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#but i feel that familiar pit in my stomach
vbecker10 · 3 days
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Can you do a jealous ex where reader is with Loki and the ex starts getting mad and starts texting and calling reader constantly then one day she forgot her phone and Loki reads the texts and listens to the voicemails then reader comes home to a concerned Loki because reader got hurt somehow?
She's Mine Now
Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)
Summary: You and Loki have only just started dating and you're worried your ex-boyfriend will ruin everything. You've been able to hide how often your ex contacts you but one night he calls over and over while you are with Loki. After finally admitting to Loki what has been going on, the God of Mischief takes matters into his own hands.
Warnings: controlling ex-boyfriend, jealous ex-boyfriend, some vague mentions of previous abuse (nothing specific), arguing, swearing, threatening language, name calling, Loki being super protective
A/N: I'm so so so sorry it took me ages to get to this. I'm finally going through my request box and I loved this the minute I saw it. I changed it just a little but I hope that's OK. Thank you for sending it! I hope you like it! 💚
Also... I realized as I was proofreading this that I never named the ex-boyfriend so it's whatever you want it to be lol pick any jerk you know haha
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Loki sits on the end of his couch, your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers run slowly up and down your arm. You've only been together a month but you have completely fallen for him. You look up at him and smile when he laughs at the movie you selected.
He notices you watching him and kisses your nose causing you to giggle. "The movie is more interesting than I am, I assure you," he jokes.
"I've seen it," you respond but rest your head against him again.
Everything about him makes you want to tell him how perfect he is and how deeply you love him but you are afraid to. A small voice inside you keeps holding you back from opening up to him the way you want to. Every time you told you ex-boyfriend you loved him, he would tell you that you sounded clingy or needy or desperate. You don't want Loki to feel the same so you keep those three words to yourself.
Loki's fingers move from your arm to your back, moving in slow circles. You close your eyes and focus on how calming it feels but then his hand moves further up. He begins playing with your hair, his eyes still fixed on the screen, a small smile on his lips. You try to keep your thoughts from racing as you feel a familiar pit growing in your stomach. He's upset, he doesn't like your hair this way, your inner voice starts to spread panic throughout your body, he's going to grab a fistful of it any second and yell at you. You tense as his fingers gently run through your hair and he notices the change in your behavior.
"Are you okay, love?" he asks, he removes his hand and looks down at you concerned.
"Yea, I just-" you look down and begin playing with the sleeve on your sweater as your mind replays what happened the last time you got a haircut without talking to your ex first. "I'm sorry, I- I was going to ask you before I cut my hair. I know I should have but I was only going for a trim so I thought it was okay but then I saw a shorter style I really liked and I just went for it but-"
He cuts off your words suddenly when his lips met yours, your whole body responds to his kiss and the feeling of his hand softly touching your cheek, relaxing you instantly. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours so he knows you are listening to him. "It's your hair darling. You can do what you like with it," he gently plays with the ends of your hair. "You don't need to ask me to do things like this," he says as if it is obvious.
You nod and remind yourself for the hundredth time that Loki is not your ex-boyfriend.
He settles back on the couch, bringing you with him easily, his arm around you. He smiles and adds, "I'm sorry if I forgot to tell you that you look beautiful today."
You blush and bury your face against his chest, the heavy feeling inside of you vanishing completely. He kisses the top of your head and goes back to watching the movie. You close your eyes and force the images of your ex-boyfriend's reaction from your mind, replacing them with Loki's words.
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Half an hour later your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You lean forward to try and reach for it but Loki keeps his arm around you. You giggle and try again but he doesn't let go. He looks down at you and smirks, "Where do you think you're going?"
Your phone continues to vibrate. "I need to answer my phone," you roll your eyes.
He looks back towards the TV and dramatically puts his foot on the edge of the coffee table, sliding it further away from you as he straightens his leg.
"Loki!" you laugh as a smile spreads across his lips. He finally loosens his grip so you can get up. You pick up your phone but as soon as you see the number, you end the call and put it face down on the table.
"Who is it?" he asks.
"Wrong number," you answer with a shrug but the laughter is gone from your voice.
You sit heavily next to him and he waves his hand to bring the table back to its original spot. He doesn't respond but you know he can tell you are lying, his expression has become serious and his eyes remain fixed on your phone. Before you can think of a better excuse, your phone begins to vibrate again. You grab it and hang up quickly without stopping to see the number, you know who is calling.
"Who is it, Y/N?" he asks again, his tone is curious but you can feel your nerves getting worse.
"It's no one," you tell him as you tug on your sleeve again.
He sighs at your response and turns off the TV. "I don't like being lied to," he says as he faces you.
"I know," you shrink away from him, waiting for him to yell or tell you to leave.
"Y/N," he reaches out to touch your chin lightly, wanting you to look at him but you flinch away from his touch involuntary. He pulls away as well, giving you more space instead of invading yours. You look up after a moment and instead of seeing anger in his eyes as you expect, he looks sad.
You know in your heart Loki would never hurt you but your instincts had forced you to distance yourself from him. When your ex was upset because you had lied or had done something he thought was wrong, he could be unpredictable.
Your phone vibrates again and he sighs as he picks it up off the table. He hands it to you and says, "Whoever it is must really want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk to him," you tell Loki, trying to hold back your tears. You toss it away from you wanting it as far from you as possible. It skims over the top of the coffee table and lands on the ground in front of the TV.
"Who keeps calling you, Y/N?" he asks again and this time you know you need to answer him.
You tuck your legs underneath you and move further away from Loki, wrapping your arms around yourself. He shifts his body to face you but doesn't move any closer. "It's my ex-boyfriend," you tell him, you try to keep the fear from your voice but you know he hears it.
"The one Wanda told me about?" he asks, his eyes glance towards your phone and you see a flash of anger cross his face.
You nod but don't say anything else, you had barely mentioned your ex to Loki for so many reasons. You aren't sure how much Wanda told Loki but it was obviously more then you had ever shared with him.
"Please talk to me," he says, moving towards you slowly, testing to see if you will pull away again. "I don't understand why he would still be calling you. I thought you ended things with him months before I met you."
"He started calling and texting me again a few days after our first date," you finally admit to Loki. "I don't know how he even found out about us..." your voice trails off as you look down.
You feel Loki move closer to you again and your body tenses as you prepare for an argument or worse, you shouldn't have hidden this from him, it was as bad as lying.
"I'm not texting him back I promise. I always ignore him. I don't want him to call me but he just keeps doing it, I've asked him to stop but he won't," you say quickly, all in one breath. Loki opens his mouth to say something but you are too afraid to give him a chance. "I didn't want you to be upset, that's why I didn't tell you, I wasn't trying to hide anything or lie about it, I'm sorry," you feel the apology pouring out as it had so many times with your ex. You cover your face with your hands but can't stop the first few tears from escaping.
"I'm not upset Y/N," he says softly. He gently touches your hands and slowly takes them away from your face, "I'm worried about you, that's all."
You look at him, not having expected that response. When your ex found out you were texting Wanda after work, he had been furious. He had never met her and didn't want you telling a stranger anything about him or your relationship.
"I'm sorry," you mumble quietly, not even sure what you are sorry for anymore.
"Please stop apologizing," he says in a calm voice, "You haven't done anything wrong." He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his eyes never leaving yours.
You nod and without thinking you answer him, "Sorry."
He gives you a half smile and puts his arms around you, pulling you close. You squeeze your eyes shut and press your cheek to his chest as he rubs your back slowly. He holds you and sighs, "I don't know what he did to you... and I will never ask you to tell me," he adds when you look up at him, "But I need you to remember that I am not him. I never want you to be scared of me, you can tell me anything."
"I know," you wipe your eyes again. "I'm sorry-"
He raises an eyebrow at you and you let out a small laugh. "There's that beautiful smile I love so much," he smiles in return.
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A few hours later, Loki lays awake staring at the ceiling, wishing you hadn't left. He has told you on numerous occasions that he sleeps much better when you are curled up in his arms. Unfortunately, you need to run an errand before work tomorrow so you had gone back to your apartment after the movie finished. Closing his eyes, he rolls over but sits up quickly when he hears a faint buzzing sound.
He gets out of bed and follows the sound into his living room. Loki looks around as the buzzing gets louder until he finally sees your phone lighting up on the floor just under the tv stand. You must have forgotten you threw it there when your ex-boyfriend was calling. He was worried when you didn't text him to say you arrived home like you always did, so at least now he knows why.
He stands still for a moment, watching it ring as he debates what to do next. The call ends and he bends down to pick it up then he takes a seat on the couch. After a few seconds, it vibrates once more notifying him that there is a new voicemail.
He sits back, phone in one hand with his other hand over his eyes. Loki trusts you more than anyone he has ever known, on Midgard or on Asgard and doesn't want you to think he's invading your privacy. It's not you he wants to check up on, it's your ex-boyfriend. Everything he knows about him, he heard from Wanda in one very short but eye opening conversation. She only told him what little she knew but it was enough for Loki to know that you deserved better. He sounded like a man you weren't safe with and your reaction to his calls tonight confirmed that for him. Loki would do anything to protect you so he takes a deep breath and unlocks your phone.
Thankfully he remembers your password, you had told him what it was last weekend so he could send himself some pictures you took together at the museum. He opens your call history and covers his mouth with his hand in shock. Fifty-three missed calls in the last week alone, he stares at the number in disbelief. You hadn't answered a single call but still he attempted to reach you over and over. Most of the calls came in groups late at night, like they had while you were watching the movie.
He opens your texts, feeling both guilty for looking around and angry knowing what he will likely find. He smiles a bit when he sees how you've saved his name in your phone, Mischief 💚, but immediately frowns when he sees an unsaved number right below his conversation with you.
He clicks on it, at first he barely reads the words, he just scrolls further and further down hoping to find the end. He sees text after text after text, some are long rants while others are a single insulting word and it seems to go on forever. Once a day is a text from you pleading with him to leave you alone but it only seems to enrage him.
Loki quickly goes from upset to angry to furious as he reads the threats and insults your ex-boyfriend had thrown at your over the last few weeks. He grinds his teeth as he thinks about you being afraid of your ex and the things he has done to you. He sits back and types out a lengthy reply but at the last second he deletes it.
With a smirk he sits forward with his elbows on his knees and begins to type a new, much shorter message. He hits send and waits a few moments. Your phone vibrates when your ex replies and Loki turns off your phone before going back to his room.
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You look both ways and cross the street quickly, excited to finally see Loki for lunch like you do every day. You spot him sitting on his usual bench just past the entrance to the park, lost in his book. You smile when he looks up, his book vanishing as he stands. He hugs you tightly then leans down to give you a kiss.
"I missed you," you tell him, his arms still around you.
"Then you shouldn't have left last night," he smiles. "Oh, I believe this is yours," he takes your phone out of his pocket.
"Thanks. I can't believe I forgot it, that was really stupid," you shake your head. You had realized when you got home last night that you had left it at Loki's but it was too late to go back.
Your heart stops when you realize its your ex-boyfriend. You look up at Loki, one of his arms is still around you but his eyes are fixed to your ex as he approaches with a wide smile and outstretched arms.
"You are not stupid," he corrects you and before you can respond you see someone walking over to you.
He continues towards you and when your brain finally registers that he is trying to go in for a hug you free yourself from Loki and quickly back away. Loki moves in response, putting himself easily between you and your ex which causes him to stop.
"Seriously Y/N?" he says, already sounding annoyed with you. "I drove all the way out here for lunch with you and you won't even give me a freaking hug? You're lucky I accepted your ridiculous invitation after you kept ignoring me."
Loki says, "Y/N did not invite you here, I did."
"Oh really?" he's looks from you to Loki and seems unphased that he is face to face with the Prince of Asgard. "What, are you looking for some tips on how to control her better?" he laughs to himself. "Of course, if you've decided you're done with her, I'll gladly take her back. I put years into fixing her, wouldn't want that to go to waste."
You take another step back as his eyes find you again and they roam up and down your body. You suddenly wish you hadn't worn a skirt and you cross your arms tightly around yourself. He always commented on how you dressed, he had so many opinions on what he wanted you to wear.
Loki notices how uncomfortable you are and brings the attention back to himself. "Do not look at her, this conversation is between you and me," he tells your ex.
He sighs and says, "Fine, what do you want?"
Loki holds his anger at back and in a controlled tone says, "You will apologize for how you treated her in the past and then you will leave, never return here or contact her again."
He almost laughs and says, "I treated her the way she deserved. She needed to learn how to behave and you should be thankful I trained her as well as I did."
Your eyes dart from your ex to Loki and your heart races with anxiety about what might happen next. Loki doesn't respond at first, you watch his fist clench and his jaw tighten. He looks like he is holding himself back from lashing out with every bit of strength he has.
"You have no idea what she was like before. When I first met her-" he tries to look at you but Loki cuts him off.
He walk steadily forward, glaring at him as approaches. "I will not stand here and listen to a pathetic mortal like you speak poorly of Y/N. She is kind, funny, generous, creative, beautiful and so much more. She never deserved to be mistreated by the likes of you. Y/N is a queen and I will ensure she is treated as such."
You can't take your eyes off of Loki, you've never had anyone speak about you this way before.
Loki stops just in front of your ex and says, "If you ever speak to her, text her or see her again, I will make sure you suffer greater than any human on Midgard has ever suffered before."
Your ex-boyfriend looks at him in shock but it quickly morphs into anger, he does not take being challenged or threatened well. He takes a small step backwards and says, "You can't just threatened me like that. You might be some fancy royal on your planet but here your just another asshole. If I want to talk to her, I will. She was mine once and I could take her back if I really wanted to."
As soon as the words come out of your ex's mouth, you know he finally pushed Loki too far. Loki's full armor and tall horned crown appear in a bright flash of gold and green. Your ex goes quiet in an instant as you are both reminded that Loki truly is a God among men.
The God of Mischief looms over him, staring down at him, daring him to speak again. Loki raises one hand and suddenly your ex is picked up by his throat, a green mist surrounding his neck. He tries to claw at it but Loki's magic brings him closer, until they are eye to eye. In a dark voice, Loki says, "She's mine now."
Your ex-boyfriend looks utterly terrified and a part of you can't help but enjoy seeing the fear in his eyes after all the pain he inflicted on you. You watch, your heart still pounding quickly. As much as you want your ex to suffer, you are afraid Loki will go to far, you've never seen him so angry. Look had worked so hard over the last few months to gain the trust and support of the Avengers, if he hurts your ex he will have to face serious consequences. As much as you hate your ex-boyfriend, its not worth risking Loki's future with the team or with you.
Loki's magic brings him closer, until the are inches from each other, his feet dangling helplessly above the ground. "Do not doubt for a moment that I will do what needs to be done to protect the woman I love. Is that clear?" Loki asks and he nods rapidly in response.
Loki releases him from his grasps and he falls to the ground. Getting up quickly, he runs from the park without looking back.
Loki's magic vanishes, his crown and armor fading away in the breeze as he turns to face you. The determination and rage in his eyes is gone, replaced with his own nervous fear. Your eyes remain locked on him as he slowly walks towards you.
"Y/N," he asks softly. You don't answer, your mind still processing the events from a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, I never meant to let my temper get so out of control but I just couldn't bear to listen to him talk about you for another moment," he explains and you nod in understanding.
He reaches out to take your hand, looking down as your finger interlock and sighs. "I told you not to be afraid of me and then I showed you exactly what kind of terrifying monster I really am. I never wanted to scare you, I only wanted him to leave you alone."
"You um..." you pause, biting you lip as you think. "You said you love me?"
"Loki," you close the distance between you and touch his cheek with your other hand. "I could never be scared of you." He looks at you slowly and you smile, he breaths a sigh of relief and smiles in return.
He laughs and relaxes completely, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Darling, I have loved you from the first time we spoke," he tells you. "You mean everything to mean."
You reach up and kiss him, his hands move down your back to hold you flush against his body. You look up, still pressed together and say, "I love you too. Thank you for keeping me safe from him."
You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. "I promise, I will always protect you, you just need to tell me what is bothering you," he swears.
You smile when you look into his eyes and see how much he means it. He leans down to kiss you again and between breaths he whispers, "Mine."
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hearts4hughes · 2 days
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I HATE IT HERE | JACK HUGHES
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summary: in which her relationship with jack seems too good to be real. (0.7k words)
authors note: taylor really called out us delusional girlies and daydreamers with this song! it’s my favorite on the album and it deserves something so enjoy this very short writing!
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"come on, don't be scared," jack chuckles as he slowly guides you. you look down, a suspiciously nice pair of skates clad to your feet.
"i'm going to fall!" you squeal, attempting to mimic the way he skates.
his giggle fills the cold air surrounding you. after a day of cozying up together in jack’s lake house, he gets the bright idea that he wants to teach you how to skate. after going to the store and buying you a pair of skates— that he won’t specify the price of— he leads you outside onto the ice. it takes you about ten minutes to even step foot onto the frozen death trap. but with your boyfriend’s persuasive smile and adorable face, you land yourself on the ice, anxiously moving your feet side to side.
"you're fine," he says, his hand moving to your waist. in the cold michigan evening, his hand on your waist sends warmth up your spine.
it all feels too surreal. from the dusting of snow around you to the romantic atmosphere, you feel like you're in one of your favorite romance novels. it all feels too familiar, and at the same time, your eyes scan around you, trying to treasure the moment.
jack stares up at you with a toothy grin. he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world; like you hung the stars in the sky.
“what are you looking at, rowdy?” you say with a smug expression. his face flushes a deep maroon and his eyes fall to the ground. “going shy on me now, are we?”
“i feel like you’re forgetting who’s teaching you how to skate right now.” his hand falls down your waist, giving your butt a squeeze. your bottom lip juts out as he lets out a boyish grin.
“shut up and show me how to move faster.” you retort, though a pink blush still lingers on your cheeks.
jack takes one hand off of your waist, turning his body and slowly demonstrating how he pushes his leg out at an angle. he swiftly picks up speed as you hold onto him. it looks so simple. all it is, is the movement of his legs and feet, but as you try it, you slip, clinging to jack’s body and pulling him down with you.
somehow, his body hits the ice first and you land on top of him. your eyes are wide as you both look at each other. as the realization of what happens sets in, you both bark out in laughter. you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck, an attempt to silence your laughter.
“i love you so damn much.” he says in pure awe.
“i love you so damn much!” you mock him, lifting your head from his chest and staring at him below you.
his cheeks are pink from the cold and his hair a wavy mess that not even the winter hat on his head can hide. your eyes flick down to his lips. they look so plump and kissable.
you lower face, stopping just an inch above his lips. he smirks, “what are you waiting for?” his words are barely above a whisper, eliciting butterflies in your stomach.
but just as your lips press against his, you hear a distant voice.
“y/n?” mr. samson, your ap history teacher, calls out. “are you paying attention?”
you blink, looking around the classroom. you’re in high school, not michigan, and the boy nearest to you is not jack hughes. the realization sets in, causing a pit in your stomach. you suddenly feel nauseous.
had you daydreamed about a relationship with jack hughes once again? no, you couldn’t have. it seemed so real; it felt so real. it was almost like you could feel jack’s hands on your waist, leaving a permanent stain of warmth around your hips.
you swallowed harshly as everyone’s eyes followed you awaiting an answer. “y-yes.” your voice was shaky. people in the back of the classroom snickered at you as others furrowed their brows. your skin felt hot with embarrassment. it was nothing like the flush you felt when jack complimented you.
“ok then.” mr. samson said as he continued his lesson.
you sighed, grabbing your pencil and copying down the notes on the board. you pushed back the recollections of your daydream, putting them into one of the many secret gardens in your mind. they would stay there patiently awaiting until you unlocked and relived them again.
if only.
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killjoygem · 9 months
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Thought my mental health was doing better but it turns up all it needed was one little thing to go wrong for it to fail me again :')
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 3 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.
The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.
It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.
As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.
Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.
Hey baby,
I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!
Love you.
P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO 
Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?
Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort. 
His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.
Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him. 
Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.
The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.
The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.
No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.
You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”
Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.
Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.
“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.
It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.
You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold. 
Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.
“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."
You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.
“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.
Together.
Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low. 
He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind. 
“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”
Home, still such a strange word for him.
Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.
Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.
“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."
You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."
He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."
Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.
Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight. 
Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.
You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.  
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l13 · 9 months
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Ok, so, what about the 141 and König reacting to their s/o not feeling confident abt taking their shirt off during seggs because they are chubby and feel embarrassed about their belly?
Also not feeling confident with getting touched around that area while sleeping/seggs/daily life.
first of all i'm so so so sO SORRY that this took so fucking long (this ask is literally from february 😭) i had this in my drafts for fucking ever and just now found the inspo to finish it:(((((
CHARACTERS : price, ghost, soap, könig
WARNINGS : NSFW, MDNI, female!reader, this is for all my thick girlies <3, talk of body image, insecurities, descriptive mentions of sex, fluff, supportive bfs, not proofread
WORD COUNT: 2,8k
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john price
he's a confused puppy when you first push his hand away from your belly while you guys were cuddling and he rushes to apologize, before noticing how you avoid his gaze nervously and he decides to hold his tongue.
Did he make you uncomfortable? Was it the way he touched you? He got so embarrassed that his ears turned red, deciding to not speak at all.
few days after that he startles you by hugging you from behind, caging you in his arms tightly, and pulling your body flush to his, humming lowly as he pressed kisses to the side of your neck. You try really hard to not look at him as you squirm away from his prying hands, choking out a lame excuse and bolting the other way.
Now he was confused and concerned. He surely fucked up somehow.
This man is so touch starved that it's painful. You don't understand how physical Price is, he needs to hold you, touch and kiss you. He needs to feel close to you and if that gets taken away from him he can't function fr
"Love, if there's summat bothering you... if I made you uncomfortable in any way, I'm-" you cut Price off with furrowed eyebrows, taking his hands in yours and he inhales sharply when you squeeze his hands slightly "No-what? John, what are you talking about?"
There's frustration piling up, and he clenches his jaw looking down at your hands holding his, tenderly. He missed your touch so much. "M gonna be really blunt with ya love, cause I'm hangin' by a thread here.." you lean closer to him as you nod, and he swallows harshly.
"Why.. why don't you let me touch you anymore?" John almost whines, and you gape at him, suddenly at a loss of words. "Tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it, please just talk to me honey" he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, and you almost burst into tears as you catch the redness in his pretty blue eyes.
God, you felt terrible. Yes, you were avoiding Price, but it wasn't his fault at all. The fact that by giving him the cold shoulder because you weren't feeling too good about yourself, brought his own insecurities to the surface made your heart fall to the pit of your stomach.
"You did nothing wrong baby, I'm sorry. I haven't been feeling very.. confident in my skin lately." you said and looked down at the top of your shoes, shifting on your feet nervously. You didn't have to look at Price to know that he was looking at you with those puppy eyes of his.
"Love... I have no words.. I- why?"
Your eyebrows twitched. Why?
His hand came up to grab at your chin softly, nudging it up so you'd look at him. You felt that familiar stinging in your eyes and you blinked away the tears, clearing your throat hurriedly.
His question made your mind go blank. Why the fuck did you feel that way? "I- I don't know... I'm sorry."
"Hey, no honey, don't apologize," he cooed, nudging your temple with his cheek as he lays a kiss against your hair. "Never apologize for what you feel, ya hear?" you smile despite yourself, and nod slightly, wrapping your hands around his middle and burying your face in his neck, his hands in turn coming to rest on your waist softly.
"M just having trouble wrapping my head 'round it 'cause you're God damn perfect, honey. It breaks me that you doubt that." if John can hear how fast your heart's beating he doesn't say anything. He's too busy blinking away his own tears.
Listening to him mutter praises and sweet nothings against your ear made you realize that you should have talked to him about this earlier- cause you'd have experienced price absolutely WORSHIPPING you much much sooner<3
(sorry if this is too sappy)
simon 'ghost' riley
ghost is someone who's fighting his own demons, and that doesn't change when you guys start a relationship together
so whether you're just now starting dating and you're avoiding being touched while hugging/cuddling/sex or if you'd been in a relationship for quite some time and you suddenly change how you act with him because of that- he'll blame himself.
you best belieeeve he'll think there's something wrong with him, that somehow he did something and you finally realized that maybe he's not good enough for you- that you deserve better (yeah his whole fuckin' list of insecurities come up bro)
Everytime you'd reject his advances, even for something as small as a hug, he felt as if someone threw ice cold water down his back
so after a while he'd just stop trying fr
he'd avoid you in turn, become distant and cold
that understandably made you very upset
so now you're BOTH SAD
It was sheer luck that you managed to catch Simon just as he was leaving the kitchen, and you felt relief wash over you as you spotted him washing his mug, ready to put it away. His name left your lips before you realized it, but it went unnoticed apparently. You clenched your jaw as you watched him walk to the door, and you quickly realized that you were at your breaking point.
"Could you just wait a fucking second?"
His broad shoulders tensed as he stopped, throwing a look over his shoulder "Huh?" "Why have you been avoiding me?"
"Excuse me?!" Simon huffed out a dry laugh, whirling around to look at you, his brows drawn together. Guess he wasn't coping well either. "Why have I been avo- are you fucking kidding me?"
You shrugged, "Yeah maybe 'avoiding' isn't the right word. 'Ignoring' or acting like I'm fucking dead maybe? You planning to kill me or something? Practicing your acting skills beforehand?"
Okay yeah you were exaggerating, but who could blame you? Your boyfriend suddenly starts acting like you don't exist, what else are you supposed to think?
Ghost snarls, and strides over to you, pointing his finger at you accusingly, "Listen- if you don't want to be with me anymore, just fucking say that. Don't ignore me for weeks, and then turn that shit on me. Just say we're done and be over with it."
What the fuck?
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
He groans, hand coming up to rub at the back of his head nervously "Don't act so clueless as if you haven't rejected me each time I came even remotely close to touching you- If you're so disgusted by me, then maybe don't ask me out in the first place."
"What? No, Simon-"
"Don't. I get it."
"No, you don't get it I...fuck. Okay, yes i've been avoiding you but not because I'm disgusted by you, don't ever say that again. I've just been.. embarassed, I guess."
Now it was his turn to look at you like you've gone insane, "What for?"
"..I don't know, I mean I.. I can't help but compare myself to you- you're so.. muscle-y, and I'm just.."
"You're just what." you shiver at his authorative tone, avoiding his gaze at all costs.
"I'm.." you trail off, your hands instinctively circling around your torso, and his eyes drop down to follow the movement, his eyebrows furrowing, eyes darkening, "Y'know what nevermind. I'm sorry I've been acti-"
You snap your eyes up at the sound of his loud steps, thinking that he left the room, only to find that he was standing right in front of you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek while the other falls atop your forearm. "You scared me. I thought I lost you and you were just being dumb this whole time?"
You gape at him, slightly offended by his choice of words, "Hey-"
"You're stunning." your breath hitches at his whisper, looking up at him reluctantly, almost bursting to tears at the way he's looking at you-
"Beautiful. Prettiest woman I've ever laid my eyes on, you hear?" his other hand comes up to rest on your other cheek, cradling your face in his palms, squishing them that you're almost pouting from it-
He nudges his nose against your own, thumb tapping your bottom lip once, "Did you hear what I said?"
You swallow harshly, unable to look away from his pretty eyes, "Yes,"
"Good. You're everything to me."
johnny 'soap' mactavish
he is downright offended when he finds out let me tell you
even after how he hypes you up daily? GURL GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER YOU'RE PERFECT AS FU- okay yeah he can't yell you THAT but, he sure as hell will drill it into your brain if he has to
soap never shies away from any physical contact he can give you, whatever the time or place. he will slap, squeeze and grope to his heart's content, he's quick with it of course (don't wanna get caught now, do we?)
okay I'm getting off topic
the first and second time you had sex together, it was quick and rushed, he'd pulled you to the side and fucked you open against a wall, clothes on and all.
the third time he makes sure he treats you right, meaning he makes sure there's a bed involved LMFAO
so imagine his surprise when he turns around, butt ass naked in his room and ready to tackle you on the bed, to see that you were still wearing your shirt on.
...okay?
he's confused but doesn't question you, he thinks he'll just rip it off of you later himself
he shrugs it off like a champ, and strides over to you with a shit eating grin, walking you backwards till you fall on the bed with a soft thud. You smile back at him, but not fully. Not really. That makes his eye twitch. Something was off.
five minutes later he's holding himself upright with a palm beside your head, swallowing dryly as he stares at you with an open mouth and hazy eyes, thrusting inside of you with no promise to stop.
his eyes drop lower, and he catches sight of your nipples poking through your cotton shirt and he groans- sliding his hand under the material to bring it over your breasts and you tense suddenly, pushing his chest till he's shoved to the side, and he watches with wide eyes and a hard cock as you scramble to pull your shirt in place, chest heaving when you steal a nervous glance at him
"I-I'm sorry, can I keep this on?" your voice almost breaks when you speak and Soap is really fucking confused. "Are you cold?" his question catches you off guard and you look at him as if he's grown a second head, closing your eyes shut as he continues to speak, "I can close the window-"
"I'm not cold."
"Ah."
.
.
"Then...?" Johnny trails off and you let out a defeated sigh, "I don't want you to see me." he blinks at your hiss and you bring your knees up, hugging them close to your chest and he thinks he deserves an award for not even glancing at what he knows would be the perfect view of your glistening pussy- Get your fucking act together Johnny, ya fuckin' prick.
Soap seems to be deep in thought for a couple of seconds before his mouth parts in realization. He internally curses himself for even going there, but when he sees you shrinking to yourself, clutching your legs tighter against you, he feels sick. There's no fucking way you felt that way.
"You gotta be joking, hen." his whisper was almost pleading and you felt your chin wobble slightly and he tuts, scooting closer to you to lay a hand on your shoulder, "You can't possibly not know how perfect you are." you scoff out a laugh as you shake your head.
"I'm serious. I can't even begin to imagine why you'd even feel that way. What the fuck do you have to hide? Your stunning beauty? C'mon now." he tilts his head to try and catch your gaze but you avoid him like the plague and he shakes your shoulder back and forth playfully, successfully pulling a small laugh out of you. He decides to ignore the few stray tears that fall down your cheeks to stop his heart from breaking.
He cups your cheek softly and tilts your head up, finally making you look at him "Did someone say something? I need a target to practice on anyway-" you shake your head softly as you sniff and he licks his lips as he drops his forehead on yours,
"You trust me, right?" you nod instantly, and he mutters an okay, "And you know I'd never lie to you?" you hesitate, but nod regardless and he presses a kiss to your wet cheek, "Show me,"
You inhale sharply, and you're shivering before you even realize that you've taken your shirt off- your hands coming up to shield your breasts, as if you're not naked from the waist-down.
A chill runs down your spine as you wait, and when you hear Soap let out a shuddering breath your gaze snaps up to him. You're surprised to see the utter adoration in his eyes- looking at you as if you'd hanged the moon and stars.
His fingers shake slightly when his hands come to rest on top of yours, his eyes holding an unspoken question. Can I?
You swallow dryly, bringing your hands up to your face instead, hiding your flushed cheeks in the safety of your palms.
"Ah quit your theatrics ya fuckin' minx. Look at you." Soap hisses, his voice suddenly dropping an octave. You hear him mutter a curse, and feel him run his hands all over you- your belly, your sides, your tits-
You yelp when he pushes you flat against the sheets, and you grab at his hair when he starts to press kisses on your lower belly, "Johnny-" he groans, biting at your plush flesh, hands kneading your sides in appreciation, savoring. "You're so fuckin' beautiful- jesus fuckin' christ,"
yeah he made you feel better alright.
könig
like ghost he's a bit insecure himself. has his own issues and doubts about himself so he gets it
but still can't believe that YOU feel that way
like you and your perfect self? he gets so frustrated that he wants to punch something
how DARE you think you're not perfect, how dare you.
once he finds out how you feel he makes it his mission in life to spoil you rotten, and make you realize how incredible you are
this makes me think back to that other ask I got about him fingering you while making you look at yourself in the mirror- booooyyy
HE WOULD IN THIS SCENARIO AS WELL, I JUST KNOW IT.
he'd be so angry at you for not loving yourself LMFAOOO HE'D BE POUTING I SWEAR
man turns FERAL, it's the most dominant you've ever seen him-
he'd make you see yourself how he sees you, if it's the last thing he ever did
"Don't you dare look away, liebling," you squirm in König's hold, his hand holding your jaw, making sure you won't miss a thing as he runs his other hand aaaall over your middle, squeezing the plump flesh in his hands as he goes.
You watch Konig's face in the mirror, speechless at how dazed he looked, half-lidded eyes trailing all over your naked form- drinking in all your curves hungrily. He groans lowly, his eyes almost rolling back when he squeezes your supple skin "I can't... how can you look this good and not know it?"
"König-" you go to turn your face in order to look at him, but his hand tightens against your jaw, making you whimper and keep your head in place, "No. Look away and you'll regret it. Now, repeat what I said earlier-"
"But-"
"I won't ask again, liebling."
You give the tiniest moan when his hand snakes in between your legs, his palm cupping your pussy, nd you grind down at it needily "I-I'm beautiful.."
He hums, "And..?" his fingers gather up your slick to circle up your clit, drawing three, four tight circles on the nub before he's sliding them down again, slipping two fingers inside your pussy, thrusting them lazily in and out of your drenched cunt.
You mewl, circling your hips against the palm of his hand, loving the way it nudged your clit the slightest bit, "Jesus christ.. and g-gorgeous.."
"Mhm that's right, my love. Doubt that again and I'll make sure you won't be able to walk for a week, yeah?" he smiles at your reflection, and it would have been so innocent and almost shy if it weren't for the devious glint in his eyes.
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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rissouu · 3 months
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plug!eren who loves music so much that every time he fucks you he just has to blast his playlist. like right now, peso by a$ap rocky was the only thing that could be heard in the room, along with your soft moans and his grunts. “f-fuck mama. you gotta let daddy in here baby, ease up.” the brown haired man let his hands roam towards your tummy— gently gripping the slight pudge you had. “mm..m please ren… no more! ‘ts too much,” your free hand came up to his stomach in attempt to push the man away, but there was only so much you could do before he slapped it away. “quit tryna’ make me stop.. i hope you know i’m nuttin’ in this shit too-“ you let out a unfamiliar sound at his words, it wasn’t a moan— more like a whine. even though you tried to hide it, it didn’t take long for eren to catch on.. the way your sweet pussy clenched around him even tighter when he threatened to cum in you said it all. “you like that? want daddy to fill this pretty pussy up, give you my all babies huh?” his vulgar words only egged you on more.. and you surely found yourself liking the thought of carrying his children.. (probably more than you should’ve). “awn s..shit! please pa, wan’ you to cum in me s’bad.” you started babbling, feeling a familiar pit rising in your stomach. eren knew you were too fucked out to even realize what you were saying— what you were agreeing to. but oh well, you’d look cute with your tummy swollen (especially if it was because of him). “i got you my pretty girl.. we gon’ have some beautiful babies.”
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bunicate · 1 month
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omg congrats on pulling bladie!!! big brother blade lives on my mind ngl ik he loves to spoil his lil sister’s pussy the second his parents r outta the houseee ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 . blade x fem reader
warnings ꒱ྀི incest. brief anal. creampie. a litl bit of possessive bladie. he says some dubious things. just a smidge of jealousy. “little girl” usage. breeding mention. unedited ofkurs ノ wc ꒱ 1.4k ノ 18+ ノ if uncomfy pls scroll or block ^_^
muhehe tysm ! ! still trying to build him ! he’s far from perfect but at least he’s at home with me. yk I had 2 pull through nd write smthn icky for him but I did go in a tad bit different direction :<<
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you feel it, regret pooling in the pit of your stomach like rocks settling at the bottom of a shallow lake. the beating of your heart stutters out of tandem with the batter of blades hips.
his firm hands anchor themselves on the softness of your lower back, dull nails digging into your skin like thorns.
he fucks you with such depravity, and your obnoxiously noisy cunt salivated in response to the familiar bump of his cock. 
it was far too late for regrets, you knew it well, even as he’s buried himself to the hilt. your parents were a thing of the past, but there’s always the potential of subjecting an innocent passerby to the sight of your brother rubbing your tender insides with his cock. 
despite your roused state, you're still capable of reason, though your brother seemed to have a complete disregard for it.
“b-bladie.”
it’s soft on his ears, polite, although honeyed with a subtle warning accompanied by the slow pulse of your cunt. 
his cock twitches from your quiet plea. he’s close, and at this point, he knows better than to cross the line any further, but you were elusive to your own charms. how could he bury his urges when your round and soft butt continued to smack against his pelvis ? your cunt drooled each time he pulled out.
 its such a sight for sore eyes, and somehow his gaze kept wandering to the tight rim above, making his breathing ragged— almost animalistic.
 he’s seen all of you, sights no older brother should witness, but it didn’t stop him from wanting more.
it should terrify you, the lengths he goes to stake his claim over you. coming as close as threatening to breed you and keep you bound to him like a pet. predators would be wise to never cross the hunter, even they could sense the extent of his prowess. 
blade purposefully keeps you out of his affairs, but you know he’s a fearsome warrior. he’s tall and slender and with each movement, his hulk of muscle flexes. he’s strong enough to drag your body up and down his member, serving as a stark reminder of the gap in strength.
blade's palms, rough from wielding his ancient sword, settled on both sides of your waist, steels its grip. his thumb presses against your back, and the tips of his fingers meet at your belly button.
he bounces you on his cock, using you like a doll factored for fucking. he lifted you repeatedly like you weighed nothing and all you could do was submit to his brutal pace. 
blade bites his lip to prevent curses from escaping.
he feels . . . good, better than usual. your swollen pussy tugs on his length, drawing out the remnants of his willpower. the desire to cum and bury it in your womb causes blood to rush.
like you can sense the danger, you peer over your shoulder cautiously. 
“you h-have to pull out . . y’can’t just cum inside, okay ?”
such a redundant conversation, and he pays it no mind. 
what good would it be to do something so risky—so wrong, but for blade, it would be worth the peril. 
he doesn’t acknowledge your admonition, instead pressing you further into the sheets, elongating the arch in your back.
“stay still.” 
his hand collides with your backside and a startled gasp echoes. the apple of your ass cheek stings, while the damp release between your thighs becomes stickier. 
the weight on the bed dips when your big brother lowers himself. his chest presses to your back when he fucks you again.
roaring slaps of moist flesh lie thick in the air. you’re soft, so fragile in his embrace that he could crush you like a dainty flower trampled from being hidden between shards of grass.
when blade feels that familiar tender pulse of your cunt signaling your finish, he painfully pulls out as per your whiny request. he utterly despised having to separate himself from you, but nonetheless, he obeys your wishes. sort of.
his cock stands tall and thick, cream dripping from the edge of his tip. your pussy is agape in front of him, but his eyes linger on the tight coil of your ass.
rough palms enclose in a tight fist around his shaft. he pumps his cock, staring daggers at the rim until his balls hang heavier.
he wanted to empty them, he wanted nothing more than to milk his cock using your sweet cunt, but the hunger that normally consumed him wanted something else for a change. 
he slaps his tip against your puckered hole, humping the pretty flesh. his leaking head increasingly swells as the seconds pass by, turning bright pink. the hunter groans, and heaves, his sickening thoughts running rampant while he envisions himself filling up his little sister. 
he’s no longer computing, his body moves on autopilot, and he’s wiping his glossy tip over your ass. 
“hnn-! n-no more. not there bladie !”
you squeal. the sensation is new and foreign, and you find yourself torn between begging for more or scrambling away.
a growing smirk settles on his face, and you see a slither of his sharp teeth.
“you're mouthy today. maybe i should put my cock somewhere else instead.”
you tense when his tip probes your tight muscle again, rubbing it in circles. he was stimulating your ass, forcing your pussy to twitch out of neglect. 
he mumbles to himself. 
“such a brainless girl. i thought i made it clear that i take what i want.”
his orbital pools mimicking the color of blood narrow. he’s almost there, sloppily fucking the skin of your ass until the slippery head of his member breaches the tight ring. and then he snaps. 
with a single, calculated thrust, relief rains down in waves. he buries his cock in all the way as streams of his cum spurt out, dressing your walls in milky webs.
it’s warm as it fills your insides and your mind becomes a foggy maze. instead of your big brother cumming inside your cunt, he emptied his load in your ass, and nothing but burgeoning heat swallows you up. 
“thats it . . take what i give you.”
it’s hard to retain anything when his breath tickles the sides of your cheek and his pulsing sack mushes against your clit. 
“no part of you is off limits, little girl.” 
by now, you're writhing, and you can’t think about how full you felt. not when his words had you mewling out of shame and excitement.
blade makes sure to deliver a few more thrusts, just to be certain that he’s been thoroughly drained. his heart thrums against his chest, reminding him that he's real—you’re real, and that his cock is stretching his little sister’s ass.
his breathing becomes uneven, the exhales of air caressing the plains of your damp skin.
he lowers his head, his lips settling by the shell of your  ear. 
“soon . .”
long strands of his hair fall into place , resting on your own skin.
“i'll cum inside this tiny cunt and there's nothing you'll be able to do about it.”
a shiver runs down your spine. equal parts of fear and eagerness for that fateful day of promise.
when he pulls out, his seed drips from your opening down the length of your slit. both of his hands grab your ass cheeks to watch the cum nestle between your lower lips and spill on the already soiled sheets. 
carefully he watches your cunt push out the remnants, watching it cascade in thick dollops. 
“such greedy holes.” 
you puff out your cheeks and move the stringy hairs from your face. 
“stop it . . it’s so embarrassing when you say that .” 
you attempt to kick him off, and of course it’s thwarted by his iron hold on you.
he presses a sloppy kiss on your asshole, uncaring of the mess coating your sensitive parts. 
“eeeeeeeek -! you’re sooooooo gross, bladie ! get away from me !”
he spanks your ass to hush your outburst.
“shut up.”
he kisses you to silence more of your complaints. the faint taste of cum on his soft lips mingling against your spit - slicked ones. 
 he pulls away audibly, taking a calm breath. 
“you're seeing jing yuan tomorrow.”
you raise an eyebrow at the sudden mention of the general.
your brother is nothing less of a maverick, only keeping you close and others at a less than reasonable distance.
jing yuan however complicated things. while they weren't as close, anymore you still made an effort to see him despite their soured relationship.
in his scarce free time when he wasn't resting, he taught you all sorts of things. he helped time escape you when boredom struck in blade's absence. 
you nod stiffly, still skeptical at the hunter before you. you're wary of his intentions, but too stimulated to care. 
blade's face betrays no emotion and so, you’re suddenly startled.
you gasp when his teeth nicks at your neck.
he sucks the skin for a few seconds and then kisses the spot he bruised. proud of his handiwork he pulls away to speak up once more. you can nearly hear his smugness.
“. . . send my regards to the general.”
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strang3lov3 · 10 months
Text
For Science
Soft!Joel Miller x Fem Reader
Summary: Joel’s heart breaks at your misery when you’re on your period, so he does what he can to alleviate your pain. 
Warnings: Fluff, smut, blowjobs, fingering, awkward Joel and Reader, period cramps, period sex, unprotected PIV. sweet sweet joel. Mutual pining
W/C: 4k
A/N: For all the menstruating Joel girlies, this one’s for you. And me too, because this shit fucking sucks. Admittedly this is very self indulgent. This isn't my favorite fic, but I hope you guys like it anyway. I feel like it's devoid of a lot of typical period fic tropes so I am unsure if y'all will enjoy. Have a great weekend!
btw, send me an ask or comment if you aren't tagged and would like to be! mwah kisses love you all <3
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as always, please leave me a comment or reblog if you liked the story! i am desperately in need of validation
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Knock knock knock. “You okay in there? Haven’t seen you at all today, honey,” Joel asks as your door swings open slightly. His brows are knit together and his soft eyes are big and worrisome.
Joel hates seeing you like this. You’re huddled with your knees curled into your chest on your bed, trying to will away the pain. Your hands are clutching your stomach, you’re quietly moaning in agony. 
“I think I’m getting sick,” you rasp out, your voice weak. It started with a dull ache in the pit of your stomach that didn’t seem to leave. Then came the nausea. 
“Sick, hm? Can I come in?” Joel asks you. You nod yes, and the door opens wider. His footsteps are soft towards the bed as he sits next to you. “Let me check you for a fever?”
You nod again, not having much energy to use your voice. Joel places a palm first on your forehead, then your cheek. Not satisfied with the results, he repeats the action with the back of his hand. It’s such an unexpectedly sweet and caring gesture, your eyes prick with tears. 
“Not terribly warm,” he mumbles. And then it catches his eye: that rusty bloodstain on your bed, heavy and concentrated to a few square inches. He leans over to check your backside, where he finds the stain mirrored on your pants. “Think you started your period, honey.” he whispers. 
The cramps and nausea feel all too familiar now. 
You hadn’t had a period since the beginning of your trek across the country with Joel and Ellie. Not that it was a super regular occurrence before that, but you often gave your food to the younger girl. Being so malnourished, your period disappeared. It was a welcome exit, your period was always exceptionally painful and miserable for you. 
“Oh,” you move your hand to your ass and press your fingers into where you think the bloodstain should be. And yup, there it is. “Shit.” you grumble, looking at the matching bloodstain on your blanket. The last thing you wanted to do today was laundry. 
Your cheeks heat up slightly. Hiking halfway across the country with someone, modesty is usually thrown out the window. You and Joel have seen each other in all sorts of intimate states, too intimate for the type of relationship you share. But still, you can’t help but be slightly embarrassed.
He must see your blush. “Hey, it’s alright,” Joel assures you softly. “I was gonna go over to Tommy and Maria’s anyway to do some laundry. Why don’t you let me wash your blanket and those clothes, hmm?”
“You really don’t have to, Joel,”
He ignores your gentle protesting. “Nonsense. I’m gonna give ya some privacy for a second, leave what you want washed outside your door. I’ll be back in a few hours,” 
You smile gently, scolding him in your mind. He doesn’t need to be doing all of this for you. He smiles back, warm and shy, before exiting your room and shutting the door behind him. 
You strip, changing into some sweats and fresh panties. In the bathroom are some reusable pads made from old towels that Maria gifted you when you first arrived in Jackson with Joel and Ellie. She gave the last menstrual cup to Ellie, who’s at school today. You put on a pad, toss your soiled clothing outside the door, and curl up with a book on your bed.
Joel lets himself inside Tommy and Maria’s home. Yes, there’s a community laundromat. But those often require socializing, which Joel is not much a fan of. Tommy and Maria generously offered you and Joel their to use washer and dryer instead.
He places the basket of laundry on top of the dryer and begins filling the washer with your clothes and blankets, none of his own, and sprinkles in some detergent. 
Joel lied. He did his laundry yesterday. But he knew how ill you were feeling, and Joel, ever the gentleman, decided to take it upon himself to take care of this for you. The grumpy asshole did have a heart after all. 
“Back so soon?” A voice interrupts. Joel turns to look, it’s Maria standing in the kitchen with her baby on her hip. “Didn’t you do laundry yesterday?”
“I did, yeah,” Joel responds. 
Maria notices your soiled panties sitting on top of the blanket she recognizes as yours in the washer. “She got her period, I’m guessing?”
Joel nods. “Yeah, figured I’d take care of the laundry for her,” “Well aren’t you kind,” Maria says, impressed. Not many guys would take care of washing a woman’s period-bloodied clothing. “I thought she might be starting soon. Noticed yesterday at the dining hall she was complaining of cramps and such. She also seemed a little moodier than usual.”
Joel shuts the lid and turns on the washer. “I thought so too,” he agrees. “She was a little irritable.”
Maria puts on a pot of coffee and offers Joel a cup, to which he accepts. For a while they talk about Tommy, then their new baby. When the washer finishes, Joel moves the clothes and blanket to the dryer. 
“I can drop those off for you if you’d like,” Maria offers. “You may wanna get back and make sure your girl’s doing okay.”
“That’d be great, I was actually thinkin’ the same thing,” Joel thanks Maria. “You don’t have any pain meds, do you? Poor thing looks terrible. She’s all curled up into herself, barely speakin’ to me.”
“No, I don’t, unfortunately,” 
Joel sighs. “How do you deal with it, then? Cramps and all that,”
“Well, a warm bath always helps. So does a heating pad if she has that,” Maria says. 
Joel nods his head. “Is there anything else? Tea? Somethin’, anything. I mean, this girl is absolutely miserable,”
“Well,” Maria starts, unsure if she’s ready to reach this level of personal with her brother-in-law. “Orgasms.”
Joel sputters into his mug as he chokes on the coffee in his mouth. “Pardon?”
“Yeah, orgasms. Have sex with her. It’s what I recommend to all the women here. It does help the cramps subside, at least for a bit,” Maria says. Joel’s face drops, his eyes go wide. “What, are you afraid of blood or something? You’re washing her bloody clothes…”
“No, no. It’s uh, it’s not that. We aren’t…we’ve not…”
Maria stops Joel, understanding. “My apologies. I thought you guys were together like that. Well, God gave women fingers for a reason,” she says, very matter of factly.
Joel blushes, images of you and your wandering fingers flooding his imagination. “Got it,” is all he says. No fucking way in hell he’s going to tell you to masturbate to alleviate your cramps. That can most definitely be a conversation between you and Maria another time, when Joel is far away from you both.
He awkwardly says goodbye then, making his way back to your shared home. Maria sends him home with some potato soup, instructing him to heat it up for you. It’s good comfort food, she says. 
In your bedroom, you look to be in about the same position as you were before. Whimpering in pain, rocking your body back and forth in the fetal position. Anything to shake the hurt away. 
“Hey darlin’, Maria gave me some potato soup to heat up for you. Can I make you some?” Joel’s back in your doorway, his tall frame leaning across the rickety old wood. 
“No, thank you,” you whisper. “Not really hungry.” “Figures. That’s alright. Anything else I can do?”
No, you tell him. Not unless he’s willing to be your human body pillow. This entire time you’ve been bleeding, you’ve been aching for comforting touches. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, warm hands pressing on your lower tummy. The other hand holding your own, thumb tracing back and forth on your skin. Soft kisses on your forehead, your hair. You just want to be loved, gently. The way you so deserve. 
Joel turns to leave then, just about shutting the door behind him. 
Maybe…
“Joel?” you call out. 
“What’s up, honey?” 
“I was just wondering if you’d maybe hold my hand. Just for a second,”
Joel smiles sadly through the crack of the door. “Of course,” he says tenderly, like it shouldn’t have even been a question on your mind. Of course he’ll hold your hand.  He meets you at the bed, sitting awkwardly next to you. He offers you his hand, which you take in both of yours. It’s dry and calloused, but so warm and comforting. “Squeeze me as hard as you need, alright? I can handle it.” Joel adjusts slightly so he’s laying next to you, his other hand stroking your hair. He smiles to himself, small and genuine. 
A wave of ache overtakes your body, beginning in your abdomen and spreading up your chest and down your thighs. Your breasts are heavy and swollen and aching angrily. You groan in agony. “Fuck,” you whimper. 
“What hurts? Where?”
“Everywhere,” you cry. Your hands leave his, and they find their way to his torso. You grasp his sides in your fists and squeeze, but he doesn’t complain. It doesn’t hurt, and even if it did, you’re hurting worse. In truth, he’s savoring the warmth your bodies create together. He loves being able to comfort you like this. 
Joel wraps his arms around your back, dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. “You’re breakin’ my heart, honey,” he whispers. “Let me help you. What can I do?” he asks, hot breath tickling your ear.
“I don’t think you want to,” you murmur.
“Try me,”
You sigh, sitting up on his chest slightly. “Can you…massage me? My chest?” 
Joel’s breath hitches and he shuffles awkwardly. “I suppose,” he starts. 
“I’m sorry. I just need your strong hands, I tried doing it myself but–”
“No, yeah. Of course,” Joel interrupts. He’s at a loss for words, more filthy images of you flooding his mind. Just like before, at Maria’s. “It’s what friends are for, right?” He cringes inwardly at the word he uses. Friends. 
“You’re too good to me,” you mumble. 
“Nonsense, honey,” he hushes you. “Sit up, turn around. I’ve got you.” 
You trust Joel completely. He can be rough around the edges, but you know how soft and nurturing he is on the inside. Joel is meant for this, taking care of the people he loves. 
He spreads his legs and you lean back into the soft warmth of his torso, holding onto his denim clad thighs. He’s awkward to start, still unsure of how to do this, exactly. You take his hands and drag them up, up your tummy, stopping for a second to savor the heat from his palms radiating through to your abdomen, then continue pushing them up your body. You stop just before your breasts, his thumbs lightly tracing the soft flesh of your tits.
“You ready?” he asks, his voice steady and calm but slightly nervous. He wonders if you can hear the way his voice is wavering slightly. 
“Mhm,” you mumble. 
And then he gets to work. Gently, timidly, he runs his hands over the soft flesh of your breasts, then your nipples. You groan at the contact on your sensitive buds. He squeezes gently, then increases pressure experimentally. He can feel how swollen you are as he explores every inch of your chest. 
“Doin’ alright?” he asks, fingers and thumbs digging deep into your breasts. He massages you intently and with such tenderness, his gentle caretaking instincts taking over. 
It hurts so fucking good. The ache is amplified yet dissipates with each motion of his palms. “Yeah, harder. Don’t stop,” you plead desperately. 
Joel swallows thickly and increases pressure again. “Like this?”
“Just like that, Joel. So good,”
God, how sinful you sound. Whimpering and moaning for him, begging for more. Shit, not now. Not fucking now, he thinks as his cock begins to harden under you. “Fucking moron,” he whispers. 
“What?” 
Joel freezes. “Shit. I uh, wasn’t callin’ you a moron. Sorry,” he apologizes gruffly. “It’s me. I’m the moron.”
“Why are you a moron?”
“I’m gettin’ a bit hard. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He feels heat rise up his neck and to his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to.”
“My tits are in your hands, Joel, I get it. I don’t mind,” you assure him. You feel his cock half hard, pressing into your lower back and you shift a little. You both notice how he grows harder at your adjustment.
Joel chuckles awkwardly, trying to break the tension. “I’m only a man, hon. Can’t help it,” 
“You’re okay, Joel. I promise,” You chuckle with him, sighing and resting your head back on his chest again as he starts massaging you once more. The stubble on his jaw tickles your face, his chest rises and falls with every second. You share a moment in the silence, made slightly awkward by Joel’s arousal. You wince as another strong cramp overtakes your body, and you curl up into Joel.
“Cramps?”
“Cramps,” you mumble. “I don’t think you can massage those away, though.”
“No, probably not,” he mumbles. “Not with my hands, at least.”
“With what, then?”
Did he really just say that? You really are a fucking moron, Miller. 
“At Maria’s today, she told me a way to alleviate cramps,” he starts, speaking slowly, like he’s whispering a secret that’s not his to tell. 
“How?”
“Orgasms,” he whispers stiffly. He presses his lips together in a thin line and looks up towards the ceiling. 
“Oh,”
“I could give you some privacy if you wanted to try that out,” he mumbles. 
“Why would you do that?” you turn to look at Joel, who is bashful and looking down. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you continue, “Didn’t you just say you could make the cramps go away, just not with your hands?”
“W-well, yeah, but,” he stutters. 
“I have been so fucking horny. And you’re hard too, so,”
Joel’s eyebrow is still raised, he’s eyeing you suspiciously. “Are you askin’ what I think you’re askin’?”
“You already washed my bloody panties. I’m guessing blood isn’t an issue for you,”
“No, no. ‘Course not. You want me to fuck you?”
“Yeah, you know. For science. For the sake of experimentation,”
Joel smirks mischievously. “Nothin’ wrong with a little experimentin’,” he agrees. You smile at the twang of his Texas accent. 
You share another awkward moment, both unsure of how to continue this scientific endeavor. Joel makes the first move this time. “Come here,” he breathes, lifting you into his lap. “Kiss me.”
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, intertwining your fingers in the grey-brown curls at the base of his neck. His hands are on your waist, holding you steady with your thighs straddling his. He leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips are slightly chapped but so deliciously soft and warm against yours. He tastes like himself and nothing more, but his taste is addictive nonetheless. 
You grind your pelvis into his bulge, whimpering at the contact on your sensitive heat. You’re craving more than his kisses, needing to feel all of him. His weight on your body, his skin on yours. His member deep inside you, massaging that spot that makes your head spin. “More,” you whine. 
He hums in amusement against your lips, thrusting his hips into yours. Cheeky motherfucker. 
You swat his arm lightly. “Don’t tease, Joel. I need you,”
“I know ya do. Let’s get you warmed up then, hm?” you nod hurriedly, leaning back. Joel pulls you back in for a kiss, his hand snaking under both your sweatpants and panties. “This alright?”
“Yes, fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers dip further, gathering your wetness and circling back up to your clit. He traces slow, steady circles into your bud, taking his time with you. He pushes his middle two fingers deep inside you, fingers curling up and hitting that sweet spot. You gasp and whimper into his mouth. 
Joel loves taking his time with you. Playing with your body like a musical instrument, eliciting moans and whimpers from deep inside. Watching you dance for him, falling to pieces under his touch. 
“So pretty like this,” he praises you. 
You kiss him again and hop off his lap, he pulls his hand away from your core, quickly hiding it from your sight. He doesn’t need you feeling any shame or embarrassment of your body doing what it was meant to do. “Get a towel?” you ask him. 
“‘Course, honey,” Joel sits up and grabs a towel from the linen closet, then walks back to your room. He shuts and locks the door behind him before laying the towel down on the bed. You stand up to meet him, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling off his shirt. He does the same to you, helping you out of your sweats and shirt. You quickly sit down on the towel and he stands before you, cock rock hard, admiring all of the curves of your figure. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”
You blush and reach forward to pull him to you. “So are you,” you tell him earnestly. He steps toward you and pushes you back, getting ready to enter you. You put a hand on his chest to stop him. 
“Is everything okay?” his dark brown eyes are big and full of worry. 
“Of course,” you say. “I’m not ready yet. I wanted to taste you,” you admit.
Joel smirks.  “You’re the one bleedin’ and cryin’ in pain, and you wanna taste me?”
You smile back. “For science, right?”
“Sure, sweetheart. For science,” Joel sits next to the towel, you lean over his lap and get ready to take him into your mouth. “Ah ah ah,” he tuts, “Like this.” Sitting next to him on the towel, he instructs you to face him and spread your legs. This way, he says, he can take care of you too. 
You lean over, making sure your heat is still accessible to him. Joel leans back onto the pillows and lets you get to work, his fingers tracing up your thigh before meeting your center once more. Your lips part around his member, tracing the soft and warm skin with your tongue. You moan when his fingers enter you again, voice sending vibrations through his cock. “Fuck, honey,” he groans. 
You play with each other like that for a while, Joel working you open with his fingers and you taking him further and further down your throat. His cock twitches, engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth. 
“Stop, stop,” he begs. “Not gonna last.”
You pull off of him with a pop, and his hands leave your body. You whine at the loss. 
“I know,” he soothes. “C’mere.” Once again, you’re in his lap, hovering over his cock. It’s held loosely between his fingers, tip prodding at your entrance. “Ready?” he asks you, his sparkly brown eyes are looking up at you, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.
“I need you,” you whisper desperately. And with that, Joel notches the tip at your entrance, carefully studying your features to make sure it’s not too much, not too fast, not painful. You steady yourself on his shoulders, fingernails indenting his skin. He pulls your hips down slowly, letting you savor every inch of him. He bottoms out with a deep sigh, and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his. 
“Wait,” he interrupts. You frown with concern, and he bucks his hips up. You let out a yelp, partially in pleasure, partially in surprise. Joel pulls the towel under you both. “There.”
You giggle. “Good idea,” you whisper. You stare down at him, a slight smile on his lips. You start to roll your hips, letting your clit brush the thick tuft of dark hair at the base of his cock. You whimper at the feeling. 
“Feel good, baby?” Joel asks expectedly. 
“So good, Joel” you assure him. “You feel so good,”
Joel pulls your body down to his, letting you rest on your knees. He thrusts into you rhythmically, letting you relax against him. “Fuck, you feel nice, honey. Knew you would,”
You moan and cry, kissing and whimpering into his neck. Using your sounds and the way your body reacts to his touch, he fucks you hard, intently, but gently at the same time. It’s delicious. 
You rock your hips, bouncing on his cock to match each of his thrusts. He hits that sweet spot in you repeatedly, he can feel your walls squeezing him, hear your moans becoming quicker, more frantic. “God, you’re sensitive,” he says. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Fuck, yes,” you whimper. “M’close, need t-to come,” 
“You can let go,” he speaks softly, voice low and gravelly. “Come for me, baby,”
You lean back, lifting your hips slightly to give his fingers access to your clit. He takes the hint and begins circling your sensitive bud once more. It doesn’t take long before you’re falling apart on his cock, your cries and moans muffled as you bite into his shoulder. 
“That’s it,” he coos, fucking you through it. 
You try to take a second to catch your breath, steady yourself, only Joel has something different in mind. He doesn’t stop fucking your pussy, overworked and overstimulated. Within minutes, you’re coming again, your pussy making a beautiful crimson mess on his pelvis and fingertips. Still fucking you, he watches you come like you’re a work of art in a museum. Taking in every detail, every twitch of your face, the way your mouth drops in pleasure, how your tits bounce with each thrust. 
“Too much, Joel,” you cry. “S’too much, please.”
“You give me one more, baby. C’mon now, want you to come with me,”
“I can’t,” you pant. “I can-” 
“Yes, you can,” he encourages firmly. His voice is sweet but stern, and it is clear your pleasure is not to be negotiated. You will come again. “One more, one more. S’all you gotta do.”
“Fuck, Joel,” 
“I know, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” 
It’s almost painful, but you focus on the pleasure building once again deep inside you. You rock your hips, grinding your clit on the pads of Joel’s calloused fingertips. Right there, right there…
“You’re makin’ such a pretty mess of this cock, darlin’. Wanna fill you up, baby,”
His sweet talking sends you reeling, you love the way he praises you. “M’close again,” 
“Right there with ya, baby,” he soothes. His thrusts are frenzied, cock throbbing inside you. “Now, baby,” he commands. “Fuck, need you to come now.”
Moans and cries spill out of your mouth like liquid sugar, thick and sweet and slow. You come on Joel’s cock for a third time, your body melting into his own. He comes with you, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours to create the most beautiful sounds to fill the room. His voice is deep and desperate, sounding like pure sex as he paints your insides with rope after rope of his seed. 
You slink on top of him, focusing on catching your breath. His skin is sticky and sweaty as he holds you in a tight embrace, his heaving chest lifting you up and down. He pulls out of you, a mess of your fluids dripping onto the towel. You curl up next to him, your head on his chest.
“Cramps?” he asks. 
You shake your head. “All better,” you pause, then speak. “But hold me some more? Please?”
“‘Course, honey. For science, right?”
You smirk. “For science,”
You lay like that for what feels like hours, Joel stroking your back tenderly. One of his strong arms wrapped around your body, his warm hand pressing into your back. His other hand is holding your own, fingers squeezing you comfortingly, thumb tracing back and forth. He presses soft kisses to your forehead, your lips. He’s loving you gently, sweetly, the way you so deserve.
tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl
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ohimsummer · 5 months
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BEG FOR IT ft. BULLY! SATOSUGU
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— minors dni, bully! satosugu x female! reader, feisty idk, dubcon, groping, nipple play, nipple stimulation, biting/marking, a hint of choking, teasing
wc 1.9k
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You’ve heard the name Satoru Gojo whispered among males and females alike on campus. How he’s good looking and charming and oh-so skilled at everything. You think his greatest skill might be getting on the nerves of people who want nothing to do with him.
This isn’t the first time you’ve gotten into an altercation with Gojo. It seems he seeks you out for the sole purpose of one; to pin your wrists above your head and lean in close to tease, and suffocate you with his loud cologne that you’ll never admit smells delectable on him. The way this song and dance usually goes is he spots you, taunts you, wrestles you against a wall until he deems your squirming and whining “too annoying”, and then he leaves you with a “See ya later, princess!”. You don’t know why today suddenly warrants different results.
“Let go of me, Gojo.”, you deadpan at him, icy stare meeting his own. You don’t find this manhandling of you funny, you never do, and you hate the way Gojo laughs about it like your dismay is just hilarious to him.
“Make me.”, he chuckles in your face.
Fuck him. You twist against his hold again, and Gojo has to give you credit for actually managing to free a hand. Though it’s about all you’ll manage. He’s too big and too heavy for you to force proximity — it’s like throwing yourself at a brick wall. Doesn’t mean you can’t try.
“Aw, how cute.,” Gojo snickers at your attempt to push him away by the throat, grabbing your wrist and holding it away from him. “Try a little harder for me, yeah?” And he bats those stupid, long eyelashes at you.
You sigh in exasperation and squirm some more. You stamp at his foot, and he moves them at the last minute every time. You push against him to at least get away from the wall, but it’s all to no avail. He’s got you trapped here and there seems to be nothing you can do about it.
“Give up?,” he asks at your deflation.
His taunt springs you back to life, and your cheeks puff out in an angry pout. “Let go of me, I said!”
“Make me, I said.”
And if it wasn’t for your hands being restrained, you’d claw him right in his annoyingly pretty face.
You wriggle again. “You’re such an asshole. Don’t you have anything better to do with your spare time besides harass innocent girls?”
Gojo maneuvers your wrists into one hand just so he can tap at his chin. “Better than this? Don’t think so, gorgeous.” He leans forward to whisper into your ear. “And I’m not harassing innocent girls, I’m harassing you-“
“Get off me!” Your writhing and thrashing cuts off the end of his sentence, and Gojo bursts with laughter at your futile struggles.
“Oh? Who’s that?”
Both of you turn to the sound of the familiar voice. You sigh an obvious, angry breath at the arrival of another annoying man, Suguru Geto. Of all the people who could have come across you two, it had to be someone else to get on your nerves.
“My little plaything.,” Gojo answers. “Cute, isn’t she?“
Geto comes to stand next to his best friend, and something twitches in the pit of your stomach. Aggravation, yes, but something else telling you to hurry and get out of there.
You glare at the two men who steadily eye your constrained form. The look in their eyes harbors anything but good intentions.
Geto starts. “She-“
“Are you two gonna hold me here all day or….?” You have a feeling their spiteful answer is closer to yes, so since you figure they’ll keep you here, might as well be as annoying to them as they are to you.
“Such a pretty face.” You turn away as Geto thumbs at your glossy lips. “Shame you’re so rude.”
“Oh, excuse me for not being so polite to my captors.” They laugh at the scowl on your face, and you find yourself shrinking away from their salacious leering.
Geto tilts his head, and you notice his lingering gaze on your chest. “I just got here, I’m not the one keeping you in these halls.”
“Well, you’re surely not helping.”
Gojo chimes in. “You don’t wanna spend time with us, Y/-“
His grip loosened for just a second, guard let down because Geto’s around, and you take full advantage of it. You yank your wrists away from his grasp, bolting between them and heading for the nearest door to the outside. You can see it clearly, your escape: white double doors with warm sunlight flooding in through the window, a lit up path to your savior, the outside. Your fingers are grazing that first streak of sunshine, the heat of it kisses your fingertips-
There’s a jerk of your wrist, and your salvation is stripped away as fast as it came. You feel a firm heat against your back, and the view of the doors is blocked by Geto’s tall frame. Bright beams of sunlight flow around his body, giving him such a dramatic lighting. Like he’s a god or something. You have to laugh, if not for the irony then for your own sanity because your escape attempt has been so quickly thwarted.
Gojo’s hefty, patronizing laugh sounds out in your eardrum. “And where did you think you were going, hm?”
You’re so pissed off you can’t even hear their cruel mockery. Hands now pinned behind your back, all you can do is hang your head in frustration and curse them in your mind, and God knows you’re cursing the absolute hell out of them. Gojo and Geto and their stupid laugh, their stupid faces, their stupid, stupid need to always be bothering you.
Caught up in your own scornful thoughts, you don’t hear when they address you.
“Think we broke her?,” Gojo asks.
Geto hums, chuckles. “Maybe.” He steps a little closer to you and Gojo. “Let’s see.”
His larger hands hover over your sides, rising until they near your chest. Gojo eagerly studies his movements over your shoulder, watches in anticipation as his friend’s hands come to rest on your breasts.
The groping of your boobs brings you back to reality, and you snap your gaze to the dark haired man in front of you. “H-hey, wait a second-!”
Geto doesn’t stop, only begins slowly massaging your tits as Gojo speaks. “Oh? Back with us, princess?”
You’re incredulous at the absolute gall they have to treat you this way. “Stop that!”
Narrow, dark eyes meet your own, wide and brimming with newfound anxiety. Geto ignores your demands, and his thumbs move to press over your nipples through the two layers of your shirt and bra. It feels so teasing, and the ministrations are causing a wetness between your legs, but you’d never let these two see this is turning you on.
You wiggle and pull away from Geto, but that only presses you further into Gojo’s body. It’s a lose-lose situation. Geto sees the realization in your eyes.
“Gonna behave for me?,” he murmurs as his fingers dip beneath your shirt.
“St-stop—!”, you try and command him with even an ounce of authority, but it comes out as a feeble whimper.
Gojo uses one hand to keep your wrists bound, and the other latches onto your throat. He directs your wavering glare towards him, presses his lips to your cheek as he continues to taunt you.
“We’ll let you go if you beg…”, he offers.
And your immediate answer is of course no, you’d rather eat shit and die. “I most certainly will not! Let go of me!”
Geto pulls your shirt above the swell of your breasts, exposing a lacey, pink bra. He comments ‘cute’, and you barely register it since you’re too busy struggling to turn your head against Gojo’s tight grip. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and while you’re reeling with what you hope is disgust, you feel the tightness of your bra loosen and the undergarment falls to the floor.
“Look at that.”, Gojo halts his teasing assault on you for a second to take a good look at your exposed tits. “So selfish hiding all this from us.”
“I’m not-!,” A squeak interrupts your statement as Geto runs a tongue over one nipple. Your thighs clench on instinct, and the look they share tells you they both noticed.
“I’m not!”, you finish your sentence. You don’t even know what else to say after that.
“Y’know…”, Geto mutters in between harsh suckles of your hardening nipples. “Perhaps if you weren’t so weak, you could’ve been out of this by now...”
The sheer audacity for him to even utter such a phrase has you struggling once again. “Weak? It’s taking two of you just to keep me here!”
Gojo promptly quips, “Only one of us is holding you, sweetheart.”
You aim to crush his toes beneath your shoes, only to be met with the floor when Gojo once again dodges your attack. Your lack of a proper comeback might as well be the funniest joke on earth the way he laughs in your ear about it. Not like it’s your fault, how are you supposed to focus with Geto swirling your nipples on his tongue and pinching them between thick fingers, and Gojo biting and sucking rough marks along your neck? You’re fighting back moans and trying to find the strength just to stay upright. If that wasn’t enough, you’re also juggling the fact that your panties are soaked straight through and, if you don’t leave soon, they’ll notice the discoloration dripping down your stockings.
Gojo gives your throat a squeeze, and smirks as you rasp in a breath.
“All you gotta do is beg for it.”, he quietly sings against your earlobe.
Pride be damned, you needed to get away before they used your arousal as another excuse to keep you around any longer. And to escape straight to your dorm for a little private time because just the way Geto was playing with you was gonna have your pussy leaking everywhere. You would not, could not afford to let them see you like that. You’d never hear the end of it.
Gojo’s hand leaves your throat and you let out a sigh. But your relief is short-lived as you feel his touch edge closer to your backside.
You’ve never made a decision faster. “Please let go of me.”
For a split second, it’s like time has stopped. Geto pulls away from your hardened nipples with a loud ‘pop’, Gojo’s hand stills on the curve of your ass. Both men look at you with matching grins, like they just won a Nobel prize.
Geto speaks first. “What was that?”
And Gojo right after. “Yeah, repeat it again?”
Your brows furrow and your gaze falls directly to the floor. “Pl…please let go of me.”
The grip on your wrists loosens instantly, and you snatch away from them both. You tug your shirt down to cover your breasts, and wrap both arms around yourself.
“See, now was that so hard?”, Gojo laughs after you who’s already heading out the door, yelling a shaky ‘fuck you guys!’ as it drifts shut behind you.
You walk back to your dorm on wobbly legs, erect buds poking through your wrinkled top. Finally able to flop down in the comfort of your bed, you realize you never picked your bra up off the floor.
No worries. It’s perfectly safe in their hands.
(aftermath)
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007reid · 6 months
Note
hi aine! i love how you write spencer sooo much so i have a short request
i would looove sub/virgin spence where he’s been touch starved so he’s really sensitive and whiny but reader praises him and guides him through it
-🌹
hi rose 🌹 for one of my favorite asks ive ever gotten, i did a horrible job on this one so im so sorry ml 💔and sorry for the wait too...hope this is somewhat worth it😭enjoooyy!!
virgin. spencer reid
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pairing: sub virgin!spencer reid x experienced fem!reader. 1k
summary: exactly what the req says
warnings: whining, loss of virginity, riding, creampie, nun too extravagant. yu like the picture?😏😏
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"y/n...y/n!" spencer's crying, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but he's moaning, humming his whines into your neck.
"easy, baby boy," you croon, slipping out of him and slowly lowering yourself on his cock again. spencer's pawing at you desperately, like he's never felt such a thing before.
it's because he hasn't. it’s exciting, being in a relationship with spencer; it’s exciting touching him and seeing him jump or freeze and then melt into your touch. he’s pristine, like a shiny trophy, untouched—touch starved and so unfamiliar to the idea of physical touch or intimacy.
"'s too much," he whimpers pathetically, voice halfway stuck in his throat. "can't, can't--"
"relax, spence," you murmur, pushing back the pieces of hair, damp with sweat from his face. spencer's eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed like he's in pain or he's deep thought. you're not to sure which one. your hips continue snapping into his. "look at me baby." it takes a while, but spencer slowly peels his eyes open. they're glossy and his eyelashes are wet, and you're listening out for the word from him to stop but it never comes.
"y/n--" he gasps, right as your pussy clenches tightly around him. his eyes close again. spencer's breathing heavily, little hng, hng, hng's falling out his puffy lips. the sloppy sound of skin slapping against skin and spencer's whines and your quiet moans and the smell of sex clouds the room.
"you're okay," you reassure him, voice shaky trying to soothe spencer's nerves while trying to soothe your own. spencer's big and he practically splits you in half, the tip hitting the little button inside you that makes you want to scream without any maneuvering. he's not even trying, propped up against the bedpost as you ride him, hands pliant at your hips, the little slick of your wetness every time you lift yourself from him absolutely filthy. you lift his chin and he falls forward, planting a miss-aimed kiss at your jaw.
"you feel so good," he bambles. "so warm. i love you. feels so good but so much y/n, i--" he moans, cock pulsating inside you. his thumb flicks at your perky nipples.
"'m so full of you," you say, burying your face in his hair and wrapping your arms around him, trying to get as close as possible. "fuck. make me feel so good. my best boy,"
"best boy," spencer repeats eagerly with a soft little hitch of his voice. the tears resume. "y/n i can't it hurts, stomach hurts y/n please--"
you immediately know what he meant, and fasten your pace, hands on the base of his cock to make sure he won't slip out of you. spencer slides into you easily, your pussy stretched and wet for him and his fingers dig deep into both sides of your waist. spencer's moans cease and his hips starts bucking up to you, arms wrapping around your torso and he wouldn't stop talking. "gonna, think im gonna cum, yn please dont stop it feels so good, fuck!"
"cum in me," you coo, feeling that familiar buzz at the pit of your stomach too. "you got it. cum in me spence, so good for me, such a good boy,"
spencer's sobbing as he cums, warmness blooming at your core as he unloads his cum inside you. you follow suit, pressing at the sensitive nerves bundles at your clit, thighs shaking from the weight of your orgasm. spencer's shaking too, tears shiny on his rosy cheeks and you ride the both of you off your orgasms, the sweat on your skin cooling.
spencer's cum leaks outside the puffy walls of your pussy and down your ass when you pull off of him, pressing yourself at spencer's side and curling your body towards him. his chest is rising and his lips are parted. you watch your boy carefully, how his eyelids starts drooping as his breathing mellowed out. you should've saw it coming that spencer reid is the kind of man to get sleepy after sex.
but you've known him for long enough to know that spencer's mind never stops running, not when he's sleepy, not when he's asleep, not ever. "penny for your thoughts?"
he turn to you, smile debauched and eyes like marbles. he throws the sheets over the both of you and find your hand underneath the blanket, bringing it to his lips. "'m so grateful for you yn," he whispers like he's telling a secret. you strain your ear to listen. "so grateful. luckiest man alive. i love you. love you," spencer takes a long blink, and you know he's drifting off. you smile widely, so endeared. he weaves your fingers together. "i'll make it up to you. swear. after this. i swear."
spencer never speaks in choppy sentences, never speaks unless he's got the entire sentence planned out in his head and now he's babbling on like someone whose speech he would correct. amused, you reach out, smoothing down his hair with gentle fingers. "sleep, spencer," you say affectionately. he never needs to be told twice either, apparently, because his eyes flutter shut and he's out like a light, but fingers still tightly intertwined in yours underneath your blanket.
you'll just have to wash the sheets tomorrow.
2K notes · View notes
14thgalerie · 7 months
Text
you know other women?
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• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: my kind of woman by mac demarco / sad girl by lana del rey
• word count: 1.2k
• genre: smut (suggestive)
— not proofread again. i just wanted to write a short one because i haven't been in the mood to write anything and it feels shitty. also this is the last time i'm writing something like this, i just wanted to try it out. took the idea from this request!
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“You’re the most jealous woman I know!”
There was silence for a moment. Your thumb and pointer finger slipped under his chin and grasped it gently, making him look up at you from his seated position. Your stormy eyes were a bit darker than normal. His heart skipped a beat at the close proximity you were in now. 
“You know other women?”
Theo didn’t utter a word, his silence speaking volumes, proven more by the tremble in his lower lip. 
“Theodore.”
He pulls back from your touch. Eyes fixated on the intricate natural curves of the grains of the wooden floor. Tracing every line. Ignoring the pulsing beat that hammers against his chest. He does this for what internally felt like hours that they didn’t even look like lines anymore. It looked like something else, indecipherable.
“I am talking to you and if you don’t look at me for another second longer…” Your voice trails off in a terrifying tone that makes his head tilt up in less than a millisecond.
“Answer me.”
“Well…of course I know them, but that doesn’t mean I talk to them, you know?” The twitch in his speech is noticeable even by the breeze that passes through the open window. The unbothered, amused tone that he tried to emulate is useless as you remain standing there unimpressed.
Still, and locked in on him like he was a prey. Almost daring him to make another slip of the tongue. 
His mouth hangs open while he flounders in his position, his brain wracking for anything to save him from whatever it is you seem to be planning in your mind.  
“Y/N. Darling. You do know that, right? Just like how you’re the only woman that I even let near me?” 
Compared to earlier, he finds a sense of confidence to look you directly in the eyes. When you make no move to recognise this, he takes it as a sign to continue.
“And I was only playing with you earlier. It didn’t mean anything other than a simple teasing to get you riled up. It was just in the heat of the moment.” He said tremulously. Well aware that he looked and sounded like a mess, spilling whatever his mind could conjure up.
Not a part of him could pinpoint exactly what it was you were thinking, but one thing he knew was that he wouldn’t be spared. But frankly? He couldn’t help but feel a sense of nervous excitement coursing through him.
A tiny voice inside his head inviting him to keep on with the constant rambling that surely worsened his sentence. 
Deep in his thoughts as he tries to expel them, he doesn’t notice how you have come closer, now standing a mere arm’s length away from him. 
“You are mine only. It’ll do you well to remember that.”
The only response his body allows him is a timid nod as you press your thumb on his lower lip, pulling it down. They make a path of tingles as it travels along the sharp features of his face drawing out a whimper from him. 
His breath catches in his throat as your hands tighten around the velvety strands of his chocolate-brown hair, tugging it until he is forced to meet your gaze.
“Your touch, your gaze, they are mine. Only I will hear the way you pathetically beg.”
Nothing more is said as you lean down and, surprisingly, gently press your lips to his. The familiar pair that he has craved since it last touched his hours ago. He ignores the slightly cracked skin; dry from the screaming match you’ve been at for a while.
It was slow. Passionate. Desperate. It fueled a fire deep within the pit of his stomach, travelling downwards.
His hands are wild and rough as they grapple at whatever part of you they can touch; your hips being its choice. But despite this amusing attempt to regain control of the situation, he remains vulnerable to your touch. 
When you pull away from him, unknowingly, he follows your movement, chasing after that addicting warmth. One that you generously gave as you moved to leave a path of open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. 
You don’t pause in your actions as you move your legs to sit on either side of him, his hands mindlessly moving along your lower back to secure you in his lap. Something that sends tingles straight to your core.
His insides were burning him from the inside out, flames consuming him. Intensified as you move towards a sensitive spot, rendering him into a groaning mess under you.
“You wanted this didn’t you?” You taunt playfully, a sly smirk forming in the corner of your mouth. “Tried to provoke me to give you attention?”
To which he tries to deny with meaningless words as his body contradicts them. Thrusting upwards to meet your cruel torment. To feel a sliver of relief in his tightening trousers. His hands, which moved to your hips sometime between your teasing, helped guide you in the back-and-forth motion against his groin. 
“Look at you.” You whisper against his ear, biting his earlobes lightly. Tracing your fingers along his chest, drawing lines and curves. “Can other women have you writhing like a deprived man also? I’d be so delighted to see if they can even come close.”
He stares at you as you draw back with wide, unblinking eyes, and a slackened jaw as heavy exhales pass through his ajar lips. “No.”
“I don’t care for them, I just want you, please.”
Forgetting all sense aside, leaving it for future him to figure out, his lips found yours again. Tongue delving to explore the hollow of your mouth, while his hands continue to move you just to feel that fire blooming in his core finally be released. It seemed that maybe you were gracious enough to let him do it, despite the obvious act of disobedience that you punished him for.
The moans that were like music to your ears were pathetic enough for you. Getting louder that he had to push his head against your chest to muffle the sounds that others outside must have heard already. You run your fingers through his hair, something that always pushed him off the brink of his high. 
In his desperation, he never forgets about you and draws his dominant hand between your bodies straight towards your clothes core before you roughly grasp his wrist and toss it aside.
“No touching.” You warn. “But-“
“You don’t deserve to.” You curtly retort. It was pathetic, the way that his hand itched to disobey you but he knew that he was pushing the boundaries too far already.
“Just as you deserve this.” You declare, his eyes widen in bewilderment as the weight on his lap is lifted, leaving him with only the pitiful feeling of emptiness. “What-”
You remain silent, casually strolling towards the locked door, indifferent to his wide-eyed desperation and his fumbling hands that seem to forget what it’s supposed to do. The a slight tremor in his voice as he calls for you.
“See you at dinner.”
“You can’t just leave me here, love, please.” He says, a hint of desperation at the end. 
“You don’t make the calls, Theo.” You say, unwavering, while he sits there helplessly. You weren’t going to give him a punishment that he would like, no.
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masterlist
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love-bitesx · 11 months
Text
: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader
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summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!
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“is it home-time already, darlin’?”
there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.
“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.
“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.
“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.
it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;
“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”
his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.
laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.
he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.
it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.
you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~
“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.
“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.
“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”
“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.
“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.
“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.
you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.
his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.
deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.
“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.
“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.
a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.
“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.
“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.
“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.
“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.
hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.
it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.
when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.
after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.
“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.
stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.
shit.
you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?
grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.
“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.
“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.
wait, above?
craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.
“spider-man?”
and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.
“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”
“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”
“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.
“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.
“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.
“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.
“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”
“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”
ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.
“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”
his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.
he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.
“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”
“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”
“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.
his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.
“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.
“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.
“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.
you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.
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“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.
“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.
“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”
the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.
“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”
“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.
he always did hate consistency, anyway.
“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.
“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.
“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.
“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.
“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.
turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.
it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.
he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.
but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.
he was fucked. well and truly.
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“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.
“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”
your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.
stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.
“what’s up?” you questioned.
“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.
you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.
“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”
it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.
“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.
“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.
untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.
“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”
and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?
shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.
insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.
“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.
gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.
“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.
“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.
“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”
he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.
“are you o—“
“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.
it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.
without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.
your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.
“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.
embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.
he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.
his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.
pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.
“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”
you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.
“like, a lot.”
he kissed you again. and again.
a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Pussydrunk!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Cockdrunk!Fem!Reader
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Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other. From this ask here.
Word Count: 5.4 k
Warnings:
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The moment those heavy boots hit the threshold of the apartment, brown eyes are searching for you as Simon’s heart pounds in his ears the same as it had the entire drive over. He’s been gnawing at the bit since even before he returned to base a day ago, aching to get back to the gorgeous being living in his flat. The last month of his deployment he’s been on edge, counting down the days in agonizing fashion as the craving growing in the pit of his stomach gets worse and worse. Fuck, he’s missing you - all of you - something fierce. 
Simon has missed those sweet moans of yours, the way you make his name sound so perfect through the stuttered gasps as you reach that level of incoherence that renders you completely useless; he has missed all the ways your body moves against and underneath him, writhing and back arching as his larger form overwhelms you; he has missed the way you fuck him, body begging for more even as you struggle to fit him all in and how beautiful it is to be inside you. 
It is enough to drive the man insane.
From the bedroom you can hear the door opening and closing and rush to the living room as quick as your legs can move, carried by giddy nerves to see your lover again after so long. You knew he was meant to be in today, but not the time and so you’ve been on edge waiting and listening; as soon as you see him a deepening ache situates itself in your chest. 
Simon clocks you as you come into the living room and he can’t find enough air to fill his lungs; by the way your cheeks instantly glow with warmth and your eyes sparkle he’s sure you are feeling the same tension fill the air around you the moment you two are in sight of one another. You are the one to close the distance as Simon’s limbs feel too heavy to move at first, blood being drawn to other places along his body that need it more now that he is near to the object of his desire. 
“Hey there stranger,” you smile up into those familiar balaclava- clad features as your heartbeat steadily becomes more erratic from your body flooding with that desperate longing to be against him once again. It is always the same: when you two are apart for long periods when he has to be away the moment you are in front of one another again it is like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. “Long time no see.” 
He stares back down at you, light chocolate eyes taking in the face he hasn’t seen properly in too damn long. “Well ‘ello there yerself, pretty girl,” he returns, gravely tone sending chills down your spine as he drops the gear on his shoulder to the floor so that he has free range of motion to cup his calloused hand along your soft, delicate cheek. “It’s been a hot fuckin’ minute. Did ya miss me, luv?”
Before his brain can register what’s happening he senses something brush up against him in the small space still between your bodies and as his eyes travel down he sees that your hand is grabbing at his belt buckle, silky digits lacing themselves around the metal clasp. His eyes jump back up to yours instantly.
You aren’t wasting any time, are you? Fucking hell.
“Missed you a whole fucking lot, Simon,” you say under your breath as you give his belt a firm tug forward so that he has to take a step into you. Your thighs are already being rubbed together where you stand; it’s instant the way he can turn you on just by his presence alone. “Didn’t know when you’d be in; been waiting as patiently as I could, but I gotta say it hasn’t been easy. Got my nerves all flustered. How about you? Are you flustered, baby?”
You just have to do it, don’t you? That one damned gesture that always sends him reeling.
It isn’t a secret how the time apart makes him pine for you as if he is a man dying of thirst: for those hot, breathless moments spent between your thighs, for the way your bodies seem created only for the other, for the intense sensations of euphoria that only you can give him. So when your fingers hook into his belt to pull him in closer, you know what effect it will have on making him crumble, don’t you? 
Eight months is far too fucking long not to have any piece of you and any little touch would have done the trick to do him in, but you know the exact combination that will have him throwing you on your back in a heartbeat. He is a man starved of his addiction and it’s about goddamn time he had another hit. As you tug at the leather with a smirk across your lips, doe-eyed stare not so innocent anymore, all that yearning that had been bubbling right under the calm surface of those autumn-colored eyes for eight long, agonizing months explodes with force. 
No words, not a goddamn sound as that skull mask is ripped up off of Simon’s face in a flash quicker than your eyes can catch. Your body is moved by two strong arms more than capable of manhandling those curves with ease and find yourself slammed into the wall while he clasps your chin securely in his grip so that hungry lips can scramble to aggressively capture your own. While your lips dance, his free hand roams up under your clothes to grab ahold of any piece of available flesh as all that pent up desire surges through his veins like liquid fire. His fingertips tremble as they brush across all that soft, balmy skin along your abdomen and around your hips, making him produce a guttural moan into your open mouth that you are forced to swallow down. 
That huge, hulking body of his with its prominent muscles bulging everywhere even through his clothing overwhelms your own as he pins you harder against the wall while his grip descends to around your ass so that he can bring your hips forward, clothed pelvis rutting into you to catch any extra bit of friction he can as that tenting at the crotch of his pants swells the longer he grinds against you. His mouth is insatiable, stealing sloppy, frantic kisses one after another until your lips burn from the abrasion… and yet you still aren’t satisfied. 
Simon feels your nipples through your t-shirt stiffening as his chest rubs against them, a reminder to his numbing brain that there is even more of a feast for him waiting just beneath your clothes if he can just get them off you; the couple of nudes he keeps in his phone that you send him while he’s away are only a pale comparison to the real fucking thing and he’s been dying see it in person.
You’re close to one another, but not fucking close enough. 
He needs skin on skin, curves molded into curves, cock buried in you deep. That’s the crux of it all - he needs to be reminded of what you feel like wrapped around him, lose his mind as your cunt gives him the sensation he can get nowhere else from no one else. It consumes him in that moment until his thoughts are filled with nothing but the oncoming ecstasy that will soon be his. 
Feverish fingers slip themselves into the waistband at the back of your pants as he continues to rut against you, the few layers of fabric between you about to be reduced as he shoves down taking your pants over the arch of your ass until they fall around your ankles and you can step out of them. Your own fingers are already undoing the buckle of his belt before your clothes can hit the floor; thank fuck that Simon likes to keep his wardrobe uncomplicated when on leave. 
“Christ, I’m so fuckin’ hard for ya, sweetheart,” he breathes the heated, desperate words against your raw lips as hips continue to grind on you and make your work that much more difficult, “it’s been hell being away for so long. I’ve been fuckin’ starved, baby. That sweet little pussy of yours is callin’ my fuckin’ name. I need it, I need ya…fuckin’ can’t wait another goddamn second.” 
The muscles along his abdomen tense through his shirt as you brush against them until finally his belt comes loose and you can move onto the button securing his pants. You finish undoing everything just in time for him to tear that fucking shirt clean off your top half before doing exactly the same to his own. 
The middle of his chest is flushed pink and hastily you lean in to press your lips to it, through the tingle against your mouth from tiny hairs brushing over the delicate skin you can feel he is so warm it’s like he’s heated from the inside out. That broad chest heaves up and down heavily with the weight of his lust-filled breaths as you dot tender pecks along the center before he can’t take anymore and picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and hurriedly drags you off to the bedroom hungry and ready to indulge.  
“That’s it,” Simon says in that brash tone that lets you know he’s reached his limit. “Can’t take this ache ‘nother goddamn second. You and that sweet thing between your legs are mine now.”  
He’s able to make it across the apartment in no time and throws open the bedroom door so that it hits the wall behind it with a booming thud as he stalks to the bed and sets you down on the surface, making sure to remove the pants hanging loosely around his hips as quick as he can along with his boxers. The moment he’s free of the clothing binding him that thick, meaty appendage springs to life, bobbing at attention as the vein along it pulses, and your breath hitches as your eyes are drawn to it; he’s not the only one who’s hungry and its been a hot fucking minute since you’ve laid eyes on all he has to offer.
You barely have time to scramble up towards the pillows at the head of the bed before he is crawling up towards you, a predator’s gaze making his iris’ flash and sparkle with an internal fire in the scant bit of light from the bedside lamp that illuminates the room. 
Simon’s shoulder muscles tense as he moves on all fours until he’s over you, his cock dangling down as he gets between your legs so that it drags over the petals of your pussy. You can feel it throb as it becomes even more engorged with blood at the stimulation and it makes your mouth salivate. A strained grunt echoes through his closed lips as the tip grazes over that silky, heated skin between your thighs; he’s already vibrating with pleasure… what the fuck is gonna happen when he gets inside?
Only one way to find out…
Simon pulls your legs up high around his waist, wide torso keeping you nice and spread for him. You claw at his shoulder blades with your nails as you shove your hips into him, body practically begging for him to get inside already. Screw any foreplay, you can’t afford to wait and let this frantic moment slip by. There is only one thing you want in you and it is already throbbing at its destination. 
“Fuck, please Simon, just get inside me,” your plea sends a shiver down his spine. “I don’t want to fucking wait…waited long enough.”
Spitting into his hand he applies the moisture to your entrance, lubricating the opening with hard presses of his fingertips along your cunt to help get things moving in the right direction. “Been a while, baby,” he returns as he aligns the tip and presses it against you while trying not to fall apart at the seams, “ya sure ya can still fuckin’ take it all?”
You nod aggressively, the need to be filled out by him overwhelming your every sense. You’ve waited patiently all this time, chomping at the bit for him to get back to you and now that he is here between your legs it’s all you can think about. “Give it to me,” you demand. “I need it baby, please, I’m aching something terrible. I need to feel you inside me again.”
How could he ever deny a request like that from you? 
The world falls away as the tip slips through the threshold of your body and inside and he has to stop as just the head alone stretching you wide sends him spiraling. Your back arches off of the bed as you squirm under him, mouth falling open with half-formed moans that get caught in the back of your throat as the tight space is beginning to fill. Simon shudders with ecstasy, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth to bite down in hopes that the sharp pain will force him to stay sane.  
Another thrust shoves him in a bit more so that now he’s more than halfway there, but still has just a bit to go. Your body doesn’t stand a chance as you lay under him at his mercy. His fingernails graze your waist as his hands hold on tight; he has to fit it in, get to the base, completely surround himself within you. Taking a deep breath he gathers another burst of energy to thrust all the way until he bottoms out and you release a cry into the silence of the room. 
“Goddamn ya feel so fuckin’ good princess, like a goddamn dream,” he gasps out as his head snaps down against your chest. “Pretty girl, my pretty fuckin’ girl, wanna keep ya fuckin’ full ‘a me all the time.”
Simon’s brain is quickly becoming mush as the warmness and growing wetness of your pussy makes his large form quiver at the bliss. You are no better, sanity slipping away as his hefty cock practically molds your walls to his specific shape as it rests inside. Hips begin to rock and are immediately punctuated by a deep-throated groan with each snap as he settles into a steady rhythm.   
Thrust after thrust each one harder than the last pushes your body until it is shoved up and your head hits the wall behind the bed. Simon’s nose nuzzles into your neck as feeble whimpers leave the confines of your mouth and pack his head full. “Missed your sounds too,” he says, amidst another thrust. “Keep this up and it’s gonna be my fuckin’ end, sweetheart.” Another strong thrust follows and then another.  
A yearning need to see himself fuck your gorgeous body suddenly engulfs his mind and so he slow sits himself up on his knees, making sure to keep himself inside you, so that he can get the perfect birdseye view of the beautiful way your body takes him in. It’s perfection and he cannot help but become absorbed in watching as each thrust in and out makes his cock disappear inside that narrow passage only to slip back out covered in more of your juices with each pass. 
Over and over his hips rock into you, the muscles along his abdomen clenching, fingertips digging into your sides to hold you still as his speed steadily increases the longer he goes. Your music fills his head, whimpers of pleasure as he strikes against your g-spot from the angle he’s positioned in, and that is the only thing that is floating in there now as everything else becomes a blur. 
The stoic and collected military officer is reduced to a glorious mess the longer he thrusts, drooling over you, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him all in as they flutter around his cock. It’s been too long, too many nights spent alone without your company stuck half-way across the world with only his hand to keep him occupied when he can get a free moment, which those were few and far between. But nothing, nothing ever could compare to the feeling of you.
“Can’t get enough,” he stammers with a groan, so wrapped up in the moment that speech is near impossible to produce. “Fuckin’ desperate for ya, need more…need fuckin’ more…”
Simon is deep inside you and yet that ache is still monstrous, eating him alive so that anything outside of the ecstasy of your flesh is just fucking gone. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he’s obsessed with your body. It isn’t enough though, never enough. You have completely consumed him; he is under your spell and nothing can break the charm.
His head is spinning, thoughts vacant like he is wasted; fuck, he’s high off the sensation of your pussy clenching around him. Now that he is inside you, there is no way he can leave anytime soon. There’s no goddamn way he’s going to let either of you come yet, not after how long you two have gone without each other. 
That hot coil tensing in the pit of his stomach pulls tighter and tighter, but he will not let it snap… not yet. No, he needs this to last as long as he physically can keep it up and so he knows what he has to do and with all his strength he does it; that once intense pounding slows down until he stops amongst your whimpered mewling. 
“What’re you doing?” you stutter, hips desperately trying to buck against him, but he pins them down for a bit. 
“Uh, uh,” he shakes his head, “don’t ya fuckin’ dare think you’re gonna come yet. Ya feel too fuckin’ good to let go of.”
Oh shit… You were in for it now, but just how much you could have never guessed. 
“No…no, please… I need you to keep going,” you plead as your throat strains to release the words, water rimming the whites of your eyes. That consuming ache is so deep in your bones it threatens to devour you whole, causing you to rip at the very seams as it permeates every fiber of your being until your entire form is primed like an explosive ready to combust. You can’t breathe, you can’t fucking think; everything is focused on how much the feeling of him is consuming all of you like a fire burning through dry tinder.
A shuddering breath escapes his lips; even stopping doesn’t help much, your body just feels too good and so he has to at least rut carefully against it. “I know, baby, I know,” he groans as his fingers dig into your hip to now force you to grind your clit into the base of his shaft. “But ya want this to fuckin’ last, yeah? Ya don’t wanna be done with me just yet, do ya?”
That thick, veiny appendage lay inside you, its girth stretching out the walls of your cunt to capacity as it simply rests there throbbing with the beat of his rapid heart rate, stewing in the filthy mess of juices he’s already made between your legs. You choke on a whimper as the stimulation to your clit sends a shockwave through to your toes and you clench them together, gathering some of the sheets into their grip. 
“No,” you shake your head wildly. “You just feel so fucking good, I can’t help it… feels so good… I just wanna keep feeling good with you, Simon.”
“I know, sweet girl,” he praises as he leans forward and presses his burning lips to the skin on your stomach, knowing that no matter what you would have said he wasn’t going to let you tap out yet; he needs your pussy like he needs air to survive. “It’s been too fuckin’ long since we’ve been able ta do this…need ta make up for all the lost time.” 
Simon’s dreamt about this the entire time you’ve been apart; insatiable, desperate, carnal fantasies about fucking your tight hole to within an inch of your sanity, making you come so hard that you can’t move for hours after. His cock has been throbbing for months with nothing but his fucking hand to take the edge off as he pictures filling out every inch of your hole until there is nowhere left for his cock to go.
Another couple of minutes of simply breathing, grinding, and focusing on the way the skin of your torso is so soft against his lips and he’s far enough from that ledge that he wants to start thrusting full force again. He leans down and wraps his arms around your body and you take it as a sign that he’s going to start up again, only for him to roll you both until you are the one on top now. The movement is unexpected, but you are more than willing to go along with it if it means you can take control of your own pleasure. 
As he situates himself under you, his hands roam up and down your sides while he takes a second to enjoy how you look perched over him: full tits directly in his face, hair cascading around your cheeks as you peer down into his face, eyes rolling back in your head every time a sensitive point gets stimulated. You are his fucking fantasy when you get on top. 
“I wanna have ya ride me for a bit,” he breathes. “Show me how good ya ride it, pretty girl. Make my cock your toy.”
As long as he stays inside you, you’ll do whatever the hell he wants.    
Placing your hands on his hard chest for support while his hand moves back to your hips, Simon guides you up and down until you are bouncing in rhythm to match his racing heartbeat. Harder and harder he shoves you forcefully down to get as deep into you as possible until you can feel bruises rising where his hands have a hold of you, yet that doesn’t matter at all as you can only comprehend the way his cock is rendering you too fucking dumb to think of anything else.  
Pushing down against his chest you bob up and down on your knees as best as you can, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. He told you to use him, but all you want is for him to make you his living fleshlight as you are forced to take it all. Your movements start to get sloppy after a time as you can hardly keep yourself focused anymore with how good it feels and Simon takes notice, though he is ready with the solution.
His hips start to strike up into your pussy as even though he is beneath you he is more than capable of taking control, not wanting to move into a new position just yet. You whimper and whine with your mouth hung open as each percussive hit sends shockwaves of euphoria ripping through you just like you want. This is too much for anyone to handle: you being entirely ravaged by him until you are so desperately lost in the pleasure of it all that you are in a complete state of full body bliss. 
You can only sit and take every last delectable inch that he gives you as his massive girth stretches your walls with every thrust of his pelvis upward. The room fills with the wet, sticky music of your bodies slapping against each other as he works your hole as if this is the last chance he will ever get to fuck you and he needs to make it count.
Minute after minute, his full attention being focused solely on you, each stroke along that incredibly sensitive bundle of nerves inside your core drives you increasingly closer to that razor’s edge and threatens to violently throw you off at any point without notice. He must be feeling it too, for again his thrusting slows until he is simply grinding against you once again and that building pressure falls away. 
Over and over again this happens, Simon edging you both closer and closer before struggling to back off and changing positions in a constant rotation, each position just as mind-numbing as the last now that you are cockdrunk. You find yourself on your knees with your head shoved into the mattress  and then on your side with him pressed up against your back, bouncing on top with his hand desperately cupping at your tits and then returning to where it all started on your back, all the while the constant humping during the calmer moments keeps you primed and yet just far enough off the edge that each new round keeps building towards that desperate end. 
Goddamn his stamina is something of legend, but when he wants something bad enough he will make it work no matter how hard he must push himself. And right now he cannot get enough of you no matter how he tries. 
Fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard you think you might pass out, the room so warm your hair sticks to the sides of your face, the scent of sex pungent with each ragged breath shared between your close mouths; every single sense overstimulated to the point of barely being able to process it all. You are perched on his lap with your arms wrapped around his neck, foreheads pressed together tight with eyes shut. 
Simon leans in to kiss your raw mouth, but even the contact from your lips makes him gasp from the sensitivity. Your legs are shaking violently now as he’s slowed once more, every muscle pushed to its limit as he rocks his hips into you just because it feels too good to ever stop completely. Both of you are sparkling from head to toe, coated with the speckled dew of perspiration to match the absolute mess Simon has made between your legs. 
Smooth thighs glisten with that warm, moist, natural lubrication of your cunt as it dribbles out of you and onto the sheets beneath to leave a noticeable dark spot on the bed that’s still warm to the touch. Simon’s mouth waters as the taste buds along his tongue prick to life at the sight, begging to savor all your sweet nectar, but he tells himself to not get ahead of things. 
The rest of the night you are going to be his and he will get everything he wants of it all before the end.
Just like you, Simon is out of his goddamn mind with pleasure. The sensation consumes everything inside him until there is nothing left; the only way he can communicate is through breathy groans and staggered grunts as if he is only an animal now. He craves to be the blood in your veins, the air in your lungs, the only goddamn thing you need. And that is when he knows that he cannot hold off another second. 
Without warning he pulls out of you only briefly so that he can aggressively flip you over onto your back, getting into position by kneeling in front of you as he throws your legs onto his broad, sculpted shoulders before he grips your hips and instantly re-enters you. This is it, though he can’t barely speak, it’s gonna happen whether he is ready or not so he is going to be damned sure to make it go off with a fucking bang.
Again Simon picks up his desperate pace, his abs dripping with sweat as they contract and release after each desperate thrust. Those brown eyes close off to the rest of the world, just absorbing every last second of that mind-numbing goodness that he can before he blows.
“F-fuck, Simon...mmmm…” you whine your plea as you can feel that warmth rising harshly in the pit of your stomach, “p-please… d-d-don’t stop.”
Your mind is all static, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it; it’s overwhelming in its intensity that you actually aren’t entirely sure you want to come yet. If you could just stay suspended in this moment forever, you’d die happy. All that edging has done its job just as intended though and with a few more strong thrusts of him deep in your core, that is it: like a hot flash of white light you squeal out in unsteady whimpers as your orgasm rips through you with such force you nearly bolt off the bed as your back arches and your hips buck harshly against him. 
A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he milks his cock inside you, coating your walls in his cum until he has no more left in him to give. He sounds like a wild animal and it makes your body vibrate with exhilaration; you are the one to make him come with such force he is reduced to more basic instincts. 
You fall back against the bed as your body shakes violently with the force of your orgasm. Never has such intense pleasure overwhelmed you so thoroughly that your limbs tremble uncontrollably before and though the exhaustion overtakes you, it is euphoric. Simon slowly slips himself out of your pussy as he sits back, his overstimulated cock twitching with sensitivity as he removes it from your tightness.
You whimper a little, instantly missing the feeling of him stretching you out and honestly wishing he would have just stayed inside even longer, but you know if you don’t have even a small break that you are not going to survive.
His strong hands hold your vibrating legs apart as he sits back on the mattress exhausted and a million miles away as he watches as his cum dribbles out of your pussy like honey; goddamn did he stuff you to the brim. All you can do is lay there with your eyes shut tight, heart thudding against your ribs as you focus all your remaining brain power on breathing. From your head to the tips of your toes you sparkle with perspiration as if you are decked out in diamonds that shimmer in the low light of the room.
“Christ Simon…gonna kill me,” you chuckle lightly as your mouth finally is able to do something other than hang open. 
Eyes still closed, the sensation of his lips brushing against your inner thigh catches your attention. “Not…yet,” his low, gruff voice hits your ears from between your legs, accent heavy with his fatigue. Why did that sound like a promise?
Your mouth is already forming the question when it instantly dies on your tongue as you become aware of a firm grip from those strong hands spreading your legs open even further as his body slides off the edge of the mattress and onto the floor to sit on his knees with his face at optimal level with your pussy.
“Simon?” you ask hastily as you struggle up to your elbow to see those dark eyes peer up at you just over the mound of your sex. 
The corner of his mouth is barely visible, but you can see it upturn. He may have come, but he is nowhere near finished yet. “Still fuckin’ hungry for ya,” he growls before descending down into the ecstasy of the space in between your thighs. 
Simon just needs to buy time until he can get it up again…good thing his tongue is always ready to go. Sharp features are instantly soaked as he dives in without hesitation, the scent of your arousal instantly clinging to his cheeks and making his cock begin to twitch. His mouth is filled with a combination of both of your flavors as his tongue does what it does best: find your clit like a pleasure-seeking missile. He is ready to get completely lost in you all over again, this time with his first favorite activity and all you can do is hold on as he straps you to his face.
Let the feast on your pussy continue…it’s gonna be a long fucking while until he’s done with you.
Tagging: @llelannie @thicksexxualtension @cheolsblkwife @cum-tea-and-towels @sillylittlereader @mesyakee
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awearywritersworld · 7 months
Text
"i'll always come when you call"
gojo satoru x reader summary: when you're gravely injured on a mission, your best friend finds you just in time w/c: 1.35k tags/warnings: friends to lovers, obviously reader is hurt but nothing is terribly graphic, though there are lots of mentions of blood, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, no use of y/n, lots of emotional distress for gojo, he punches a wall, ft. a very worried yuuji and gumi a/n: home boy is in pieces at the thought of losing us. i make myself emotional masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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it wasn't supposed to go like this. not hardly, not half.
a simple mission turned into an ambush. what was originally one mid-grade cursed spirit became several. you lost count somewhere around the fifth.
rain patters against your body, washing away the crimson that's seeping from numerous wounds. at first everything hurt, but now all you feel is a foreboding numbness spreading throughout your limbs.
you hardly remember slipping your phone from your pocket or dialing his number when you hear your best friend's voice ring out from the speaker. "hey, princess. how'd it go?"
you try to speak, but no sound comes out. eventually, you manage a choked cough and the faint sensation of liquid flowing from the corner of your mouth accompanies the effort.
you barely make out his worried tone calling your name before your phone clatters to the ground, screen going black as it lies in a puddle of pale red.
you fight to keep your eyes open, you really do, but you're incredibly drowsy and the coldness has begun to ebb away, replaced by a comforting warmness.
you always imagined the light that welcomes you into the afterlife would be a blinding white, but instead, it's a familiar shade of blue.
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an unsettling feeling had made a home in the pit of gojo's stomach long before he received your call. he's pacing, his eyebrows furrowed with inexplicable worry when his ringtone fills the room.
relief floods through him once he sees your name on the screen, but it's short lived when your end of the line remains quiet. he hears you sputter and it isn't a second later that he teleports to the city where your assigned mission is.
his heart is hammering away, a dull thudding in his ears, as he follows the traces of cursed energy that grow stronger with each long stride. he covers ground impressively fast, though as soon as his eyes land on your body, it's as if everything shifts to slow motion.
it feels like he's fighting against an invisible force as he approaches the spot where you lay. he can hear someone howling your name and it's not until he feels the hoarseness in throat that he recognizes the voice as his own. his knees crash painfully into the pavement at your side.
the situation is worse than he could have imagined. it's looks like you, sure, but it can't be you. not when your eyes have just fluttered shut, no movement beneath your lids. not when your body is still, no steady rise and fall of your chest. and certainly not when it looks as if you're—
"wake up," he begs, shaking your shoulders. "please, wake up!"
not wasting another moment, he gathers your limp body in his arms, one arm behind curling around your shoulders, the other hooking behind your knees.
he teleports directly into the infirmary and shoko nearly scolds him before she takes in your dreadful state. the cigarette that was hanging between her lips falls to the floor. "get her on the bed."
she moves around the room in haste, pulling drawers and cabinets open wildly.
"she's going to be okay, right? tell me that she's going to be fine," he implores, panicking when the brunette fails to reassure him. "..shoko!"
"get out, satoru!" she barks. she can't concentrate, not while one of her oldest friends is hysterical with worry and the other is lying there half dead.
"please, i can't—"
"now!"
he stares at you for a moment before turning on his heel and retreating to the hall. his fist meets the wall with such force, the drywall crumbles to the floor. gojo himself follows suit soon thereafter.
the commotion catches the attention of yuuji and megumi, who round the corner just seconds later.
"sensei—" yuuji begins to question, but the words die in his throat.
gojo's crouched down, his face buried in his hands. they're still covered in your blood. he wants to scream and yell and curse the world, but instead, he clenches his jaw so fiercely it's a wonder his teeth don't crack under the pressure.
the boys share a look, both startled by the present state of their usually frivolous teacher. neither of them need to ask who's behind that door, they know there's only one person who could elicit such a reaction from gojo.
megumi approaches him cautiously, swallowing his own concern, and places a hand on his shoulder. "she'll be okay."
the white haired man doesn't look up, just nods weakly in acknowledgement. megumi joins yuuji who is already sitting on the floor with his back pressed to the wall, and the three of them wait together in silence.
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gojo hardly moves until the infirmary door opens, which makes him rise so quickly it leaves him dizzy. shoko surveys the three of them before speaking.
"she's.. she's still unconscious, but you should be with her. she's been calling for you in her sleep—"
she scarcely finishes before gojo makes his way through the door. shoko stays in the hallway to update yuuji and megumi, giving the two of you a bit of privacy.
pulling up a chair beside you, he threads his fingers between yours, your skin still frightfully cool. though it's not until he hears you mumble his name that he truly falls apart.
his free hand flies to his mouth in an attempt to stifle his sobs, his shoulders shaking. this all could have gone very differently and the thought makes him sick to his stomach. he should have gone with you, or at the very least, he should have gotten to you faster.
"'toru?" your raspy voice fills his ears.
when he looks up to find you peering at him through tired eyes, the tension that'd been weighing heavily in his chest dissipates and he exhales deeply. still, his voice trembles. "hey, sweetheart."
every part of you aches, but it's nothing compared to the guilt you feel upon seeing gojo like this— his eyes red and swollen, your blood painted across his hands and face.
you have a vague memory of everything that happened. you remember just barely exorcising the last cursed spirit. you remember being sure you weren't going to survive and using your last bit of strength to call him. "you found me."
he nods, his hand squeezing yours. "i thought i was too late.. i.. i thought i'd lost you."
his voice cracks and it nearly shatters your heart, tears welling up in your eyes. "i'm so sorry, 'toru. i'm sorry i wasn't strong enough, t-that you had to come save me."
you attempt to sit up, but he puts a hand to your shoulder and shakes his head. "don't you dare apologize. i'll always come when you call and i'll always be there when you need me. you have to know that."
the intensity of his gaze forces you to look away and the conviction in his voice makes you feel woozy. thinking about it, there really never had been an instance in which gojo wasn't there for you. he's the person you've sought out time and time again and he's never once let you down.
his hand finds your face and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb wiping a tear from beneath your eye.
"i love you," you blurt out.
you stare at each other with wide eyes and the seconds tick by markedly until he finally whispers, "say it again."
"i love you."
he had no idea how much he needed to hear those three words fall from your lips until he nearly lost the chance forever. truthfully, it makes him feel a bit foolish, but now was hardly the time to dwell on that.
he smiles for the first time in hours, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. "i love you, too."
and he always has— he knows that now.
"you should get some rest, angel," he suggests tenderly. "i'll be right here when you wake up."
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daddyricsdoll · 2 months
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Two is better than one ✭ Lando Norris and Jude Bellingham
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Summary: It was hard to suppress your feelings for your best friend since childhood, especially if he's the Lando Norris. But then you met an alluring man who had made you question if you had loved Lando or if this was an act of lust. Soon growing a desire for both men but still questioning what to do. Until they decided to give you the answer- two is better than one.
Warnings: Threesome, masturbation, use of toys (vibrator, dildo, clit sucker), unprotected sex, anal, creampie, rough sex, double penetration, overstimulation, teasing, bondage, blindfold, oral, fingering, not breeding kink but likes to fill the reader up, nipple clamps, degrading name (slut and brat).
Word Count: 3.9k
A/N: Based off of this request. Ok so maybe the reader has some flaws, but who wouldn't when both Lando Norris and Jude Bellingham exist. Especially when they both want her! Writing this was a pleasure and honour because both my favourite things collide. So thanks anon for requesting this, and I hope you enjoy!!! Also, FOR YOUR LOVE by Måneskin is the song that probably expresses the thoughts going through both men's heads. And it's just a great song in general. And if you waited for long then you would want answers to why this took so long, so in a short answer- I nearly died. But I finished this! So Yay!!! You can enjoy now...
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“Lando, hun, good luck and be safe.” I hug him tightly, his scent filling my nose and hypnotising me once again. Forcing the butterflies to come alive in my stomach and memorise the feeling of his large hands enveloping my waist. He doesn’t let go, waiting for me to first, and if I could, I’d never let us part. But right now, he has a race to win and I’m not gonna stop him from that, I never have and never will. 
So it takes strength to part from him, but having Lando after the race is leading my hazy mind. Even if it’s not the touch I want, it’s still him even how hard I wished to suppress that thought or feeling. 
I watch him zip up his race suit, hiding his fireproof that shows me each muscle I’d wish to lay my tongue against. Balaclava now pulled over top his head, and curls hidden underneath the fabric. Lastly he puts his helmet on and fits himself into the car that will certainly give him victory. 
I rush back to the McLaren garage, saying hi to some familiar staff and trying to find a place to sit before lights out. My eyes search for my signature spot, but now occupied by an enigmatic figure. He had an aura that you would find hard to describe with one word. Holding himself with confidence, looking straight forward and not giving a care about who watched. Confidence exuding off him, but not one that reveals too much. Rectangular sunglasses covered his eyes, but his tall figure and crossed arms drew me closer. I didn’t move physically but I tried to search him with my eyes, racking my brain to find out why he made me feel this specific heat in the pit of my stomach. 
“Darling, stop looking at me like that or I’ll have to fuck you right here and record it for your boyfriend.” The sentence left his mouth like it was second nature, so smoothly and at a volume that was only for me to hear. His words made my breath hitch and I stood in shock, my core on fire but I was ready to open my legs. 
“He’s not my boyfriend.” 
“Oh even better, you’re only mine.” He takes his sunglasses off, holding it loosely between his fingers as he leans against the wall. Cheeky smirk on his lips.
“Who said I’m yours?” I take steps closer to him, trying to exude the same confidence as him. My heart beating oh so faster at the way his eyes are so intoxicating.
“I did, Darling. Something wrong?”
“You have a lot of audacity.” 
“I’ve got to, or a pretty woman like you wouldn't be talking to me.” I’m certain the blush on my cheeks became a shade darker. Even my skin rising in temperature, it makes me question how I’m still looking at him and not the ground. My mind already hazy as he made me lost for words. I couldn’t speak now, I couldn’t say the wrong thing or this could all crash down. So instead of speaking with words I used my eyes, they flickered to his lips, making mine part once I reverted back up to him. 
“You’re really trying to take up my offer.” He keeps eye contact as he speaks, looking up and down my body once he’s finished.
“Oh you can’t possibly think I’m that easy?”
He inches his face closer to mine, making me think he’ll close the gap between our lips, but instead he goes toward my ear. “So you’re telling me you’re not wet right now. That you don’t want me between your thighs. Or maybe it’s not me, maybe it’s your driver Lando.”
My breath hitches once again and the expression on my face would make you think the words he said were a forbidden curse. A curse that had me rubbing my legs together and thinking of such filthy things.
“Can’t I be wet from both of you? Imagining each thick dick sliding inside and out of me.”
Taking back some dominance, my whisper full of emotion and smoothly leaving my lips. And for the first time it’s as if his character breaks. More colour finding his cheeks, and his smirk faltering. I decide to lean further into him, my lips millimetres from touching his ear. 
“Imagine I'm riding your dick so good squeezing my tight pussy making you moan and whine the shit out of you.” I drag my lips against his ear before biting his earlobe. “All this while Lando is fucking my tight ass. I will be so full-” A moan leaving my mouth and his reaction goes straight to his dick. His large hands try to cover the bulge, somewhat achieving it.
“If you're gonna tease me, you should expect me to make those words true.” Hands coming to my hips to bring me forward, the bottom half of my body now flush against him. Feeling his hard cock press along his pants, and now me. His size, oh I couldn’t imagine. 
“How about I give you something to do when this race is finished?” He whispers to me. His offer so tempting, it would be criminal to say no to. 
“Sweetheart… let me give you something else. If you don’t want it, then you’re not gonna get an alternative.” I wait for him to nod before I continue. “I’m here for 3 more days, that’s the time you have if you want something.” Just as I take my first step away from him he speaks. 
“Give me your number, Darling.” He stretches his arm out, phone held by the tip of his fingers. I take it from him, typing out my number. “Give me your name.” I ask, learning the most basic thing about him last.
“It’s Jude, Darling. Jude Bellingham.” He takes back his phone once I’m done, winking at me before I walk away. Keeping composure and hiding the fluttering feeling in my stomach. 
Lando holding victory after the race was expected, but when he hugged Jude right after me and then spent what felt like hours with him, I could say that was not planned. 
I stood on the side and waited for Lando, usually being the centre of his attention after races, but out of all of them this one had to be different, because of one man. Annoyance grew in me, but not for the anticipated reasons. It was because they both looked so good together, and that one of them knows my desires, while the other knows everything about me except that. The heat that’s now constantly in the pit of my stomach grew. But I couldn’t keep my eyes off of them, whether my stare from the outside seemed neutral, almost as if I’ve zoned out and they were the lucky view I zoned out from, my feelings inside were far from that. 
Lust wasn’t the only feeling lurking inside of me, a pure liking toward them both danced beside it as well– fondness, but maybe infatuation would be a better suit. 
Jude’s eyes flickered to me as he conversed with Lando, a small grin on his face at the expression I displayed on mine. Now I regret my partial “no” to him. Because I desperately need something between my legs, but for now maybe playing hard to get will be on my side, well once he crumbles and ruins me like he said he would. 
I keep my eyes on both the men as they say their “byes”, Jude walking one way and Lando walking to me. My tight lipped expression turned into a grin as he pulled me into a hug. 
“Don’t think I could forget about you.” Lando says into my hair before pulling away. But he doesn’t really, his hands still on my hips even while his body isn’t pressed against mine.
“Yeah, I know.” I try to force my attention from his hands, but when they fit against me perfectly it’s so hard. 
“I heard you met Jude.” His grin now a tantalising smirk.
“Oh, really?”
“You’re not as innocent as I thought; but if you wanted me, you should’ve just asked, I would’ve given you everything.” I suddenly hear my heartbeat in my ears, skin burning hot and desire pooling in my stomach. Lando speaks as if there's no tomorrow, as if he’s the best thing I’ll ever find– and maybe he is, but that doesn’t mean I’ll show my desperation and succumb to him already. I’ve got Jude, and games to play. 
“Oh hun, you know what else can give me everything? Those toys I use while I think of you.” My words sinful and enthralling, leaving Lando standing there watching me as I walk away. I didn’t know what could’ve possibly run through his head, but I’d only hope he could still give me everything. 
Before arriving back in the hotel I had a detour to one of the shops I’m more fond of. Spending hundreds of dollars on items I may not even use, but there were a few I’d be certain to use on this solitary night. 
Once I closed the door of my room I opened my phone checking every notification as I slowly walked into the bathroom with my bag full of the products I purchased earlier. 
‘Darling, have any plans for tonight?’ The number unknown, but the first word revealing his identity he didn’t even try to hide. My eyes are stuck on my phone–his message– as I turn the bath on, filling it with water as I start undressing. Actions speak louder than words, is what they usually say. But in my case, my action is a photo. 
My nipples hard, and body drained of clothing. I stare at myself through the mirror, blinding myself from every insecurity as I lift my phone up. Capturing a photo of me and not looking at it once before sending it to both men. Immediately I turn my phone off and place it beside the sink. Opening the bag and pulling out the few things that will keep me sane for now- my clit sucker, vibrator and dildo. I look at the large bath, not filled all the way yet, so I put my things on the bath tray while I wait. Checking my phone, I see new messages from both men. 
‘What happened to the toys?’
‘Or do you want my everything now?’ 
Lando’s message cut into two, but he shows the desperation I try to hide. I don’t reply just yet, checking what Jude sent.
‘Darling, you can't just send one and leave. Show me’ 
Both men only make my need for them worse, and the toys that my eyes make contact with encourage it too. 
I ignore the tap still filling the bath as I get in, aching for a touch between my legs. My hand drawn to the vibrator as I grasp it and turn it onto its 4th setting already. I put the camera of my phone on and film myself as I drag the vibrator between my breasts, going beneath the water and becoming invisible to them.
My face being the only thing that describes and expresses what they’d wish to be watching. My legs are parted as I start teasing my clit with the vibrator, going between my folds and forcing even more arousal to coat it before the water cleans it away. I go back to playing with my clit, using it like a toy and already bringing me close to my climax. I imagine both men, laying in their rooms with their cocks between their fists, pumping it as they watch me.
Lando thinking about what my lips would feel like when they wrap around him. Jude falling into the thought of me clenching my walls around him as I ride his dick. But in this reality it’s their own fists making them explode, coming on their hands. Just as I released too for the first time in this long night. Moaning out curse words and such pornographic sounds.
I stop filming and send it to Jude and Lando, the clip answering both of their questions and demands. 
My eyes close once I turn my phone off, relaxing into the feeling of the vibrator handing me orgasm after orgasm, turning the levels up by twos and making me release even faster than the last. Each of my actions wanton as my whines filled the room and I grew addicted to the sensation against my swollen clit.
I stopped counting the times I had released once I passed four. The vibrator now became a familiar feeling, but still as good as the first time it touched me. When I opened my eyes again, the sight of the dildo and clit sucker never looked more appealing. I cursed myself for being so salacious, but it didn’t stop me from swapping my vibrator with them both. The dildo being prioritised as I slide it between my folds, trying to cover the tip in my arousal so it slides in easily. 
I push it in slowly, feeling the burn of the stretch, eliciting a moan from my plump lips. Continuing  to make small thrusts until I can fit it all in. Once it sits in me, I grab the clit sucker, whining just looking at it and wishing it was one of their mouths. I get reminded of both men, wondering how the sensation of a vibrator created a haze over both of the people who owned my mind.
Sweat trickles down my chest as it moves with each of my heavy breaths. My body anticipating the contact against my clit. Once it envelopes my slit I turn it on. Nearly pulling another orgasm from my overused clit. I think about how it would’ve felt if it were Lando or Jude’s lips on me. Bringing me back to them and what their possible replies could’ve been to my video. With my free hand I grab my phone, seeing both their messages being sent half an hour ago. It couldn’t have been that long?
‘Fuck, that’s what I wanted’ 
‘Give me more’
‘Darling, it’s been a while’
‘You want to feel my cock? Forget how to walk?’
Jude’s last message sent from minutes ago. Wanton moans, cries and whines leave my mouth as I release again, adding onto every other climax I’ve had this night. I inch closer to another, certain that that one should’ve been my last. Before I let myself release I go on Lando’s messages, somehow making me reach my climax once I read them. 
‘I know what you’re doing’
‘You’re a slut’ 
‘And I’m gonna treat you like one’
‘Once I get my hands in your pussy, I'm gonna stretch you out. And you're gonna take it like the good girl you should be’
My pussy throbs and eyes flutter reading his message. Tired from each orgasm but my core needs more. Just as I reach my hand down to grab the dildo a loud slam of the hotel door fills the room. My heart pounds and I try to cover myself, feeling even more vulnerable that the bathroom door is wide open. I knew I was helpless and my mind was blank of things to do, but then I caught a glimpse of the two men that just walked in.
Both of them walked straight toward me. “So this is where you’ve been Darling.”
“She’s not a darling. She’s a slut.” Landos eyes roam over me, a depraved smirk on his heart-shaped lips.
“You know what? You’re right.” Jude peers to the bag beside the sink, finding interest in it and pulling out each product. A set of restraints, a blindfold and nipple clamps. Jude looks over to Lando, just for them both to keep their contrast of eyes on me. 
“And now we’re gonna treat you like one.” They both move closer to me, Lando grasping me by my arms and Jude moving the bath tray to pull me up by my thighs. They both lift me and make me sit on the edge of the bath, both men cursing when they see the dildo still deep inside of me and the clit sucker barely holding on. 
“Couldn’t really hold back could ya. If I didn’t know better I’d flip you over and do exactly what I said I would when we first met.” Jude brings his face closer to me, just for his whisper to be toned with harshness. Pulling the dildo out and thrusting it back in. Making me choke on my breath and grab his shoulders for stability.
My action works to his advantage as he lifts me up and throws me onto the bed. “We would usually wait, but you’ve already started without us.” Lando walks out of the bathroom, holding everything I bought today in his large hands. Tossing everything onto the bed beside me, he leaves the box of restraints in his hands, opening it and throwing some to Jude.
I stay in my position on the bed, staring at both of them. 
“Come on slut, don’t act like you don’t know what to do.” Landos eyes ravenous, but his voice rough. It makes it hard for me to believe he was hugging me with love and sunshines just hours ago. But I listen to his words, spreading each of my limbs while they keep the dildo inside of me. As they tie me up they let the thought of my comfort out, making the restraints so tight that I couldn’t even think of moving. 
Once they finish, Lando places a blindfold over my eyes. Covering my vision and turning it to black. My other senses heightened as I waited for their next actions. I shiver at the next touch, one of them putting the nipple clamps on me. My core definitely dripping, and the fact that it’s so exposed makes another wave of arousal go through me.
“I’ve always wanted to taste you.” Landos words leave his mouth like a purr and I feel his hot breath against my pussy. Losing the dildo and clit sucker as Lando pulls them both away without a second thought. 
“And I’ve always wanted to see how your lips would look around my dick.” Jude’s voice comes from beside me. The bed lowers from weight beside my head, until I realise that it’s Jude hovering over me. Legs on either side of my head and his cock so close I was millimetres from tasting it. 
“Open up.” Jude commands and subordinately I open my mouth wide. If he had any intentions to be slow, he forgot them all. Already thrusting his dick inside of my mouth with no mercy. Lando gives me no time to think as he starts abusing my already sensitive pussy with his mouth. Pulling against the ties had no use, and every sound I’d let out would be taken from Jude. 
Lando rammed in his fingers to add along to the work of his tongue. Giving me no chance to control my breathing or even make up my own thoughts. It was shameful that I blatantly enjoyed this. Being controlled by two men as they used my body like a toy. Calling me names that I wouldn’t ever dare another man to say and fucking every thought and word out of my mouth.
The pain mixed with pleasure and pleasure brought me to my release once again. Whining out another moan as I knew my body couldn’t handle it anymore. I attempted to writhe under Jude, but Lando’s hand splayed out on my lower abdomen, trying to stop me as Jude continued fucking my face until his cum covered the inside of my mouth. 
It didn’t take a lot longer until that moment came. Jude exploded in my mouth and coating my tongue, throat and roof of my mouth with his release. 
“Gonna tease us like a brat, you’re gonna get treated like one.” Judes words could only be for me. And if I could have one wish, it would be without this blindfold. To see the man who mesmerised me with his beauty but also made me cry because of his cock– but he’ll never know.
“Swallow.” He demands of me, and just like the first time, I obey his order. Feeling his weight leave the bed beside me.
“You know what I’ve always wanted to do Jude? I’ve always wanted to fill her up and watch as my cum drips out of her.”
“Fuck. You know what I’ve always wanted? Is to feel how tight she is through anal.”
I whine out, each word of theirs so tempting but my pussy can’t take anymore. “What was that?” Lando asks me.
“I- no, please.” I struggle to find the right words, choking over myself and hoping they know it’s my end.
“I guess you know what that means Jude.” I follow Lando’s voice as it walks from one side of the room to the other. My heartbeat fills my ears until it eases when I feel my wrists becoming undone from the ties. My ankles are untied next and I don’t do anything, letting them keep dominance over everything. 
I feel Lando’s hands grab me, making me rise onto my knees and I cry out, finally connecting the dots. 
“Oh hun, if you really think you could get away that easily then you’re wrong. So come down and sit on my dick.” And how I wished to refuse, I craved it more. Listening to him as I let his hands guide me down. His dick thicker than I could’ve imagined and it stung more than the dildo, but it was a sting I was happy to get used to. More tears welling up in my eyes, making it a perfect time for Lando to force my blindfold off. 
I couldn’t rely on myself to keep a rhythm so I let Lando lead me. He only made it worse, forcing my clit to rub against him as he pushed me down. By that time, I knew my cries and pleads could never work, so I’d surrendered that, letting the only sounds to escape my lips to be moans and whines. 
My body soon became pressed against Lando’s in favour of Jude. Giving him better access as he very slowly pushed into me. Both of our voices strained as he bottomed out. Tears ran down my face from both men, and I realised how close I was to my climax.
What I had thought of being soft sex, was only a disguise. Once Jude became accustomed to me he started ruining me in a place I hadn’t been before. Lando holding my body and thrusting up into me, making the sound of skin slapping to crowd the room. 
A long moan fleeing my mouth as I released. The knot in my stomach finally exploded and I rested on Lando’s body as I indeed became their toy. Jude’s grip on my hips still growing tighter and Lando’s thrusts still had power but lost pattern. Jude along with Lando spasmed in me, making the clenching of my pussy to let them release one after the other. 
Jude quickly pulled out and released over me and Lando, soon followed by an unholy groan leaving Lando’s mouth as he released in me. Each spurt of his cum filling my helpless pussy just seconds before he pulled out and let me lay on my back. Legs parted and eyes already fluttering closed. Catching a few glimpses of Jude and Lando, achieving a few of the things they’d wanted as I feel Lando’s cum start dripping out of me. 
“Darling, maybe next time don’t start without us. You should get some rest, although I’ve always wanted to fuck someone while they sleep.”
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 2 months
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≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑳𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒔𝒔
╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : essentially pwp (without plot), fluff, softdom!xavier, needy xavier, kisses, slight dry humping, slight nipple stimulation, heavy petting, teasing, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, slow sex, kitchen sex, counter sex, dirty talk, praise, use of pet name "angel", lmk if i missed any tags!!
wc : ~3k
Sometimes, Xavier couldn't resist you at all... and who's to say you could ever resist him?
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"...Xavier?"
You felt warm hands snake over your waist, hot breath tingling the nape of your neck. You own hands, loosely holding the pan and spatula in front of you, froze in place.
"Mmm."
A hum was all you got in reply, the soft nuzzling of his nose against your neck almost making you melt.
In retrospect, he wasn't doing anything else, really. Just holding you close, seemingly savoring the warmth of being near you, occasionally swiping his thumb over the side of your waist affectionately. Soft, innocent touches, you would say—but after knowing him for as long as you have, you've quickly learned that he was quite the expert at downplaying every little thing that he did. You knew his intentions were anything but innocent, even when he tried to attempt idle conversation with you.
"What're you cooking?" he mumbled, voice low and clearly laced with lingering grogginess. The raspiness ever-present in the way he spoke brought vivid images of the night before—deeper, rich tones of his moans, his eyes closed in pleasure as he plunged his cock into you—
You cleared your throat.
"Oh, uh.... Pancakes?" you offered a feeble smile, slightly glancing to the side as he propped his chin on your shoulder.
Another hum of acknowledgement, and you immediately felt the hairs on your neck rise up.
He was getting to you. Very. Easily.
A steady breath to calm yourself down, and you shook your head. "...Did you just wake up?"
The hesitation in your voice was glaringly obvious to you, but Xavier made no indication that he'd noticed. His eyes remained curiously on the pan, watching as you poured in the batter for the aforementioned pancakes, rubbing soft, fluttering circles where his hand now rest over your clothed stomach.
And even as he let out a dismissive "Mhm, slept pretty well", even as he pulled you closer towards him, he was just so... calm. So nonchalant, so innocent, so—indifferent, almost, to the butterflies going wild in the pit of your stomach.
"It smells good, though. I like it when you cook."
He didn't notice...
...But he did notice.
You just knew he noticed.
As if to prove your point, he spoke again:
"You're wearing my shirt."
His words made you freeze.
Earlier when you'd woken up and entangled yourself from his embrace, it was your first thought to go and put on something of his. You didn't think much about it, the cold of the morning air hitting your skin without the warmth of his own, suddenly feeling a bit too exposed without his blanked draped over you. So you'd thrown on one of his t-shirts, smiling to yourself as you caught the familiar scent of his lavender-laced fabric conditioner. You felt comfortable in the way they draped over you long enough to reach halfway down your thighs, and you thought, it couldn't hurt to just wear it for a day.
It wasn't the first time you'd worn his clothes in front of him, and you didn't think he would make any comment on it...
But the fact that he did, meant that it had something to do with the way he was acting.
"O-oh, I... Um, it's the first thing I saw in your closet, I hope that's okay..."
"Mmm... But why? Didn't feel like wearing yours anymore?"
The way his words lingered in the air made it easy to catch his implications; after all, you could still remember the way they'd been strewn across the floor, painting his room in a messy scene almost as proof of your night's activities. While you'd collected them into a neat pile near his closet once you woke up, you didn't necessarily want to wear them...
"...Your clothes are comfy?"
You let out a nervous laugh, trying to distract yourself by beginning to flip the pancakes over, reminding yourself in your head just where you were and what you were doing. "I mean, you're not... mad, right?"
You didn't really think he was, but you couldn't think much at all, period.
And naturally, Xavier shifted to lean up, lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear."Not at all, angel," he whispered, and you could feel the way the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "It looks nice. You should keep this one."
His voice, so close to you, made you flush almost immediately, a wave of warmth coarsing through your body.
He was being unfair.
You huffed, a barely visible tremble in your hands as you slowly flip over the last pancake. "Xavier... You're distracting me...!" You tried to deflect his words, but the tone of your voice came out in somewhat of a whine.
You truly wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
You were playing right into his hands despite knowing this was a trap in the first place, and you thought to yourself, shame on you—your profession as a hunter barely amounted to anything once he had you in his arms like this. Because Xavier wouldn't give you a break, not like this, not in the way you would melt with such ease and he had every opportunity to just... play with you a little.
He chuckled, slipping his hands beneath the shirt you were wearing, breaching whatever tension had lingered in the air between you two. But the first touch of his fingers on your skin made you jump, only barely relaxing as they found found home on the curve of your waistline—
"Xavier!"
"Hmm...? What...?" He was mumbling against your skin again, light kisses on the side of your neck, having you instinctively tilt your head away to give him easier access. Though you wouldn't dare to look at him, you could be almost certain that his eyes had closed, even as he pressed you closer against the stove oven, your hands gripping the handle in front of you as the spatula fell with a soft clink to rest against the pan.
"X-Xavier, the food—"
You swore you could feel the smirk on his face widen.
"Why? I'm not doing anything. I'm not even stopping you."
Playing innocent, of course.
His characteristic sleepiness had yet to truly disappear in the way he spoke, but even if he might have been sleepy, he wouldn't fool you with the way he was acting. For despite his words, his hand moved lower and lower, trailing from your waist down to the plush of your thigh... You had to bite down whatever noise was on the tip of your tongue, your own eyes closing as you felt something poking against your rear.
"...Not yet," he added to his previous statement, breathing on the nape of your neck.
You could succumb.
Xavier had one hand massaging your thigh, the other lifting up your shirt just enough to expose your lower half, fabric of his sweatpants and a very present bulge rubbing slowly into the curve of your ass.
His breath shook—and just like that, whatever image of innocence he'd built up in the past few moments crumbled instantly.
"Haah—sorry, angel," he mouthed at your skin, voice exceedingly quiet, almost drowned out by the sound of his open-mouthed kisses all over you. "Are the pancakes done yet...? I really need you..."
You really, really, really could have succumbed.
And as you fumbled with your hand to switch off the stove, a small "...Yeah" falling from your lips... you did.
From there, it didn't take longer than a few seconds for Xavier to lift you up onto the counter, the chill of the marble surface hitting your skin.
"X-Xavier, we could—! T-the room is just—aah—!"
He leaned down to nuzzle his face into your chest, almost shaking his head, humming disapproval in exaggerated little mmmn's. One hand rest on the curve of your spine to hold you in place, the other still gently squeezing at your thigh in soft, rhythmic pulses. You couldn't help but lull your head back when he began mouthing at your perked nipples, peeking through the thin fabric of his shirt.
He was almost like a kitten as you watched, seemingly losing himself in the tiniest of things. His eyes moved in slow, tender blinks when he looked at you, tip of his tongue flicking wet patches against your clothed nub. The sensation of his licks had you drawing in a shaky breath—you reached out to slowly rake your fingers through his hair.
And you couldn't look away.
Bluer than blue, his sleepy eyes seemed to twinkle—you couldn't tell if it was from amusement, or satisfaction, or something like a mix of them both, but if it weren't for the fact that he was steadying you over the countertop, you were sure you would have melted right into a puddle on the floor.
"Xavier, you're so needy..." you pouted, though the softening of your gaze erased any hint of exasperation.
When he'd momentarily closed his eyes again, slowly leaning up to place a quick peck on your lips, you felt him smile. "You just look... kind of hot, like this." He sighed. "Couldn't stop thinking about you and last night, angel, and then you're like this..."
If your ears didn't betray you, you could have sworn you'd heard a whine fall from his lips.
"How come you didn't even wear any panties...? You're so unfair, angel... I can't go back to sleep like this..."
He was whining.
It was a stark contrast to his more commanding demeanor from the evening before, and had you the strength to truly resist the way his desire would pour right into your body, perhaps you would have teased him a little. He sounded so needy, so desperate—like all he wanted was you, you, you, so much so that even the thought of eating a breakfast cooked by you was less appealing than taking you here on the kitchen counter. You almost couldn't believe it—Xavier adored your cooking.
But you swallowed as he pushed you open, gently guiding you to rest your feet on the surface as if to hold your position in place.
He didn't say anything like he usually would—no comment about your wetness, no comment about how he liked seeing you all spread out for him, no comment about what he wanted to do with you.
Just silence, stepping back to kneel on the floor, half-lidded eyes now eye-level with your glistening cunt.
And then,
"...Breakfast," he said quietly, eyes moving back up to yours in an almost puppy-like gaze that had you clenching around absolutely nothing. "So you won't get angry. I'll eat first."
You could only grit your teeth to suppress a groan at his words.
This fucker, you thought, lower lip trembling as you watched him settle closer to your pussy, hands resting over your thighs to keep you in place. He had the audacity to give you the softest of smiles, before he stuck his tongue out... and licked.
It was slow, at first.
Testing.
Teasing.
He swiped his tongue from just above your slit, to just below your most delicate area—and he pulled back, slick trailing from the tip of his tongue, before repeating the same slow, gentle movements. All the while, he would refuse to break eye contact with you, and you shuddered under his touch.
"X-Xavier, don't tease..." you pouted.
The look in his eyes flashed with momentary amusement. He didn't speak, too busy flattening his tongue against your folds, languidly gliding up and down and barely curling at the tip of your clit, to bother voicing his thoughts at you. But you could hear it, almost—I'm not teasing, he seemed to say, denying his grip on you, denying the way you were trembling at his mouth.
Once he fell into a gentle rhythm, he curled his tongue into the side of your folds, diggind, searching, as if determined to lick you through every little crevice. The tip of his tongue found the eager opening of your entrance, then, and even the slightest touch had you throwing your head back with a moan.
And then he didn't bother going back.
You felt him smirk against you as his tongue was back to your center, lapping at your folds, taking your slick into his mouth in consistent yet lazy swipes.
"P-please, Xavier..." Whines fell from your lips once more, hands tightly gripping the edge of the counter.
But still, he refused to reply, refused to move even an inch away from you, his eyes shining at you in pure delight. Embarrassingly wet sounds were all that you could hear from him, even as you tried hard to keep your composure, barely containing the sounds that threatened to spill out from you.
"Ngh—fuck... Xavier, please, please, more—"
It seemed as if he hadn't been listening to you very much since you'd started, but now, for once, he allowed himself to give in just a little bit.
With another glide over your entrance, he pulled back for a split second to lick his lips, before wrapping them over your clit. In soft motions, his tongue swirled around you. Once, twice, thrice—and then a suck and a pull, releasing your clit with arousal already dripping down his chin.
He smiled at you, then. "Yummy," he said, casual tone colliding with the pure joy in his eyes, before he dove back in to repeat the same motions, tongue flirting with your sensitive bud.
"Xavier!" you cried, panting heavily, fingers reaching out to grip in his hair. You could feel yourself pulse in response to his actions, grinding your hips against his face. Your body went weak, and the hand remaining on the edge of the counter was barely enough to hold you up.
By now, Xavier's eyes had been slowly lulled to a close, soft, open-mouthed moans resounding with wet, slushing noises. The way he was drinking you up, almost slurping at your wetness had you crying out his name on a constant, fingers digging deeply into his scalp when he finally, finally pressed his tongue inside of you.
His grip on your thighs was tighter now, burying his face into your cunt and almost dragging you impossibly closer to him, causing you to fall back against the marble, the cold wall barely supporting your slumped figure.
"X-Xavier! Xav—hng— X-Xavie—"
This time you clenched tightly around his tongue, feeling it slither around your walls almost mercilessly, reveling in the way the tip of his nose would brush in your clit just right. It didn't take long for you to unravel. You creamed all over his his face, frozen, trembling, panting haphazardly.
Only then did Xavier really pull away from you, leaving kitten licks all over your core, easing you through your high.
Your eyes were closed, but you could hear the rustle of fabric and subtle shifting around you. His warmth pressed close to you, breath fanning over your face. "You taste good, angel," he whispered. And you could pout at the way his mouth glistened with your arousal, having opened your eyes to the hazy lust in his own.
You felt weak; spent. But a happy smile splayed across your lips, and you stroked his hair lovingly. "...But you're hard, right...?" you murmured. "You were already so needy, and yet, you still put me first..."
Xavier laughed. Soft, and quiet, he kissed your lips in a delicate flurry, allowing you to taste glimpses of what he had drunk up just seconds ago. "I know. But, I... don't think I'll last very long once I'm inside you..."
You almost giggled at his honesty. You wondered what thoughts he'd truly had when he woke up, to get him searching for your heat first thing in the morning... But you chased his kisses for one last time, before you felt him press his tip at your entrance.
"Please,"  his doe-like eyes looked into you with the most adorable pout, and how could you say no to him?
Xavier laced his fingers with yours when he pushed in, letting out a slow breath, stilling to allow you to take in the way he shuddered just bottoming out within you.
"Does it feel good?" You searched his eyes even as your sensitive walls accepted his length, a size you could never get used to despite how many times he's sheathed himself in you already.
"...Mhm..."
Xavier fell forward.
His weight pushed you back against the wall, and he nuzzled into your neck like you've found in recent weeks that he was very fond of doing.
"So good, angel," he sighed. "So, so good."
Unlike the way he'd been teasing you relentlessly for the past couple of minutes, now, it seemed like he'd submitted entirely to his own desires. For Xavier, you knew, that meant holding you close, and enjoying your warmth—proved by the way he would rock his hips back and forth, slowly, slowly, despite the way he would shudder with every thrust, despite the way he would groan into your skin unabashedly.
Praises would fall from his lips like they usually did, but you found them to be repetitive. Like a chant, like he wasn't thinking, like he was just rolling out words that he felt at the tip of his tongue.
"Ngh... S'good, angel... so good, so good, so good..."
You sighed into his hair, eyes closing at the gentle rhythm.
It was rare for you to see Xavier so drunk on you like this.
In retrospect, you liked it—you didn't mind his pace, didn't mind the way he would whine at you and refuse to let you move away from him. You were grateful that he wasn't taking this time to pound into you like he sometimes did, especially given the way you'd come on his mouth not too long ago. But you supposed, perhaps... he'd had his fair share of fucking you senseless, already the night before.
True to his words, he really didn't take very long, barely keeping his own composure when you clenched over his cock. His hips stuttered, and a whimper fell from his lips, and he was looking at you, eyes glowing softly, pouting under your loving gaze, filling you up with his cum.
"Haah... Angel... Thank you, angel..."
His voice was barely a whisper, tiredness seeping deep into his eyes within seconds as he pulled out and held you close.
It was cute of him. You could almost squeal at the image.
...And it would have been your normal reaction, had he not just made love to you in his kitchen, of all places, and had the edge of the counter not been covered in a pool of cum that was dripping down onto the floor. Because the way that his eyes closed and the way that he took in these slow, deep breaths, told you that he most certainly planned on falling asleep like this. You tapped urgently on his head, determined not to let him do that.
"Xavier... Don't sleep... We have to clean up! A-and, the pancakes will get cold..."
You could sigh at the way he groaned, shifting to bury himself deeper against your chest, voice muffled.
"Don't wanna."
He was almost like a child.
"Xavier—" you tried again, "The kitchen is too messy for you to sleep in—"
"Mmm. Five minutes. Just five. It's a pretty mess, anyway, angel, and I've already had my fill, just... Let me... Close my eyes..."
"Xavier—!"
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⁺₊ / an: this came about because bestie and i talked about the boys' questionable locations for sex and she said xavier would totally take you on the kitchen counter... so i went feral over the idea like any other xavier stan would, but this turned out way softer than i expected it to!!! one day i'll be able to write pure filth for our star boy without it going on for so long and drowning in fluff ....... but that day is not today.
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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