length. Beneath it, your pulse rushes. A testament to how much you need him. How desperate he makes you. It's a love letter, every beat.

His tongue is soft while he pries at your entrance. The nerves there are stimulated in response, and your stomach tenses and relaxes in a familiar rhythm. Like he did around your nipple, here, he circles in a steady pace until you're arching closer for something more. As he sucks on your soft folds, you throw your head back and whine.

"Billy," you moan. "That feels so fucking good."

You're rewarded with a long lick up to your bud. He can't resist ghosting his teeth over it, and when you squeal, he smiles against your cunt. Each time you glance down at him, you meet his gaze. He can't take his eyes off your face.

Between his legs, his cock is neglected and aching. There is no stimulation for him, no relief. But it's like he's sharing in your physical pleasure now. He applies pressure with the flat of his tongue to your clit and rubs it back and forth, and the pleasure that builds for you also does for him.

Then, he pulls back.

"Shit, Billy-!" You glance down at him, panting, and see how wet his chin and lips and nose are. It makes you proud. All for him.

He can't keep away from you for long, though. Only a few seconds of respite are given to you before his tongue finds its place back on you. You're so warm and silky against his mouth, it's heaven. So slick and wet, too, impossibly ready. Billy nods his head up and down - still holding your gaze like his life depends on it - and lets his tongue pry against your entrance. Just a little angle change, and his nose catches the underside of your clit.

"Yes!" you beg. "Just like that, right there!"

But he can do more for you. He can be better, always better. With your thick scent filling his nose, your salty taste filling his mouth, he nips at your folds and then finally, finally, seals his lips around your clit.

Stars pop in his eyes now, not just yours. His cheeks hollow out as he sucks on you. Arms clamp around your thighs, biceps straining to hold you fast. Your own hands bury into his sandy hair to stop him from moving, too. You're locked together, bodies and souls.

"Yes!" you encourage again. "Billy, I'm so close, I'm so close, keep going, please, pl-!"

His mouth fills with your taste, with his own saliva, and he keeps suckling on you. Pressure is building in your stomach and his, and your cries and moans and begs push him, push him, push him. It's too much, he'll crack soon, he can't last much longer, not with your own climax imminent-

"Billy! Billy! Oh my God, oh my God! Billy! Bill-"

The lips around your clit wrench an orgasm from you that makes you scream. Your knees tighten against his ears and your whole body shakes. It washes over you for five seconds, ten, fifteen-! Your throat is raw from the gutteral cries, your cunt is throbbing from the tension and release, tension and release.

And then Billy is moaning between your thighs. His blue eyes are fixed on yours. But they're blown wide, and his hands are trembling, and then his jaw is slack, and his whole body jerks once. You whimper when you realise what's happened. It's the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen.

He’s come just from eating you out alone. No touch, no stimulation. Just making you finish has him spilling in his fucking trousers.

After a while, you both go limp. He barely has the strength left to climb on top of you on the sofa, but somehow he manages.

Minutes go by. Your breathing steadies. It matches up. Your hearts beat in tandem.

Peace reigns in your home.

After a while - minutes, hours, who knows? - you return to your body. The weight of Billy on top of you helps. Your hands find their way back into his hair, and you slowly massage his scalp.

"Mmm."

You smile at the noise he makes. "You're brilliant. You know that, right?"

His face is tucked into your neck, sweaty and sticky. "For that?"

"For everything."

"Mmm?"

"Yeah. I mean, you're good at that." You laugh quietly. It makes him shake a little on top of you. "But everything else, too. You picked me up from the airport. You made sure the flat was spotless. You bought me lavender."

He kisses your neck softly. "This is all I think of."

"Mm?"

"It's you, all for you. Everything I do."

You pull him closer and smile, letting your eyes close in bliss. "You're my heaven."

Billy strokes your sides. "You're my home."

#Billy Washington x female reader #billy washington x reader #billy washington x you #billy washington #ewan mitchell #trigger point #mine #billy multi

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