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laurfilijames · 4 months

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Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mentions of being shot through a bulletproof vest. Bruises and welts. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: After a close call in a gunfight, Jax turns to you to remind him of all the things in life worth living for.

A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This is a teeny bit angsty and full of feelings. I needed to write something "short and sweet" (it's neither of those 🤣) to get my writing back on track, and well, here's this... enjoy!!

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The buzz of your phone that sat on the nightstand beside your head woke you from a decent sleep, taking you a few minutes to register it was happening for real and not in a dream, a soft moan passing your lips as you reached over for it and hit the button to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice groggy and unable to disguise your sleep, your eyes too heavy and blurred to have read on the screen who was on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jax’s voice registered in your ear, making you become a little more alert and sit up while running your hand over your hair.

“I’m on my way over,” he explained, his tone short and wired, like he was on edge or adrenaline was pumping through him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, you simply agreed, not asking any questions, knowing if he was calling you and needing to see you at this hour that something more than just sex was on his mind.

The roar of his Harley came through before he hung up, and flinging the covers off while swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you did the same.

You walked through to the front door, wearing only his Reaper t-shirt that had become your nightly staple, flicking the bolt to unlock it as you leaned against the frame, peeling back the curtain that covered the small window to look out onto the dark street as if he would be rolling in any second despite him having just left to get there.

Letting your eyelids close, you continued to lean, wrapping your arms around yourself to try to keep some of the lingering warmth from your bed on your skin, partly hoping that Jax would be tired and ready for sleep when he arrived.

The familiar rumble of his engine sounded in the distance and grew louder with each second, and an automatic smile tugged at your lips, your heart picking up pace just as his motorcycle did to quicker close the gap between him and you.

You watched through the window, your fingers toying with the thin fabric as you held the curtain aside, seeing him roughly push down the kickstand with his white sneakers before quickly standing up and dismounting his bike, unfastening his helmet at the same time.

The way he was rushing made your pulse hammer, his deliberate strides a clear display of his desperation, and you opened the door for him before he blew through it and knocked it off its hinges, his expression a mix of frenzy and relief as his blue eyes landed on you.

Gloved hands gripped your cheeks roughly, pulling you into him equally as much as he pressed himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so hard it stole your breath.

A slightly surprised gasp blew out of your mouth when he parted from you and gave you an opportunity to get air back into your lungs, your eyes searching his features with concern as you took in the sweat clinging to his reddened cheeks, his hair damp and darkened.

His chest rose and fell sharply, and tearing off his gloves, he raked his long fingers that held a home for his chunky rings through his messy tresses, exhaling a shaky breath as he looked down at the floor and then back up at you.

“Jax, what happened?”

He shook his head and chuckled falsely, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth before looking at you with what he must have thought was a convincing expression.

“I’m fine.”

His eyebrows sat high on his forehead and brought out the creases on it as he stared at you, and when you held his gaze almost challengingly, he blinked away the moisture that you caught building up in them and moved into you again, his sigh emptying out into your mouth as he kissed you slower this time, but with equal passion.

Your hands slipped up beneath his kutte, the heat of his skin pouring off of him as you rubbed his back in soothing motions, the act comforting yourself as much as it was him.

The familiar taste and smell of smoke assaulted your nose and transferred onto your tongue, knowing whatever stress he was under right now had caused him to light up one cigarette after the other to try to settle his nerves.

As your kiss faded out, Jax rubbed his nose against the side of yours, his breath hot on your cheek, the stickiness of his skin transferring onto yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing for a moment while he let his hands roam up over your bum and onto the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his.

Swaying slightly on the spot, he nuzzled his face into yours even more, a moment of softness before he met your lips again, claiming you in another kiss that started slow and quickly increased in fervor.

His breathing became laboured, struggling to draw in enough air as he kissed you harder and with more desperation, his hands gripping at your flesh beneath his worn shirt.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you as it strained against his jeans, making you rub yourself on it a couple of times with a teasing grind of your hips, your fingers moving down his stomach to work at the button and zipper while he shrugged out of his kutte.

It landed carelessly on the floor beside you, and you couldn’t mistake the slight wince on his face before it disappeared in his hoodie as he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head, immediately moving back to capture your lips again.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, walking forward to force you back and further into your house, your hand rubbing him through his boxers before diving inside the waistband to take hold of his cock, stroking the hot, velvety skin of his length that made you moan into his mouth and him push harder on yours.

Both of you blindly made your way toward your bedroom, only pausing your kisses briefly to peel the white t-shirt that clung to his body off of him, your breath knocking out of you as he slammed you against the wall and began lifting the hem of the shirt still covering your body.

Once your naked form was available to him, he trailed his lips down your neck and along your collarbone while his hands smoothed all along your waist, one moving to your breasts where his fingers plucked one of your peaked nipples, the other traveling downward to slip between your legs.

“Jax…” you breathed, your tone needy and filled with lust, the sensation of his fingers entering and withdrawing from your slick hole making your eyes close and your head knock back on the drywall.

After losing yourself in ecstasy for a couple of minutes, you refocused, needing him more than ever, your thumbs hooking in the band of his boxers to tear them down his legs.

Jax took your hand and turned to lead you the short distance to your room, giving you a view of his back where your eyes were drawn to different spots of dark colouring that weren’t part of the ones that made up the large tattoo that covered almost all of it.

Peppered between the image of the Reaper and letters that spelled out ‘California’ were round bruises, his skin raised with welts, and your heart sank in realization of what had caused them; the impact of the bullets that had hit him unable to be disguised even with the protection of kevlar.

You instinctively reached out to lightly trace each one, counting three in total, a mix of emotions rushing through you that were half grateful and half terrified.

“I’m fine.” He repeated the same lie as before, glancing back at you as he paused in his steps and turned to face you.

You dove into him, wrapping your shaky arms around him to hug him so tight you didn’t care if it hurt, feeling his arms encase you in return and his lips press multiple times on the top of your head.

A sourness crept up your restricted throat, your guts twisting almost painfully at the thought of one of those bullets striking a place the bulletproof vest hadn’t been covering, and you frantically began kissing him everywhere you could reach, starting on his chest and making your way up his neck, your hands moving to cup his cheeks where your thumbs smoothed back and forth on his blond scruff. Your lips met again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you transferred all your worry and grief into a display of love, his cock nudging at your core to remind you of what it was he needed right now.

The oncoming tears stung when you squeezed your eyelids together tightly, one slipping out and down your cheek as you retrained your focus on the feel of his tongue tangling with yours instead, the simplicity of needing to just be with him beginning to outweigh anything else.

You finally made it into your room, sitting on the bed and scooching yourself back to lay down with spread legs as he settled between them and sank overtop of you, continuing to kiss you with as much ardor that the skin around your mouth was already beginning to feel raw.

His knee pressed up on your thigh to guide it higher, spreading you out further as he covered your body completely with his, his fingers running along your scalp to send shivers across your skin.

You adjusted your hips, angling yourself to allow for his leaking head to push through your folds, lingering with just the tip of him inside you that somehow already made you feel full.

The skin on his back was tacky as you ran your hands gently up and down it, feeling his muscles flex as he began to move against you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch as he slowly pushed all the way in.

It was ironic; catching glimpses of the silver shell casing that hung from the chain around his neck in the light shining in through the window as it wagged and glided along your chest, filling the space between your hearts that hammered furiously and proved his vitality as if it hadn’t been threatened.

As soon as Jax had pulled into your driveway he felt better, the need to see you and be with you at the forefront of his mind, having bolted out of the clubhouse the minute he had changed out of his tac vest and clothes that were sprayed with holes from the gunshots he could still hear going off in his head.

Now that he had felt your lips against his and the softness of your skin beneath his palms, he was filled with an appreciation for you that he knew he took for granted too many times before, the relief he felt at being with someone who made him feel alive after a close call with death sobering him in a harsh bite of reality.

The way you made him feel was undeniable, giving him a vigor that was too often misplaced and diluted even though you showed him a brighter side to all the darkness that surrounded him, his lack of commitment to anyone but his club wrongly applicable even to you.

He thrusted harder into you, deepening his strokes as he peeled his mouth from yours to watch his cock pump in and out of you, the sound of your pleasure coming out in beautiful whimpers and soft moans while requesting more from him reiterating every reason why he came here tonight in the first place.

Jax dove against your lips again, needing to kiss you in order to stop himself from saying things that he feared may only be a result of how fucking scared he had been earlier, but deep down knowing the words that portrayed how he felt weren’t coming from a place of fear.

It felt different. Crazed and desperate and meaningful, the way he fucked you hinting at something more intent and unwavering than usual.

Sex with Jax was always mind-numbing and intense, but you never let yourself get too far into things knowing he could be gone before you even woke the next day and carrying on without thinking twice about it meaning anything more, his nonchalance always reminding you to take nothing from it other than pleasure.

Gone.

The potency of that little word had your eyes burning again, burrowing an emptiness in your chest that ached to be filled by anything he was generous enough to give.

There were never any labels put on what you were to each other or what this was, but the possibility of losing him at any moment made you desperate to show him what he meant to you, your fingers digging into the flesh on his upper arms so hard as if adding marks of your own on his body would make him stay with you forever.

You reached your face upward to press harder against his mouth, happy when he reciprocated and drove his tongue deeper inside yours, the long, rolling motions of his hips continuing, only now with more calculated force.

Heat bubbled within you, building up into that familiar tingle that taunted to be chased, every nerve in you warning of what drew nearer with each pump and drag of his long cock in and out of you.

The way his hands roamed your body in a calm, but needy way had your mind spinning, like the more he touched you the more it grounded and convinced him that he was still here to enjoy something this good; the gravity of today in no hurry to lose its effectiveness.

Jax paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over your forehead as he searched your eyes for permission or assurance or something more that scared even you, the sound of your panting breaths the only thing audible in the dark quiet of your room. He dipped down to brush your lips again, his scruff holding onto the sweat that had effectively coated every part of his body, lightly teasing with a softer kiss before resuming the purposeful tempo of his hips, the silence between you able to voice that you were both ready to find your high together.

Letting your bodies say what your words couldn't, you met his pace, grinding and rolling deliberately in time with him, the need to help him find his release with the use of your body seeming more important tonight than it ever had.

Jax gripped your face tightly, his fingers squeezing your jawline in an almost frantic way, groaning into your mouth desperately as a signal of his climax.

His thrusts never faltered, continuing to pound you while his hot cum filled you up in aggressive spurts, throwing you into your own orgasm as your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs on his groin. The feel of his cock sliding his thick seed in and out of you drew out your high, prolonging every blissful spark and shudder that tore through your body, the way his sweaty form laid heavily on top of yours a necessary weight that helped you stay rooted in the moment.

He remained buried inside you while you kissed, catching your breaths by sharing each other’s until he slipped from between your legs and crashed onto the covers beside you, his arm falling over his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Despite having just been as close to him as you possibly could be, you felt a vacancy and longing for him, glancing over at him where you watched him close his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly as he drew in sharp breaths.

His necklace fell to the side from where it rested on his pec, hanging in his armpit as he continued to breathe, and you carefully picked it up between your fingers, the silver cold against them and a stark contrast to the heat that radiated off his body.

Even though his eyes remained closed, you couldn’t mistake the pained look on his face, a sort of fear and vulnerability that was rare to see on his features, his mortality shattering the usual invincibility that was layered on falsely by his cockiness.

Your chest felt tight, watching him let everything the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling earlier course through him, and you leaned over and traced your fingertips along the creases beside his mouth before pressing your lips to his, relieved when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

His arms came down to wrap around you, pulling your body to rest more on top of his, his hands carding over your back in a comfortable, soothing way.

You couldn’t recount the times sex with Jax had turned into a quick goodbye between smiling kisses and promises to see each other soon only to have days turn into weeks, convincing yourself and him that this was nothing more than a casual, fun fuck, having to disguise the way your heart ached for him and how many butterflies erupted at the mention of his name alone.

None of that mattered tonight, no longer caring if you let your cards show, the severity of tonight outweighing any need to try to stifle your feelings or bother denying that you felt more for him than you ever intended to let happen.

Jax remained pensive and quiet, his boisterous self clouded by his brush with a graver fate, but with the occasional kiss to the top of your head and the way his heartbeat had steadied in your ear, you knew he was comforted in your embrace.

As you laid entwined in your sheets, your leg hooked over his waist while he held your hand and played with your fingers, interlacing them and listlessly running them through his, you thought how you would never be able to control or guarantee if he would be yours to love forever, the way he lived his reckless life a threat to any sort of assurance.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when Jax shifted slightly lower on the bed to line up your face with his, kissing you slowly and clutching your hand in his where he brought it into his chest.

His nose rubbed against yours a couple of times before he settled his head on your pillow, a quiet hum sounding from his mouth, his blue eyes shining with a vitality and promise that for at least another day, he was yours.

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#jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller smut #jax teller x female reader #charlie hunnam #jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy fic #charlie hunnam characters #jax teller fic #samcro

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peachdues · 8 months

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HEARTBALM

Kyojuro x Reader (modern AU NSFW)

A/N: I have COVID brain fog and it shows. You legally can't hold how bad this is against me. But if you somehow like it, likes/reblogs/comments, always appreciated! I promise I'm saving Netherwood for when I've recovered lmao.

This is like a Frankenstein-fulfillment request of several of my 2K event requests. So if you asked for Kyojuro and any of the prompts involving “please let me cum in you” or “woah, woah, I’m here. I’m right here,” congrats! This is for you. I’m sorry it’s ass.

CW: angry/possessive Kyojuro • mentions of toxic/slightly verbally abusive ex boyfriend • ex boyfriend gets decked • explicit sexual content • breeding kink • creampies • car sex • MDNI.

Everything was too loud and too close. You swore you felt a dozen pairs of eyes burning holes into you with such intensity that you were surprised you were still standing, rather than folding over like a piece of Swiss cheese. The judgment in their gazes felt like a blade against your throat, the cold sting imploring you to fold, to disappear.

There was no air in your lungs, so before you could choke in front of all of your ex-boyfriend’s cronies and friends, you turned and did as cowards did; you ran.

You pushed and shoved your way through the thick crush of bodies that had gathered in this small, off-campus house for the last party of the semester, the last chance for them all to let loose before their lives became a flurry of final exams and papers and discarded coffee cups in dimply lit corners of the campus library. You’d thought it would be your chance to relax, too, after the hair-pulling stress that had been the last month and a half of your life. Stress, that had been expounded upon by the simpering, smarmy asshole you’d once called your boyfriend, who now stared after your retreating form with a vicious grin, apparently pleased to have gotten under his former girlfriend’s skin once more.

There was a buzzing beneath your skin that would not quiet, that seemed to only grow hotter and more incessant as you navigated the maze of bodies and tables set for beer pong in this labyrinth of college-aged debauchery. In the three minutes you’d been darting and ducking around what had to be half of the Ubayashiki University student body, you’d not seen a friendly or familiar face once.

Where was Kyojuro?

You needed to find your sun. You needed your kind, supportive, and steadfast best friend who’d been glued to your side ever since freshman orientation, when you’d shyly approached him and asked if you could eat lunch beside him, feeling too nervous to risk approaching anyone else. He’d laughed, warm and welcoming, as he made room at his table for you, welcoming you with such sincerity and kindness that it was no wonder that you and so many others were drawn to him.

And though Kyojuro treated almost everyone as though they’d been best friends for years, you had been the only one in your orientation group that he’d allowed to truly get to know him. Whether it was during a morning stroll through the campus green as you made your way to your early morning classes, or pressed up against the greasy wall of the grill as you waited for the fry cook to call out your orders, the walls Kyojuro had so carefully crafted to conceal the tempest of passion and fire that raged beneath his dazzling smiles and loud, booming laughs began to peel back, and you saw him for what he truly was.

Truthfully, the more he showed you, the more you wanted; he was a riddle you would never tire of working out, a puzzle you hoped never to solve, even as the pieces fell faster and faster into place.

As your circle of friends grew, your bond only strengthened. It was Kyojuro you called when you found out your beloved childhood dog passed away, hardly able to speak through the tears as they streamed down your face. It was Kyojuro who had all but sprinted from his residence hall to yours, well across campus, with three pints of your favorite ice cream in tow, and who’d let you eat your fill until your stomach was full and the emptiness in your heart had subsided.

And it was you who Kyojuro had called to come join him as he’d smoked a rare cigarette, hands shaking with both his hurt and his anger after a particularly nasty call from his father.

And yet, you’d never dated; you’d never escalated your friendship beyond a few, charged moments that had been marked only by a series of almost and never anything completed.

He wasn’t a fan of your ex-boyfriend; that much he’d made clear. Though Kyojuro had never been one to be unkind towards anyone, you hadn’t missed the way his eyes tightened any time your ex let a door slam in your face or ignored your hand in favor of his phone. Kyojuro hadn’t been shy to let you know that he thought you deserved better – far better.

You’d wanted to ask him whether he thought better was with him, because you knew deep in your heart, if he asked, you would be his; but you never built up the courage to ask, and so you quashed these feelings down deep, hiding them away in a locked chest never to be opened.

Then, you’d finally broken up with your ex only a month prior after discovering he’d cheated on you with no shortage of other students on campus, everyone but you apparently having been in on the cruel joke. Kyojuro had been one of the few steadfastly in your corner, insistent that you’d done nothing wrong, no matter how many times your ex tried to claim you’d pushed him into sleeping with half the student body.

You hadn’t seen your ex, not since you’d coolly told him the pair of you were over, all those weeks ago; not until tonight, when you’d nearly smashed into him while trying to get a drink from the makeshift bar in this strange house you’d never been in.

“Well, well,” your ex-boyfriend had crooned, hand gripping your elbow and keeping you trapped there with him and his smirking pack of hyenas looking at you like you were something to devour. “Did you miss me that much, gorgeous?”

“Get off me,” you’d tried to growl, though the slight wobble in your voice defeated any attempt of yours to be threatening, instead leaving you to come off as a scared little girl, cornered somewhere she shouldn’t have been.

Your ex’s eyes were malicious as they raked over you. “Did you wear that for me, darling?”

He was referring to the red sundress you’d worn, the one you knew made your curves look downright sumptuous, but now you felt like it was a neon sign that read “HARASS ME,” given the hunger in your ex’s eyes that sent your skin crawling. You’d worn it for yourself, to feel confident, only now, you felt like a piece of fruit ripe for plucking, and you’d somehow fallen into the greediest hands on campus.

By divine luck, your ex’s grip on your forearm loosened and you yanked back out of his reach, forgoing the red plastic cup containing whatever grotesque combination of alcohol the party hosts had come up with in favor of putting as much distance as possible between yourself and your ex.

You’d come with Kyojuro and your friend Tengen, but now you couldn’t find either and it only made you feel more lost; more vulnerable. There was a buzzing in your ears that drowned out the pounding base of the music thumping through the blown-out speakers haphazardly set up in the house’s den. Your vision tunneled, and you wondered whether anyone would notice if you dropped to the floor and screamed; if anyone would care.

Stumbling blindly, you smashed into something warm and sold, and it sent you staggering backward.

“Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled, eyes still wide and unfocused as you moved to push past whatever or whomever you’d smacked into, uncaring at the way your torment was surely etched into your face.

“Woah, hey, hey,” a warm hand closed around your arm as you tried to shove past the body, steadying you, locking you into place. “Y/N, look at me.”

The familiarity of the voice and the touch did not register, and you only continued to shake your head, muttering your apologies.

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m here. I’m right here.” Kyojuro caught you by the arm as you tried once more to shove past him in your haste the leave the party you’d stupidly decided to attend. A hand gripped your chin and firmly but gently turned your head up to meet a pair of ochre eyes, running over you in concern.

“Kyo,” you breathed in relief, feeling yourself melt slightly beneath the steadying warmth of your best friend.

Kyojuro’s mouth was set in a hard line. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

You uttered the name of your insufferable ex and Kyojuro’s eyes darkened. “What did he do?”

His hand gripped yours and you were grateful for the way it helped anchor you and kept you from spinning out under the anxious whirlwind of your thoughts. “Nothing, he’s just being an asshole – please, Kyo, can we leave?”

You felt slightly guilty – after all, it was you who’d suggested you all come to this party in the first place, and now you were the one wanting to leave less than an hour later, but it was too much. Surely, your best friend wouldn’t hold your fickleness so terribly against you, not when it wasn’t your fault in the first place that you’d been sent careening toward an anxiety attack.

Kyojuro didn’t hesitate as he nodded. “Just let me find Tengen and I’ll let him know. I’ll drive you home.”

You smiled faintly in relief, squeezing his hand appreciatively before letting him go. The way Kyojuro’s fingers had lingered against yours had made your heart flutter, chasing away thoughts of him, your ex, and replacing them with a shy curiosity that made you want to know what those fingers would feel like if they touched other parts of you.

Or, it may have been the little alcohol you’d ingested coloring your thoughts; after all, you’d hardly eaten that day in preparation for getting properly soused at the party you now were so desperate to leave.

You retreated into the kitchen, near the open door that led out to a finished, in-ground pool in which several other attendees were already swimming, some without clothes on, too lost in whatever beverage or drug they’d ingested to care. You’d thought yourself safe, amidst a crowd of admittedly drunk party-goers, but it seemed not even the threat of onlookers would keep your abrasive ex at bay.

A hand grazed your rear end, and it sent every hair on your body standing. “Why in such a rush to leave, gorgeous?” A sickeningly familiar voice purred in your ear.

You spat your ex’s name with as much vitriol as you could muster as you turned to face him. “I told you not to fucking touch me.”

Your ex placed a hand mockingly against the wall, next to your head as he leaned in close. “What’s wrong, baby?” His breath was rank with the stench of stale alcohol, and it made your stomach churn. “You used to like being manhandled.”

Your face hardened. “Not by you; not anymore.” You swatted his hand away from where he’d boxed you in, eager to put this party and him behind you, where they belonged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me –”

Your ex’s hand seized around your wrist, its grip tight – too tight. “Just hold on, you haughty little thing,” his tone was kept light but the look on his face was menacing. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

You pulled at the hold he had on you but to no avail. Though you were surrounded by other party attendees, you felt alone, more isolated than ever, as countless eyes pointedly ignored your struggle. You were about to open your mouth, to shout, to curse your ex out, when your ex’s hand suddenly released your arm.

“Take your fucking hands off of her.”

Wide-eyed, you looked to see Kyojuro’s considerable fist wrapped tightly around your ex’s forearm, its size dwarfing the limb beneath to look like a mere twig. Kyojuro’s eyes, normally so inviting and open, had gone hard and black, his jaw stiff with his ire. Though the cold rage contorting your best friend’s face was not directed at you, its sudden manifestation from your otherwise sunny, warm, and gentle friend made you recoil.

“Kyo,” you started, voice low in warning as your eyes darted between the lethal anger simmering on Kyojuro’s face and the infuriatingly smug look on your ex’s, as he smirked at the burly blonde.

“I don’t think this concerns you, Rengoku,” your former boyfriend simpered, a challenge lighting his eyes as he jerked his chin towards you. “This is between me and her, pure and simple.”

Desperately, you glanced around the room hoping to find any of your other friends who could step in, who could intervene before things turned too ugly. Mercifully, you locked eyes with Tengen, who was just on the other side of the pool, grabbing another drink. Eyes wide, you looked back and forth between Kyojuro and your silver-haired friend, hoping he understood your silent plea.

A curt nod from your friend communicated he had, and Tengen quickly began pushing through the throng of people who had begun to coalesce around the edge of the pool as they watched the pair of men engaged in a stare-off beside you.

Kyojuro raised his head slightly, looking down upon the man you used to claim to love in disgust. “Any yet she told you to leave her alone. Are we having listening problems?”

A sardonic smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps I can help you with that.”

Your ex’s eyes cut back to you, a sneer curling his lip. “Figures,” he spat, his tone full of acid. “Not even a month broken up and you’ve already spread your legs for him like a fuckin’ whore.”

There was a collective intake of breath from the surrounding spectators as Kyojuro stepped closer to your seething ex, their noses nearly touching as he held his stare.

“Say it again,” Kyojuro said quietly, all traces of that mocking smirk long-gone, replaced only by a malicious glint in his eyes that promised swift violence that had your hand jumping to grip his arm in warning. “Go on.”

Your weak tugs at Kyojuro’s bicep did little to divert his attention. For one, terrifying moment, you feared that blows were imminent, until a painted hand shoved between the two men, pushing Kyojuro back by his chest.

Tengen.

“As much as I hate to break up the fun, I’m sure you don’t want the entire school witnessing you getting your face pounded in,” The silver-haired senior said coolly to your drunk ex.

Kyojuro allowed himself to be pushed back by his friend, though he refused to break the tense stare he held with the man he’d marked as his opponent. “We can work this out anytime, it doesn’t have to be here,” he taunted with a jeering smirk. “But stay the fuck away from her.”

“Don’t try and fucking tell me how to talk to my ex-girlfriend,” your former lover spat, taking an unsteady step towards the three of you. “Why’re you standing up for the bitch, anyways? The whore has kept stringing you along for god knows how long without putting out –“

His drunken ramblings were cut off by a sickening crunch of bones beneath a fist that seemed to echo through the crowded backyard. Onlookers stared in shock as your ex staggered back, hands flying to staunch the crimson now coursing from his broken nose, curses thick and garbled slipping from his mouth as it filled with blood.

“Shit.” Tengen breathed, his eyes wide.

A dozen pair of eyes turned towards you and your best friend, round with shock as an uncomfortable buzz settled into the thick, night air. Kyojuro was panting, the skin of his knuckles stained with blood from his split skin and that of your ex’s as he stared at your flame-haired friend.

“I warned you,” Kyojuro’s tone was almost jovial but its cheerfulness was undercut by his glower. “Watch your fucking language when speaking about a lady.”

Your hand clenched at his bicep once more. “Kyojuro, let’s go.”

Your tone snapped him out of whatever cold rage in which he’d been simmering and his amber eyes lifted to meet yours. You did not wait for him to follow as you turned sharply on your heel and stormed out of the house, eyes resolutely focused on the door in order to avoid acknowledging the way dozens of pairs of eyes followed your every step.

---

Your feet hit the pavement of the street outside, the night air cool on your heated skin. You heard the steady beat of your friend’s footsteps behind you, and you whipped around, eyes blazing, and blood boiling.

“What the fuck was that?” You hissed once the two of you were far enough away from the party and any nosy on-lookers as you stalked toward Kyojuro’s car. “Were you trying to get yourself arrested?”

Kyojuro did not answer, the scowl on his face turning into something menacing beneath the flickering lamps lining the crowded street.

“I was handling it just fine, you know, but you had to step in and turn it into a fucking pissing contest –”

“Stop talking, Y/N.” Kyojuro finally snapped, his voice a low growl.

You only seethed. “Who the fuck do you think you are –?”

Your fiery companion only placed a hand firmly at the small of your back and pushed you forward, your feet nearly stumbling to keep yourself upright as he guided you towards your car.

“Kyojuro –” you began, testily.

“Shut up, Y/N.” He cut you off severely. “Just – be quiet and get in the fucking car.”

Something about his tone coupled with the stormy look on his face quieted any further protest you may have had, and you allowed him to forcefully guide you to his car. Kyojuro wrenched the door open and pushed you down into the passenger seat, even taking the time to fasten your seatbelt for you, the brush of his hand against your waist searing into you in a way that made you squirm.

As embarrassing as you found it, you could not deny that your friend’s protectiveness over you stoked something hot and molten in your gut; made your thighs rub together, as your stomach fluttered.

Kyojuro was silent as he drove, the air between you cackling with electricity.

“Have you calmed down?” You asked sarcastically after several minutes of tense silence, unable to stomach the quiet any longer.

Kyojuro’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I can’t believe you dated something like that,” he ground out, eyes fixed hard on the road ahead of him. “The way he spoke to you just now – that doesn’t come out of nowhere.”

You fidgeted in your seat, fingers playing with the band of the seatbelt as the weight of Kyojuro’s accusation settled.

“That wasn’t the first time, was it?”

Your shoulders curled inward, and you suddenly felt like a cornered animal; you resented him for it. “What does it matter, now? We’re done. It’s over, and I’m not going back.”

Kyojuro pulled sharply off an exit, following a bumpy road to a quiet, darkened overlook that abutted a state park. He stopped the car, slamming it into park as his hands remained tightly curled around the steering wheel, his breath hard and fast in his nose.

“Why did you date him?” His tone was almost accusatory. “He was an asshole from the start, and yet you dated him for almost a year.”

You bit your lip and Kyojuro’s eyes followed the movement closely. “Because I wasn’t sure of another’s feelings.”

Kyojuro exhaled sharply, turning his body more towards you, his eyes locked onto you with searing intensity. “And this other – did you ever confess your true feelings?”

You hesitated for only a moment, shaking your head slightly. You chanced lifting your gaze up to meet his, gulping slightly at the heat which you found there.

There was a beat, and then the two of you surged towards one another over the center console of his car, drawn to one another like a pair of magnets. Your mouths met in a fiery clash of lips and teeth, Kyojuro’s tongue sliding seamlessly into your mouth to dance with yours. His hand rose to tangle in your hare, ensnaring you against him and his fervid touch and desperate lips.

He moaned your name against feverish kisses, his lips only breaking from yours to dance across your jaw, your neck, any part of you he could reach.

He wasn’t close enough; you tugged at the collar of his button down, trying to pull him atop you, to feel if his chiseled body felt as rock-solid as you’d always imagined.

“You’re impatient,” he chuckled against your throat as he sucked his mark into your skin. “Do you want me to keep going?”

Your fingers, buried deep in his flame-colored hair, tugged, insistent. “Yes. Don’t you dare stop now.”

Warm hands gripped your waist and hauled you up out of your seat. Somehow, you were folded in just the right position to be passed over the console of his car, and Kyojuro swiftly tossed you into the back seat of his car. As you panted for breath, the skirt of your sundress rising high up your thighs, Kyojuro clambered over his own seat to join you, pinning you half between the backseat and the car door.

Before he reconnected your lips, Kyojuro’s hands found his way under you once more, deftly maneuvering you until it was he who sat against the backseat of his car, and you were straddled in his lap, chest heaving and cheeks pink.

“Was this your goal?” You teased, and to your delight, you felt something hard begin to press into your groin as your breath mixed with his, a slight fog beginning to condense on the windows. “To have me at your mercy?”

Kyojuro leaned up slightly, brushing his lips against the fluttering pulse point in your neck, smirking against your skin. “If you’re asking whether I took you out of the party with this in mind, then no,”

His hands smoothed up and down your sides before sliding behind you to squeeze your ass, rubbing firmly as he rolled his hips up into yours.

“But if you’re asking if I’ve planned to have you this way at all… then I would say,” he cut himself off as he kissed his way back to your lips, holding back the tantalizing feel of his mouth against yours for a fraction of a second. “That has always been my goal, beautiful. From the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

He kissed you softly then, teeth lightly nipping at your lower lip before he pulled away once more to look over you.

“But I want far more from you, if you’re willing to give it.”

Your heart fluttered in your throat as your legs clenched. You knew there were several meanings to his words — both in terms of the physical and with regard to your long-term relationship.

You settled on his lap, arms looping around his neck as your breath mixed with his, anticipation fluttering in your stomach.

“Kiss me, Kyo.” You whispered, your eyes lowering to his lips.

He regarded you with a half-lidded, lust-filled expression of his own. “Where?”

Your fingers wound in his hair, pulling softly in a way that made him moan. “Everywhere.”

Sturdy yet nimble fingers worked their way up to the buttons on the bodice of your sundress, undoing them with a swiftness you’d not realized he possessed.

The last button undone, Kyojuro brought his hands to the loosened folds of your sundress and pushed them aside, warm hands grazing the sensitive skin beneath.

“Christ, woman,” he groaned as your bare breasts were revealed to him. “You’re killing me.”

You giggled, inwardly glad you’d forsaken wearing a bra beneath the dress, though you certainly hadn’t intended to wind up like this — perched in your best friend’s lap, his growing bulge digging into the sensitive spot between your legs as he leaned in to take one pert nipple into his hot mouth, his hand covering the other breast and rolling it beneath his fingers.

Not a single part of you could bring yourself to regret the decision, however, not as Kyojuro’s teeth grazed your sensitive bud, your head falling back as you pressed your chest against his face, begging him for more.

Kyojuro moaned against your breast, his hand steadily working the other as he nipped and sucked at you, covering your chest in splotches of purple and red, your skin bearing the mark of his teeth as he claimed you.

You ground down against the rigid bulge nestled between your thighs, breath hitching as he pressed against that sensitive spot between your legs, causing a rush of your fluid to surge forth and coat the flimsy lace of your thong.

If you weren’t careful, you’d risk leaving evidence of your desire smeared right on the front seam of his pants. But if Kyojuro cared, he certainly didn’t show it as his free arm looped around your waist to push you down, forcing your groin to mash tightly against his.

Your hands moved desperately down Kyojuro’s front as his mouth continued to work your breasts, until they reached the top of his pants. You fumbled with his belt, determined to loosen it and free the hardened bulge straining against the crotch of his pants.

“You’re so,” Kyojuro panted, his hips twitching up against your touch. “Eager, my flame.”

Your ears perked at the affectionate nickname. “Your flame?” Your lips swept to the side to suck at the side of his neck.

Kyojuro’s head tilted to the side, allowing you more access as he pressed you harder into his face. “Yes, my flame,” he nipped lightly at your pert nipple, just as his fingers slid between your thighs to dance along the sensitive skin between your leg and hip. “Because you make me burn.”

His fingers grazed the front of your thong and Kyojuro groaned at the wetness he felt seeping through the thin lace.You nearly hissed at the contact, grinding yourself against his fingers, beseeching your best friend to give you more, to touch you where you needed him most.

“Kyo,” you whined, head falling back.

“Oh fuck,” Kyojuro slid two fingers beneath the crotch of your underwear, dragging them right up your drenched slit. “You’re wet — so fucking wet.”

“I just want to slide right in,” your friend teased, and his fingers easily breached your entrance, working deep into your opening as you mewled for him. “I bet you could take me just like this.”

His thumb brushed against your clit as his index and middle finger worked your core, making you stiffen stop him as your breath labored. Kyojuro swore again as he curled his fingers upward, feeling the way your velvet walls clenched around him.

“K-Kyo!” You gasped. “I can’t wait — I need you. Need you now.”

“Then I guess we agree,” Kyojuro growled against your lips as he shifted you beneath him. “Because I can’t wait to be inside you, either.”

Kyojuro spread you out beneath him, against the worn cloth of his backseat. He fumbled above you, trying to contort his large body in the small, cramped space of the back of his car.

His hands moved to loosen his belt and shove the tops of his pants and briefs down his hips, just far enough to let his leaking, stiffened cock spring forth, its tip smacking against his belly. Your mouth watered at the sight, at the thickness of his length, far more than you’d ever encountered before.

Kyojuro smirked at the awe on your face. “Trust I know how to use it, too.”

You flushed dark at the boldness with which he spoke, though your voice somehow remained steady. “Then prove it.”

Kyojuro covered you with a low growl, his hands flipping the skirt of your dress out of the way as his fingers slid your thong down your legs, chucking it to the side. He tugged you forward over the seat, a buckle of a seatbelt digging somewhat uncomfortably into your back, though that discomfort was quickly chased away as Kyojuro lined himself up with your entrance and pulled you sharply down, impaling you on his rigid length.

Your scream choked off in your throat as he shifted to press one leg up against the back rest of the seat and used his hands to hold your other open, keeping you spread wide for him. His thrusts were wild and frenzied, though his motions were somewhat limited by the spatial constraints of the backseat of his car. You didn’t care, however; not as his cock pistoned into you so deeply, you swore you saw stars; not as his coarse base ground against your sensitive clit, Kyojuro’s name falling in a repeated whine from your lips.

Kyojuro tried to brace his feet against the rear door for leverage for his thrusts, but each haphazard movement only caused him to grow more frustrated.

He tried to distract himself by pressing his lips bruisingly against yours, but it was not enough. Your flame-haired friend slammed his hand against the roof of his car in frustration.

“Fuck this,” he growled against your lips before he pulled out of you and away. You whined at the loss of his body heat, so warm and all-consuming. The ache between your legs had become nearly maddening as the empty walls of your core now clenched around nothing.

Even in the dark, Kyojuro’s eyes glowed, like pools of molten ore threatening to burn you with their heat as he reached blindly behind him and jerked on the handle of the car door, using his foot to kick it open.

He slid out, his stiffened cock still standing proudly above the loosened waistband of his pants as he rose to his full height. Reaching back into the car, Kyojuro wrapped his strong, warm hands around your knees and tugged you across the backseat toward him until your ass was on the edge of the seat, your legs dangling outside the door, toes just grazing the gravel below.

“Wrap your legs around me,” Kyojuro’s voice was harsh yet commanding, and your compliance was automatic. Your legs instantly wound around his waist, locking at the ankles against his lower back.

His hands then dipped below where you still lay against the worn seat of his car, splaying across your back. His grip secure, Kyojuro hauled you up and out of the back seat, his arms readjusting his hold as his hands came to rest under the skirt of your sundress, fingers kneading the fleshy curve of your ass.

You decided you’d gone far too long without his lips against yours, and so with a needy moan, you slanted her mouth back over his, sighing happily into him as his lips parted to allow your tongue to sweep in and glide alongside his.

So intoxicated were you by his kiss that you did not realize Kyojuro had walked you around to the front of his car, his headlights still beaming bright through the dark of the night air. A startled gasp broke your kiss at the warm press of metal against your back as Kyojuro laid you over the front hood of his car. Your cry of surprise did not seem to faze him, for Kyojuro only moved his lips to sweep across your neck with needy, open-mouthed kisses.

“Much better,” he grunted against your skin, his tongue flicking out against the hollow of your throat.

“K-Kyo!” You hissed, though you found it difficult to actually feel irritated toward the fiery blonde pressing you against the hood of his car – especially given the way his hips ground and bucked against yours. “We’re in the open!”

Kyojuro’s mouth pulled off your neck with a groan as he lifted his head to glare down at you as you panted and blushed beneath him. A hand reached between your bodies to grip the base of his cock, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull as you felt Kyojuro begin to drag the leaking head of his length up and down your slick folds, teasing.

“If I’m going to fuck you, I’m going to do it the way I want,” he warned, his voice roughened by raw desire. “I’m not letting myself be held back by a damn car seat.”

Any protestation or witty response you could have lobbed back at him died on your lips as Kyojuro pressed the tip of his cock firmly against your clit. Your head fell back against the hood of the car with a cry, your hips bucking up against his, begging him to take you and end the torment between your legs.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word out of you that isn’t my name or how good my cock feels, got it?” Kyojuro bent low and took your nipple between his teeth, sucking at it harshly. “Answer me.”

A thumb and a forefinger replaced the head of Kyojuro’s erect length at your clit and squeezed once, in warning.

“Yes!” You yelped, your thighs tightening around his hips in a desperate but futile attempt to clench shut. “I understand – Kyo, please –”

Your begging was cut off with a scream as Kyojuro sheathed himself back into your dripping heat in a single, fluid stroke. Before you could catch your breath, Kyojuro began circling his hips, rolling them heavily against yours.

“That’s it, baby, just feel me,” He murmured, teeth grazing the sensitive shell of your ear. “God, you feel like fucking heaven.”

“Kyojuro,” you moaned, your eyes rolling heavily back into your skull. “Oh god, more –”

Kyojuro’s answering groans were loud and unrestrained, tempered only by the squeak of his car hood as he brought one knee up to rest upon it, bearing more of his weight down upon you as his thrusts grew harder and harder.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his eyes shut tight. “Fuck, I can’t get enough, I need more –”

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force as he tiled them further, tugging you flush against his groin with your backside nearly suspended above the car hood. Your moans melted into loud, high-pitched cries as you thrashed against the front of the car, the heels of your feet digging deeper into the steel of Kyojuro’s backside to press him closer, deeper into your velvet heat.

The new angle allowed Kyojuro’s cock to reach parts of you you hadn’t known could be explored, stretching you in ways you hadn’t realized could be stretched. How you’d managed to go so long without knowing the euphoric bliss that was Kyojuro’s body was a mystery you weren’t sure even the most revered philosopher could solve. All you knew, however, as the thick tip of Kyojuro’s cock pressed against something so deep within you it made your eyes roll back and your jaw slacken until drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, was that you could never have anyone else. No one would ever be capable of fucking you the way Kyojuro was right then, and you didn’t think you’d even allow them to try.

Despite your brain having been largely reduced to a puddle of gray matter in your skull with every lurid drag and push of Kyojuro’s cock into your soaked cunt, you forced your mouth to form a single, desperate command.

“More,” you begged, the word slurring off your tongue, breaking up the series of nonsensical babbles that had poured from your mouth the minute Kyojuro decided to mold your insides to the shape of him. “More.”

“Jesus fuck,” Kyojuro’s jaw was clenched tight enough to crack his teeth, sweat running down his neck and sliding between the mass of his pectorals.

Broad hands slid to the back of your thighs and pushed them up and back until your knees kissed the hood of his car. The new angle allowed Kyojuro to pound even deeper into you, though it simultaneously rendered you utterly helpless to accept the battering of his cock as it rammed so far into you, you swore he would bruise your organs before the night was over.

The new position meant that Kyojuro’s base was pressed flush against your clit, the coarse hair of his groin circling against your sensitive nub as your own slick gathered, making a mess between where the two of you were joined. The stimulation made your toes curl, even as your feet flopped helplessly against Kyojuro’s broad back.

Whatever coil you felt winding tight in your gut, Kyojuro felt gathering as well, given the whimpers and moans that lilted from his lips in strings, his lips working a frenzy against whatever part of you he could reach.

“P-please, Y/N,” his voice broke through the pleasured haze in which you’d found yourself floating as you plummeted back down to earth; to him. “Please let me cum in you. Please.”

“God fucking – please,” Kyojuro groaned, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. “I need to fill you. I need it, I need it.”

You didn’t doubt the sincerity of his need; the dull thwap of Kyojuro’s heavy balls against the underside of your ass made it clear your friend was pent up, and desperate to find his release. And that release wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable if he was forced to waste it over your stomach or breasts as it would be if you allowed him to fill you to your brim.

The answer was easy. “Y-yes,” you found your voice after a moment, though it came out as more of a squeak. “Give it to me, Kyo, please!”

Kyojuro’s lascivious groans deepened, the sounds falling from his mouth more akin to shouts of pleasure. His pace quickened though his rhythm grew sloppier. Kyojuro brought the leg still anchored to the ground up onto the hood of the car and positioned himself in a kneel, spreading his thighs wide and allowing his hips to weigh down heavily against yours as he pinned you in place, rolling into your heat.

“Fill me up, make me yours!” You were babbling now, half-delirious with pleasure and over-stimulation as you felt your orgasm build, the tight coiling in your belly promising to unleash the most powerful climax you’d ever had. “N-no one else has – no one else has – ngh – finished inside!”

A warm hand slid up to your throat and squeezed lightly as Kyojuro’s hips snapped against yours, his groans quieting to mere vibrations in his chest. “Not even – fuck – him?”

You didn’t need to ask him to clarify. “Never!” You gasped, limbs turning to liquid against the light pressure he applied against the sides of your throat. “Only yours – only yours to f-fill!”

Your affirmation made Kyojuro shudder violently above you, and before you knew it, Kyojuro was spilling forth within your core, giving you every drop of his hot seed as his hips rolled heavily into yours.

A broad hand slid down from your throat to rest against the bottom of your stomach and pressed down.

“Take it,” Kyojuro somehow had the presence of mind to speak, even deep in the throes of his climax. “F-feel how much I’m filling you up – oh fuck.”

You could. The weight of his hand against your lower belly pressed your front wall against the spurting tip of his cock as he unloaded deep within your core. And it was precisely because of the way you could feel him painting the inside of your walls that you felt yourself tip over your edge, that coil in your belly not merely unwinding, but breaking wide open.

With a sharp cry, you came, a rush of your sticky pleasure spurting forth from you and soaking Kyojuro’s lower abdomen and groin as he continued to pump into you, every twist and churn of his base against your clit only prolonging the sweet, torturous pleasure you felt as you screamed for him.

Kyojuro’s high finally ceased, as did yours, but that did not stop your flame-haired friend from continuing to pump into you, as though chasing yet another dizzying high.

“Kyo,” your cry was shrill was your nails sunk into the ropey muscle of your best friend’s back, your teeth gritting against the flicker of overstimulation flaring to life as Kyojuro’s rough base continued to grind right against your clit.

“I’m sorry, my flame,” and to your shock, you noted the desperate whine in his tone. “I can’t stop, I need more – c-can’t stop –”

You felt his cum squelching over where you remained connected, its sticky warmth dribbling down your inner thighs as Kyojuro continued to plunge his still-erect length in and out of your full cunt.

“I want to get you pregnant,” Kyojuro confessed, his eyes burning as they flicked between where he appeared and disappeared inside you, to the way your tits bounced with each of his punishing thrusts, and back to your face. “I’ve been dreaming about it since I met you.”

“C-can’t tell you h-how many times I’ve imagined filling you with my seed until – fuck – you’re carrying my child.”

Some small, rational part of your brain genuinely did not know whether he was serious, and an even smaller part was baffled that you couldn’t find it within yourself to care one way or the other. The only reaction you gave him, instead, was a struggle of your legs against his grasp until he allowed you to wrap them around his hips to hold him close as he chased his second release of the night.

“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll pull out,” Kyojuro grunted, though, with the way he continued to thrust even harder into you, you doubted his ability to do so. “Just say the word.”

Admittedly, it was probably too late to worry about that, given that you could still feel the traces of his cum trickling out of you as he continued to ram his length into your spent core. But even if that ship hadn’t yet sailed, you knew you could not let him pull out; could never, not when he made you feel this good.

“Don’t you dare pull – ah – pull out,” you managed, legs tightening around his hips to keep him pinned against you. “I want it – I need it, Kyojuro. Give it to me.”

Your words were enough. With a strangled shout, Kyojuro came once more, his excess cum leaking out of your stuffed cunt, its hot stickiness trickling between your cheeks and pooling on the car hood beneath you, staining faded red with milky white. The cant of Kyojuro’s hips still did not cease as he continued fucking his seed right back into you, and you could do nothing but spread your thighs wider and accept it, mewling softly with your lips against his collarbone.

Kyojuro remained tense above you for several more seconds before he relaxed, his weight pressing you fully against the car hood as he collapsed against you. You both remained quiet for a moment, working to catch your breath.

“Are you alright?” your friend breathed after a moment, nuzzling your sweat-slickened neck affectionately.

You nodded, unable to stop the wide grin which formed on your face. “One would think you’d been waiting a long time to do that, Kyojuro,” you teased, arching your neck to expose more of your throat as his lips traced delicately across it.

“And if I have?” He murmured, pausing to suck lightly on the sensitive skin below your ear. “What would you say then?”

You threaded your fingers through unruly, golden hair and tugged lightly, pulling his face from the dip in your neck so that he would meet your eyes.

“I would say,” you began seriously, suppressing a giggle at the way Kyojuro’s eyebrows furrowed. “That you should probably take me home, then, because I’m not nearly done with you.”

Your fiery friend answered with a growl, low and deep in his chest as he rolled his hips into yours once more, his cock twitching back to life.

Instead of pressing you back against his car, Kyojuro instead flipped you to your stomach, your breasts smushing against the windshield of his car, the sweat clinging to your skin certain to leave behind a lewd outline of your body against the glass.

“You should probably buckle up then, my flame,” he said with a dark chuckle. “Because I’m afraid I can’t wait until I get you into my bed to have you yet again.”

#demon slayer #kyojuro rengoku #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #rengoku kny #rengoku kyojuro #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny rengoku #kny kyojuro #kny smut #demon slayer smut #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x reader

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lilmashae · 8 months

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SOMNO-FREAK — s.gj

[notes] no where near as "freaky" as i intended it to be, but i still like it alot !

[cw:] somnophilia, fingering (f), oral (f), established relationship, NOT

PROOFREAD, smut (so, 18+)

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it's a known fact that gojo gets home late — so late, you can't bear waiting up for him.

"don't worry about it, i'll be home late anyways." gojo hums over the phone and you'd just nod. you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss him — the two of you hardly see each other anymore. "okay, satoru. don't be too long, okay?" you yawn over the phone, "yeah, yeah, i know, pretty girl."

hours pass you by, each one spent with you tucked into bed, warm, watching television, waiting for the tall sorcerer to walk into your shared bedroom so you could pepper his face with kisses. however, with each passing hour your eyelids grew heavier — so much so that you found yourself drifting off into sleep, easily so.

"y/n! i'm here, and i brought—" gojo stops in his tracks seeing you lay before him with your hair perfectly wrapped, your shirt beautifully draped over every curve, and that soft, vulnerable expression painting your sleeping face. "cute." he mutters to himself, waltzing towards you — there you lay, peaceful and sweet. gojo kneeled by the bedside, his eyes monitoring your breaths through your heaving chest and his fingers began to dance and cup your cheeks. " 'couldn't stay up..? did i make you wait too long, will you be mad at me in the morning, my love?" a gentle kiss sauntered from your cheek to your jaw, then to your collar bone and stomach where he laid. " 'so pretty," his words reverberated on his soft, pinks and on to your skin, making you let out a huff of air in your unconscious state. the man's hands traveled under the over-sized shirt you wore, bunching the fabric (up) at your waist. he continued to litter kisses across the entirety of your stomach, tracing shapes and pawing at your hips while he nipped at your skin.

you and gojo had the discussion a few weeks ago, the one where you agreed to "touching" one another in their sleep. with his busy schedule, it was nonsensical for you or him to dispute considering the pleasure it'd bring, besides seeing gojo's wildly childish smile made you feel warm.

his fingers lingered, looped under the waist of your panties' waistband before peeling them off of you. the once chaste-kisses now spread a fiery-sensation to your sleeping body — a sticky, spit trail leading to your hot cunt where he placed a feathery kiss on your clit. even asleep, he felt good — sugary-kisses and small praises. it was only when his tongue met your slick-folds that your eyes fluttered open, hands reflexively flying to entangle in his hair. "s-satoru..." a breathy-whine pried from your lips. "sh, pretty girl... s'okay," his voice muffled against your cunt. if you weren't so tired you'd question his nonchalant attitude towards the situation, how he could tongue fuck you with such composure was beyond you. " 'feels s'good, 'toru... please!" a low chuckle vibrates against your core, adding pressure to the warm knotted-feeling in your belly. one of gojo's fingers prod at your entrance, his teeth and nose occasionally rutting into your clit as he sucked the skin between your drooling-cunt and your clit. "cum f'me, y/n... please?" slick coated his tongue and fingers as you came undone around him — soft whimpers, and moan escape your throat. the room is filled with breathy sighs and huffs of air. "did i make you wait?" you nod, leaning into his chest. "i'm sorry, princess." he laughs softly, stroking your head.

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my first time writing for jujutsu in a while! here are some guidelines and disclaimers! here's a p.s: i've received complaints about small fonts on larger fics, please let me know if there is a problem! thank you!

#lil-ma-shae #fem!reader #jjk #jjk smut #gojo satoru #gojo saturo smut #gojo #gojo smut #black!reader #poc!reader

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 years

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Servantly duties

A/N: I've been working on this on and off for like a month so I'm sorry if its no bueno! I was really just trying to finish it and am keen to work on kinktober!

TW: implied sexual harassment, chipped fingernail, aphrodisiac/ love potion trope, forced kissing/touching

Synopsis: as a human servant to a satyr god, you're forced to draw him a bath and fall to his whims.

Word Count:4000

Being a servant for a deity and their court was not as glamorous as it may have seemed. “Yes your highness” this, and “of course my lord” that; you were just thankful that satyrs were a lively race. Especially considering their knacks for magic and devious enchantments, not to mention their selfishly lustful acts. But you, you had the special task of taking care of a very important one. A god. Though the god himself was not very powerful nor crucial to most creatures, in the hierarchy of his race he was the most grand.

After getting caught stealing from his altar out of desperation, you were condemned to work in the prime temple as a servant. You were shown mercy partly due to the gods laziness, and mostly because the being took a strange, licentious liking to you. Besides nymphs, humans were one of the most sought after creatures by satyrs, and it was not very often that one of the two would strut into such a dangerous territory. If it weren’t for the deity keeping you at his side, you probably would’ve been taken by one of his subjects. Satyrs never had a filter on their ravenous sexuality, only god knows what would’ve happened if they got their claws on you. But, it's not like the deity was any better.

Though your servitude was a punishment, you grew accustomed to your life here. You swallow your pride in order to avoid the gods wrath, hoping someday to be free of serving such voracious creatures. A snide comeback wasn’t worth being cursed for the rest of your life. He was still a deity, after all. So, you bite your tongue and do your duties. You were constantly at his beck and call to refill a glass of wine, to clean up after a luxurious party, or to wave a fan. The work never ended.

You recalled the orders from earlier.

"Dearest, I want a bath this evening. Make it nice, I only want you in my company." he purred to you.

You responded accordingly, but saw the way he looked at you. You were sure that he was planning some dastardly crude idea to get you to fall for him.

You were brought out of your thoughts by a searing pain, accidentally touching the burning pot in front of you. You retracted your hand as fast as lightning from the boiling water. The small fire underneath it had been slowly dying but yet the pail stayed piping hot. Picking up the handle, you delicately rose it from the fireplace. The metal handle dug into your skin as the weight of the water became nearly too much to carry. But you continued walking towards the large bath.

Reaching the basin, you took the thick cloth in your pocket and held the bottom of the pail, dumping it into the bath. The steam quickly diminished as the hot liquid mixed with the water already placed in the tub.

You hummed to yourself as you picked up a bottle of rose oil. You smelled it for a moment, savoring the sweet scent you'd likely never be able to experience fully. Small drips of the liquid fell into the bath, the smell becoming more potent the more it dripped. Setting it back down you took the few flowers surrounding the bathtub and began to peel them. The dried petals fell into the water elegantly. You snuck a few smaller ones into your pocket, watching the door in case the deity appeared.

You got up to find the clothes you put on the bed earlier, grabbing them and turning slowly to the basin again; The labor of the day was finally hitting you yet it was nice to have a moment alone. But your slack shoulders didn’t stay at ease for long; the sound of the bedroom door swinging open made you tense up again, hurrying to bring the clothing into the bathroom.

“Oh dearest human,” a sing-songy voice called. “Is my bath ready yet?” You heard the rustling of fabric come from the bedroom as you tripped over yourself to get to the door.

“Yes, my lord.” You cleared your throat, looking as you saw what was in front of you.

The satyr deity, Philon, was currently eyeing you with a grin. He had already tossed off his satchel, his dirty tunic clearly next. To say the god was bulky was an understatement. His race was not all that different from humans, but his huge stature and animalistic features said otherwise. The deity status was not one that made him any less intimidating, either. He easily towered over you, peering down while his furry ears twitched and his hazel eyes twinkled. You had helped dress the satyr on multiple occasions and occasionally tended to his bath, but it was always with other servants or worshippers. Now, you were given the task to handle him alone. You couldn't even imagine it.

He completely shattered any line of professionalism to the point where you didn't know whether to take his flirty words seriously, to refute them, or to fall to his whims out of fear for your life. Some of the other servants believed Philon was trying to court you. From the way he pursued you longer than any other creature that caught his eye, and how he dismissed any other satyr from touching you, it did look suspicious. But you wouldn't believe it; after all his games and his sickeningly sweet remarks, you believed you were just another distraction until he got bored.

"Finally," the god released a groan, stretching his arms as he began to disrobe. "Feels like I've been out in that forest for ages."

He noticed you watching as he pulled leaves out of his long hair, undoing the intricate weaving you prepared this morning. Small pieces of gold and little jewels were still strung in his locks. He smirked, staring back at you as he stroked his hair.

"See something you like?"

You looked away quickly.

"I apologize for staring," you mumbled, embarrassed and trying to gesture to the bathroom. He was so full of himself. "Please my lord, your bath is ready."

Philon grinned, strutting past you.

As he made his way to the bath, the god began untying his once white tunic. It had been stained with spilt wine and dirt, remnants that surely came from the loud festival outside. But he stopped for a moment, watching you stand there without following.

"Well come on now, these clothes aren't going to come off themselves!" The satyr said with a hearty laugh.

You swallowed harshly. At Least being ravaged by a deity was better than any old satyr, you thought to yourself. The all male race had definitely not been easy to deal with. Everyone was still outside the temple, busy celebrating this year's harvest thanks to Philon; he was usually the last one standing when it came to celebrations of himself.

You walked as slow as you could to the large porcelain bath. Philon sat on the edge of it and stuck a finger in the warm water, swirling it around as petals stuck to his skin. The pleasant aroma of the bath helped ease your nerves.

He watched you shuffle in, poorly hiding a devious smirk behind his hand. Your shaky hands begin to undo the knot that he had clearly re-tied.

You felt him staring down at you as warm breath hitting the top of your head. Your fingers struggled with the knot, sweat dripping down your brow as his stare grew intense. But he didn't stop you. Fumbling until your fingernail split, you successfully undid the knot. A small sacrifice to keep your dignity. You were glad the satyr didn’t seem to notice.

At the removal of the knot, the rest of the satyr’s clothes came undone. His chiton fell to the floor gracefully piling around his feet. You had seen the deity in all his naked glory before, but for some reason this time it felt different. Maybe it was because you were the only one who had his attention. Or maybe, it was because it felt like he was burning holes into your face with how hard he was looking for your reaction.

You ignored him, picking up the loose fabric that smelled of sweat and sweet wine to put in a small basket. Philon stepped into the tub, letting out an audible groan at feeling the water pool around his legs. You jumped at hearing him, the sensual noise catching you off guard. The lord lowered himself into the bath of petals and sweet smells as he waited for you to tend to him. Picking up the basket of clothes, you intended to get out as fast as you could. Bowing shortly you skittered towards the door.

“Wait a minute,” the satyr beckoned you with a finger, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t think you’re done, do you? How am I supposed to get clean?”

He lifted his furry hoof, water dripping off of his lower half as you looked away; you were tempted to roll your eyes. Of course he wanted you to clean him. You reluctantly set down the basket, coming closer to the bath. You prayed to any other deities that could hear you, hoping they would save you from such a fate.

But alas, nothing stopped you as you found a clean washcloth on the table behind the bath, near the flower oils and a bar of soap. You quickly grabbed it, dipping the washcloth in the bath water and furiously rubbing the chunk of lye. Maybe if you rushed, he wouldn’t have time to try and mess with you, right? That was the only hope you could cling to.

But as soon as you were ready to begin bathing him, you froze. This was going to be a lot harder than you thought. You thanked the gods that bubbles covered his lower half, but his bare, dripping chest and biceps still sat before you.

“Start with my shoulders,” He commanded, resting his arms on the bath’s rim. “I’ve got a terrible ache.”

You bit your tongue and shimmied on your knees to the other side of the bath. “Of course.”

His back was as clean as you’d expect of a god who lazed all day. The nape of his neck was slick with sweat and water, a flurry of freckles dotting his back; they almost seemed to form constellations. You brought the washcloth to his shoulders, feeling his muscles vibrating under your touch. The small divots and hills of his skin were smooth against your fingertips. Before you knew it you had soaped up his shoulders and back completely. He had let out a few, throaty groans at your work but you were too preoccupied to notice. The satyr let out a blissful sigh as he turned upward to look at you.

“Don’t think your work is done yet, my little dove,” Philon grinned from upside down, fingers reaching out to graze your lips. He left your cheek wet with soap suds as you stayed put, mostly out of surprise. He cupped your cheek as you dared not to lean in or move away.

He then pointed to his head, the long reddish brown strands swaying as he moved. You were dazed for a moment until it clicked, your eyes lighting up with relief. Perhaps, all he really wanted was a bath? Maybe your hope was turning to delusion.

You grabbed a fancy glass bottle, remembering from having seen it a thousand times while cleaning. You assumed that it was the right one for hair, and poured its contents. Lathering it in your hands, you came to find Philon’s hair was already wet, likely done by the deity in order to speed the process up. You could tell he was growing impatient.

You began from the top of his skull down to the tips of his long locks, thoroughly massaging the suds into his head. You got to the sides near his long, furry ears, rubbing the soap in as you heard him release another groan. They seemed nearly unintentional; the deity's eyes were shut as he let you mold him, his body lax.

You were careful to avoid his horns, their presence hindering your scrubbing. They were one of the few traits that defined the satyr. Other than his horns and ears, from the waist up you'd think he was human. Well, nearly. His kind tended to grow more hair and fur than humans, and this one in particular had the blood of a god flowing through his veins.

You cupped the deity's chin and leaned his head back lightly, cupping water in your hands to wash out the lavender scented soap. He leaned his head backward and brought your arm to his chest.

Your hand went limp in his, afraid for a moment. You allowed yourself to keep washing the soap suds as he stroked your palm. Philon’s fingers messed with yours, prying open your hand that was balled into a fist. Warm, wet hands tickled your wrist as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

You swiftly finished rinsing the soap, getting up to busy yourself with finding the rag you left somewhere. You swore you left it on the table only a few feet away. But before you could figure out the location of the rag, you felt your arm tugged by a slimy hand.

"What's this?" Philon asked. He observed your broken nail. "What happened?"

You watched as he stroked your pointer finger, looking closely at the crack that divided your fingernail.

"Just an accident. It doesn't impede my work." You said matter-of-factly.

"Well I can't have you working with an injury like this. It could get infected, you know. "

"But the soap--"

He put a finger to your lips, talking over you.

"No buts. In fact, I think this needs to be taken care of now before you injure yourself more."

You were unable to protest as he pulled your arms into the tub. Before you knew it, he had dragged you entirely in, making you let out a yelp as he embraced you with his arms. Your clothes quickly soaked as you flailed.

Philon chuckled as shock and surprise fled your eyes. You bit your tongue to prevent from giving him a piece of your mind, not daring to extend your servitude sentence any longer. But boy, did you want to bite his head off.

"Awe, what's with the frown?" He grabbed your chin, twisting your face to admire the scowl you held. "glad I was able to make you wet, though."

You couldn't help but cringe, feeling the satyr grip your backside, both to hold you up and to cup a feel. You assumed you looked like a wet cat about now.

"My lord, how am I supposed to do my work like this?" you said between gritted teeth.

The satyr kept grinning at you cheekily.

"I can't have you getting hurt again on my watch. You can keep washing me in the bath." He leaned back in the tub, waiting for you to make your move.

Looking at his chest, you realized what he expected. He was still holding you, rubbing his large hands on your knees as you unintentionally straddled his waist. You didn't waste any time wondering what the protruding thing beneath you was.

At a loss for words, you decided to just keep working. Still holding onto the delusional hope of being able to finish quickly and leaving, you leaned forward to grab the soap from behind the Satyr.

The awkward positioning reminded you just how odd and wrong this situation was. He was a deity, a forest spirit who could banish you to never step foot in a grassy plain in the region again; he could take you if he so pleased, nothing in his presence able to stop him from claiming you as many times as he wanted.

It wasn't your place to be here, in a bath big enough to hold three, of which barely fit the both of you from the sheer size of the satyr. He touched you as if you were a lover, softly, taking in every crack and blemish in your skin. But that touch was also filled with authority; the way he touched you without looking for your acknowledgement, proved to you he knew there were no consequences.

Philons’ hand traveled up your hip, caressing your side as you extended to grab the bar of soap. You nearly had it, but it was still out of reach. He merely watched as you struggled to grab it. You were too engrossed in reaching the slick bar of soap to see him come up close to you, breath tickling the hairs of your neck. A soft kiss was planted below your ear, the satyrs’ hand coming up to caress your jaw.

You slipped without warning, which planted you face-first into his chest. Your nose burned from hitting his sternum so roughly, making your eyes tear up. His flush skin pressed on yours made you scramble up immediately, feet scurrying in the water to get off of him. Grabbing your hands he steadied you as you stuttered.

"I'm so sorry!" You cried. While the satyr made your skin crawl, you still felt bad about planting yourself right between his tits.

"Calm down," Philon chuckled, steadying you on his lap. "I never realized how much of a skittish little thing you were." You tensed as he brought your hand with the soap bar up to his chest. "Guess that's one more thing I enjoy about you."

His words nearly made you vomit. But the soap! You managed to grab it during the fall. The satyr almost looked disappointed when you ignored him and found the rag once more, watching you scrub the lye bar. Philon adjusted his legs beneath you, groaning as he "accidentally" grinded upward to get more comfortable. You would've scrambled off his lap by now if it weren't for his hands holding your damp hips.

Rubbing Philon’s chest in a methodical motion, you watched as the cloth began to make white bubbles on his tanned skin. His ears twitched and you swore if he wasn't in the bath, you would see his tail doing the same. The deity was waiting in anticipation, licking his lips as he felt your soft hands on his torso. He panted, flexing his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. You sighed and looked up at him to see what all the fuss was.

But his mouth was on you before you could ask. His forehead knocked against yours as he kissed you with a salivating mouth. Philon moved fast, pushing you backwards in the bath and pressing you against it; the water sloshing outside of the basin didn't stop him. Your arms stuck out awkwardly with your hands still holding the rag and soap.

"Mmn…! I can't help myself anymore--" he cut himself off with a kiss to the side of your mouth, voice hoarse and impatient. "I tried to give you time… let you come to me to spare my pride, but I can't … can't wait any longer. "

You squealed against his mouth, surprised and desperate for air. You knew the god would pounce, just unsure of when. And now was not the most convenient time. His soapy chest pressed into yours and dampened the rest of your clothes; his hands gripped hard onto the tub as he tried to get on top of you. His furry legs tickled yours under the water, ears flicking against your cheek as he smothered you with affection. He really had been holding back.

"My lord--" your voice cracked as you tried to press yourself deeper into the tub to create space. Philon took the challenge, pressing harder. "Please this is no way to behave-!" You were cut off with a kiss as he straddled your waist and forced your hands into his hair. The rows and rows of indents that formed his curled horns were smooth in your hands; Philon moaned into your mouth each time you ran your hands down them to push him off. You twisted away from his mouth, biting his lip for an extra measure.

"Why don’t you understand, I don't want this! Leave me alone!”

He laughed, belittling you with just one condescending look.

"I love the chase,” He licked his lip. "I think you'll find yourself yearning for me soon."

"What?"

Philon reached for a fragile bottle of wine on the counter of soaps and oils. You never had the pleasure of tasting such a delicacy but have witnessed its effects on those who drank it. It was a well-known aphrodisiac in the region, and you wouldn't be caught dead drinking such a thing around a satyr. Nonetheless this bastard.

He eyed you, taking a sip but not yet swallowing. You fought to get out of his grasp now that his other hand was preoccupied; he managed to hold you down with his forearm, pushing it across your chest to keep you tucked against the bath. The water was beginning to grow cold, bubbles having disintegrated and the fragrant smells starting to diminish. The flower petals had long since dissolved, turning the water a rosy red.

He threw the empty bottle to the floor with a clang, using his now free hand to try to pry open your mouth. As much as you stayed stubborn, you couldn't help but release a gasp when his long nails dug into your thigh.

Philon slammed his mouth onto yours, forcing the wine down your throat and against your tongue.Tears welled in your eyes and your nose began to burn. The satyrs inhuman leg pressed itself against your crotch as your hands twisted into his.

Letting go of your mouth with a wet "pop," philon came to recover your lips with his hand, nearly suffocating you.

"Swallow. Swallow it." He looked at you with expectant eyes. "Be a good little human now."

You couldn't breathe, water sloshing next to your ears while the large creature forced himself onto you. For the satyr though, he couldn't get enough. The water dripped down your chest, your collar slightly open as you breathed heavily. You groaned against his fingers, just like he always wanted.

You swallowed the thick, fermented juice, only out of fear for your life. The male let go as you gasped for air.

"I'm going to make you give yourself to me." He said, as your chest heaved and your hands tried to push him back. "When you're desperate and drooling in only a few moments, you'll have to beg me to touch you."

You promised yourself you wouldn't, that you would keep that small sliver of dignity no matter how dire the situation was, no matter how badly you wanted to return home. But the wine was already starting to take effect. You felt it in your fingers and toes, ones that tingled and went numb. Your chest ached and a warm feeling spread down your stomach.

"You're already feeling it, aren't you?"

The aphrodisiac was beginning to take its course. Your muscles tensed as your body grew restless; Philon watched with a sadistic glint in his eyes. He stayed true to his words, refusing to touch you until you began to squirm. You put your hand to your crotch, trying to suppress the growing urge inside of you. The sweet aftertaste of the wine still lingered in your mouth. Philon growled, ears twitching and flicking the gold pieces embedded in his horns and hair. The wine was beginning to take its hold on him, too. Not that he would’ve needed it in the first place.

He panted, running his smooth fingertips down your wet clothes. You felt sticky and hot and impatient, breathing heavily as something inside you made you thirsty. Philon squeezed your chest with hungry hands; you could see the lust beginning to take over his snide expression, his normally insatiable libido somehow growing worse.

“you're going to be begging on your knees for me.“

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k-4-ni · 10 months

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‼️Poll winner #2 ‼️

summary: your lieutenant is aggressively nurturing you back to health.

[ Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f!reader ] SFW

"What were you thinking?" Simon hissed, his voice scrambled and muffled from behind the midst layer of his mask, Nonetheless, you could still sense that tinge of irritation as if he wanted to knock some sense into you with his fist.

His gloved hands toiled to bandage the wound on your arm, leaving a slim trail of goose bumps on your skin, you hated it, loathed the way he made you feel, you weren't supposed to feel anything around your lieutenant, yet again... Who can't?

"Are you some kind of suicidal? Throwing yourself in front of the bullet like that.." He kept his lingering gaze on your expression as if piercing through your soul, his eyes roamed your features, the way your lips tightened into a small frown, the way your cheeks flushed with a deep red hue out of humiliation.

You dared not to look up, an overwhelming sensation of embarrassment and regret filling your thoughts, how could you jump in front of a bullet like that? Were you really that desperate to save a life?

"I'm sorry, sir... Didn't want any of my comrades getting shot."

You murmured, a tight scowl curling your lips as you lowered your gaze, fixating it on the ground instead and the way your boots glisten against the light, hoping to ignore and bottle up the small voice at the back of your head.

You slightly winced, flinching at his harsh comment and his aggressive fingers, you could feel the heat and anger radiating off of him, his words bitter and harsh.

With a low, irritated sigh, Ghost peeled off his gloved hands from her bandage to gaze her down with those dark, brooding eyes of his. He yearned to say something better but it was as if he fought to restrain himself for an unknown reason. Rather, he leaned back, taking a knee on the ground next to her, eyes still latched on her.

"What were you doing over there?" the lieutenant questioned with an inkling of nuisance and sincerity in his voice.

His voice rang through your ears, you kicked your feet together, nails digging into the leather of the medical cot.

Where you going to tell him? Did he deserve to know? Sure, he's your lieutenant but he sure wasn't your therapist, Save yourself the embarrassment and stay quiet, he probably doesn't even care.

"I—Im afraid I cant tell you..."

You choked out, Your eyes fluttering ever so slightly as you felt a lump of nerves forming in your throat, Denying your lieutenants orders? Rookie mistake.

The lieutenant narrowed his dark blue eyes, his head cocked to the side as he studied her. His gloved hand lifted to his chin as his lips curled into a frown, a hoarse groan erupting from his throat.

"Soldier, are you refusing my orders?" the lieutenant questioned, the tone in his voice stirring slightly.

In that moment, that skin-crawling moment, things seemed to slow. It felt as if this moment dragged on while Ghost shelved for your response.

"N-No, sir, of course not!"

Your eyes grew wide with uneasiness, your lip quake as you shook your head.

"I-Its just—... It's the captain's orders... He told me not to tell anyone what happened before I got shot."

An amused, low chuckle was heard spewing from Ghost. Practically in a way, it even sounded…flirtatious..? Perhaps that was just your imagination. Regardless of what it was, it still caused all sorts of emotions to flare across your body.

"Well, captain isn't here so what happened, soldier." Ghost repeated, a slight edge to his voice as he spoke.

Shit.shit.shit.shit.shit

"Sir... I'm afraid I can't— it's captain's orders he would penalize me if he found out."

You peered up at him with virtually pleading eyes, eyes flickering with disquiet as your pupil swallowed your iris, your eyes glinting with an uneasy shimmer.

Please don't ask, please don't ask, please don't ask.

Ghost's gloved hand reached out and held her chin, tilting her head up to face him. His gloved thumb rubbed against her jawline. The lieutenant's features were mostly covered but from this position, she was able to see more of his face. From her position, she saw the euphoric side of his face.

He came off to stare into her eyes in silence, his thumb still looming over her chin, his bleak eyes taking in her appearance.

"What happened." He said, practically a command than a question.

You hung back, a long moment, a long moment lingered with silence between us, your ears rang as your breath hitched in your throat, was this real? You were probably just hallucinating.

Your eyes softened, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips curled into a tight frown, your fingers dug into the leather material of the medical cot, a thick lump forming in your throat as you swallowed harshly.

This was really happening, your lips parted slightly and your cheeks burnt with a tingling sensation.

"He—... He scolded me about some skills I lacked in, at that moment I felt—... Like I wasn't enough so I just wanted to prove him wrong."

Fuck. Now that you blurted it out it does sound quite... Reckless.

Ghost took notice as you shared your side of the story. Your lieutenant was quiet for a beat, his eyes flickering around her, watching over her face, her eyes, her lips. His gloved hand slid down from her chin, to the bed. He placed his hand on her thigh, gripping it firmly.

"So you ran ahead of your commander, into enemy fire, to prove yourself?" he questioned, his manner of voice implying scepticism as he spoke.

Your eyes flickered between his hand, your breath catching in your throat as his fingers firmly grasped your thigh, your ears perked up as you lifted your gaze into his hollow eyes.

His eyes were piercing into your soul, almost intoxicating nevertheless a sense of danger flushed over you, your body telling you to run yet your throbbing pulse was telling you to stay.

"I-I didn't know what else to do... It— it seemed like the perfect opportunity to prove him wrong."

He leaned forward, his gloved hand lifting to cup her jaw. He gazed down at her, his eyes seeming to pierce into her core as he spoke. The lieutenant's expression was stern, his eyes ostensibly taking in every segment across her face.

"You should never try to prove yourself by running into danger. Not in this line of work," Ghost let out, with the edge of pest in his tone varying to concern.

"I-Isnt that what I signed up for, sir?"

Your lips parted once more and your chest tightened, your breath coming in erratic and broken, you thickly swallowed down the butterflies that threatened to twist and churn your guts, as if they were clawing their way up to your throat.

The lieutenant sighed and leaned back into his seat. "You did sign up for it, yes but that doesn't mean you run into danger just to prove yourself," he said, the frown on his face softening as he spoke.

The lieutenant reached out and his gloved hand caressed her cheek, "You proved how stubborn you are, soldier, but next time..."

His eyes flickered down to his hand placed on her cheek. "Next time, remember that you're putting yourself, your life, not a mission — your life at risk."

You were dazed, just a simple touch from his hand sent your knees weak and your mind blank, you mindlessly nodded to his words, your fingers clenching by your sides.

The lump in your throat would not stop developing, your eyebrows raised ever so slightly as you nodded once more, your eyes still peering up at him as you batted your lashes.

Your lips parted, your chest trembling with each struggled breath.

"O—Okay... Y-Yes sir..."

Ghost stayed silent for a moment. His thumb brushed against her upper lip, feeling her soft lips. His eyes seemed to go blank for a moment, the lieutenant's mind going into overdrive. In the moment, he wanted to kiss her. His lips parted, the urge to do it slowly grew, causing all sorts of emotions to swell inside his body. And yet....he couldn't.

Something... unexpected happened to the lieutenant. His gaze flicked down again to her lips... Her soft, inviting... lips. He almost forgot he was supposed to be lecturing her. With the soldier underneath him, her body beneath his arm, he was close... very close to just... losing control.

Ghost's gloaming eyes took in her appearance once more, his looks flicking up to hers. His gloved hand slid back down to her thigh, holding on. Ghost took a deep breath and leaned forward, his lips mere inches away from hers.

The lieutenant cleared his throat, his eyes snapping back to reality. He placed both his hands on his knees.

"We better head back," he said with a slight shake of his head.

What the fuck.

#ghost #tumblr #new writers on tumblr #scenario #writer #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #Cod #modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #video games #Sfw #Slight tension #tension #sfw little post

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poeticpascal · 11 months

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Nightmare (Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: Every night, Y/N's screams are heard throughout Jackson. Her nightmares haunt her in the darkness, but when she meets an equally plagued Joel Miller, they find safety together.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: nightmares, PTSD, panic attacks, mentions of violence, reader kills a clicker, mentions of traumatic past, angst with a fluffy ending

A/n: Hi all! Thank you so much for coming by to read my fic. This is my first Joel fic, and actually my first fic posted on Tumblr in a few years now. I'm so excited about this, and I can't wait to carry on writing for Joel - so get your requests in!

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She wasn’t quite sure when the nightmares started.

It was always the same decrepit faces and monstrous forms that had once hunted her each day, the memories bleeding into the night, every night. For so long that even now, from the safety of her small apartment in Jackson where she grew strawberries on her balcony and tended to the horses at the yard, she couldn’t shake the lucidity of the horrors she’d faced.

It made her feel weak. Everybody in Jackson had lived through the outbreak. They’d all surely ran from the monsters, or looters. They’d all scavenged and prayed and survived for this long. They’d all lost someone.

And yet it was only her screams that rang through the streets each night.

The community were understanding for the most part - when she’d first arrived in Jackson a few years ago, it had been Tommy who stayed with her through the night, keeping watch and holding a warm flannel to her head when she cried. Maria would brew tea, made with sweet herbs and honey, to help calm her as the evening rolled in. She never understood the couple’s kindness; of all the folk in their town, she was the least deserving of such generosity. They told her otherwise.

Joel Miller arrived not long after she did, actually. He was plagued too, by the ghosts of his past, and they related to each other in that way. He didn’t scream like she did, his throat wasn’t hoarse and sore each morning; his pain was silent, overwhelming, pouring from him in sweat and tears that forced their way out and painted his skin.

Their friendship was immediate, their… something following straight after. Neither knew what to call it - just an inclination towards one another, drawn together and deeply at home in each other’s presence. They were almost weary of the intensity of it, how two strangers felt so suddenly overcome with partnership, but the first night she slept in his bed marked something deeper than either of them expected.

It was innocent; Joel had come to visit her at the stables, as he often did on Saturday afternoons. It was their ‘thing’. And though neither of them would say it, that small pocket of togetherness was the most endeared part of their week. He wouldn’t say much, mostly grunting as she talked to show her he was listening, but he’d stay for hours and when evening came, kiss her cheek and walk her home. On that particular Saturday, as they walked home saying not much at all but holding a sweet silence between them, they heard the thunder crack above and a flash of lightning strike. Joel’t go to all the trouble while secretly hoping he’d never stop.

Joel guided her to his house, it was closer. He found warm clothes, draped her in his fuzzy cardigan that was fresh from the dryer, and brewed tea on the stove while she insisted he needn’t go to all the trouble while secretly hoping he’d never stop.

He’d been so gentle with her, slowly peeling back the covers and allowing her to nestle in, before tucking the sides of his sheets under the mattress until he was satisfied she was secure. It was a small act, one he ultimately knew would never protect anyone if danger arose; but safety was a ration he often couldn’t afford, and he bought it where he could.

“Stay.”

He knew she’d ask. She knew he’d agree. It had all been for show really - his offer to take the couch, hers to make her way back home. They both knew they’d end up here, and neither knew what to make of the way their synchronous feelings, how so much discussion could seemingly be had without barely a word being spoken. They just aligned; no secrecy, no other intent. Just two people, who for so long believed their only way forward was alone, suddenly so intertwined in one another that ear-against-chest, arms-over-waist, was the default they had no inclination to oppose.

Her bliss that night, in Joel’s embrace, had pushed the nightmares to the back of her mind as she drifted off beside him. But they were there, they were always there. Waiting for her relentless walls to stand unguarded as sleep took over her mind. Joel was downstairs when it happened. He’d had to leave the bed; his nightmares found him just as easily. Slowly, regrettably, untangling her limbs from his and ensuring her comfort before toeing downstairs and bracing himself against the coffee table, he’d been steadying his beating heart for what felt like hours before her screams rang out and his adrenaline shot skyward. He sprinted upstairs, barging into the bedroom where she lay there, alone, crynig and thrashing against invisible restraints.

For all his brooding, silence and gritty composure, Joel was floored. He knew she was troubled, that the horrors of the outbreak had scarred her more than most, he didn’t quite catch on to just how plagued she was until now, as the sheer terror in her screams seemed to almost manifest in dark shadows and shapes above her. He crept forward, slowly starting to call her name, unsure if he should touch her, shake her awake, or just speak into the darkness and hope his voice gets through. He sat on the bed, raised a shaky hand - not yet recovered from his own panic attack just minutes earlier - and gently pushed the matted hair from her forehead. She reacted to the touch, arching her back and crying “no, no, please no.”

Joel grimaced, retracting his hand and saying her name again, more desperate this time. He panicked, so scared and so unsure, reaching for his phone and frantically clicking through his contacts before finding what he was looking for. The phone rang just once, before the receiver picked up and mumbled a sleepy, “Joel?”

“Tommy - you need to get here.”

--------

The stable visits stopped after that night. She’d watch the clock as it ticked, the evening sky hanging ever-heavier over the sun’s horizon, hours passing and no sign of Joel. It was only when the stable manager, an elderly man who had his fair share of tragedy, insisted it was time to go that she packed up her things and wandered home alone.

It had been three weeks since then.

Three Saturday’s spent alone in the yard. Three Fridays of being sat at the pub, drinking with Tommy and Maria as she did most weeks, but with a piece missing this time. Three weeks of closing her eyes, imagining his embrace, but succumbing to her demons all the same. It seemed almost worse now, since that night at Joel’s house.

It was a Thursday, when her slot on patrol rolled up. She was able to do it less now, what with her time spent at the stables, but her skills made her valuable on the outskirts of town and more than anything, she felt indebted to the people of Jackson. Those who had homed her, and fed her, and protected her from herself.

It was usually an easy gig. Spend the day hiking, occasionally reacting to rustles or strange sounds, quickly realising it was just an animal of some kind. Deer, typically; they’d grown in population in the forests around Jackson in recent years.

That’s why, when a quiet grunt-type noise came through the forest, she’d reacted with haste, but less concern. And when the clicker appeared, stumbling towards emitting painful groans, she seized up, afraid and paralysed by the overwhelm of her senses the thing brought. Its smell was pungent, encapsulating. Its appearance was just as sordid as the rest, a living corpse overrun by infection. And by God, she could taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue, a memory of each and every run in she’d had with these creatures.

Her sudden freeze didn’t last long; she’d lived like this for years, and as if on auto-pilot, not really pulling the controls herself, she shot the thing dead in a matter of seconds. But that didn’t mean it was over. It was never over, and her skin pricked so tightly it felt like tiny needles piercing her body again and again. She ran back through the town’s gates, reported what she’d seen, and hurried home in a trance-like state. It was still the day time, late afternoon at best, but the horrors of her every night had encroached into the daylight and found its grasp.

She hadn’t moved from her spot against the door since she arrived home. She’d managed to unlock it despite her shaking hands, locked it back up from the inside and employed the deadbolts she hadn’t used for months now, then fell against the drywall and slid down in a haze. Nothing was safe anymore. Not the plants she grew, or the animals she cared for. Not the people she knew in this town. Not the ones she loved. And God, all she wanted was him. It was the first time she’d truly acknowledged a real love for him in her mind, and it came at the worst time when nothing felt right and all she could think was how she needed him, how she needed to protect him, and how she wished he was there protecting her. Her sight clouded, dark shadows all-encompassing, and screams crawled from her throat in the same way they did in her sleep except now she was awake, she felt the ache in her throat, and she couldn’t stop the cries from making it worse.

Memories sped through her vision like a slide show, so real that she’d have believed she was in each moment, had it not been for the way they all intermingled with one another and melted into a movie of atrocity. The blood, and the fear, and the banging. There was banging. It was loud and incessant, piercing her ears and heightening the tension as she buried her face into her knees and screamed her lungs out. The banging continued, heavy and unforgiving, and suddenly she heard her name. Clear, loud, distressed. It was her name, and it was almost spoken by a familiar voice, except her ears were full and her whole body was shaking and-

Her front door collapsed in, a plume of dust erupting where it fell. She shrieked, pushing herself backwards through the hall, eyes open but seeing nothing at all. Hands grabbed her, with less aggression than she anticipated, and through the chaos a gentle but panicked voice emerged.

“Y/N, Y/N baby please, you gotta hear me. You’re okay, honey. I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

Something seemed to click, and her sharp cries became full-bodied sobs. Her previously hyper-tense frame caved in on itself, collapsing into Joel’s arms as he placed his chin over her head, enveloping as much of her as he could and whispering over again that he had her.

He rocked her, back and forth, back and forth. His thighs burned, still crouched down in her hallway, but he barely noticed. Only she mattered to him, in that moment and in every other, and as her wailing ceased and only a shivering frame remained, he could only remember one other time he’d held anybody this tightly.

She was so exhausted, if he hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought she was drunk. Her legs failed her as he tried to stand up, so he scooped her up and carried her to her room. He didn’t change her, or make the bed, or check the temperature; none of that mattered. He only laid her down, and wrapped her softly in bedding that smelled so much sweeter than his own. He lay beside her, pulling her shaking form into him, sighing in relief as he felt her nose nuzzle the crux of his neck.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was weak, more of a squeak than anything else. Joel held her tighter, kissing the top of her head again and again, all but burying himself in her.

“No, baby. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I saw one.”

“I know.”

Silence.

She trusted him, and his calmness reassured her. Like if he thought things were okay, they would be. The tightness in her chest eased, the trembling simmered, though her body felt weak and empty as he rubbed the small of her back with one hand and cradled her head with the other.

“We’re okay.”

Joel said nothing else. Somehow, in their synchronicity, he knew he didn’t need to.

#joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x reader #Joel miller x yn #Pedro pascal x y/n #Joel miller x you #Pedro pascal x you #tlou #tlou show #tlou hbo

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pleasinghellfire · 1 year

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Sickness

summary: Eddie takes care of you after you get sick

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is an idea i got based off an asmr audio i found on tiktok, click here for the audio. i do not own the end dialogue. i took the dialogue from the beginning script from the lord of the fallen announcement video joseph was apart of.

You knew when you started to feel it last night, that tiny ache behind your eye slowly turning into a full migraine. Even when you were becoming nauseous from the familiar smell of smoke and alcohol surrounding you, you stayed the entirety of Corroded Coffin’s set with a smile on your face, cheering the loudest among the small group of drunks. You never missed any of Eddie’s shows and a couple of coughs or sneezes weren’t going to stop your support for your talented boyfriend.

Waking up this morning, you felt like a whole truck hit you and it was aimed directly at your sinuses. The throbbing in your head became a painful full force bang and you couldn’t breathe out of your nose. You were shivering and burning up at the same time, sweat coating your skin with a dull shine.

Peeling your eyes open, you groaned at the sunlight that was peeking through the band tapestry covering the main window in Eddie’s bedroom. You shut your eyes and pulled Eddie’s cover over your head, shielding yourself from the light.

“Sweetheart?” You heard Eddie’s raspy morning voice mumble beside you. You whimpered back to tell him you were listening. “Are you okay?”

Eddie carefully lifted the blanket off your head. You shook your head no and buried your face into your pillow, tucking your legs into yourself to keep the last of body warmth safe from the chilly air.

“Come here, let me see love.” Eddie gently whispered. He knew when you got like this that loud noises only made it worse. Eddie was always gentle and caring when you ever felt poorly and you loved him for that.

Gradually, you sat up and leaned against the wall behind you. You kept your eyes closed tightly as Eddie tamed your bed head and softly placed his palm against your forehead and cheeks to check your temperature.

“Holy shit baby, you’re really burning up.” Eddie’s eyes grew in worry as he felt how warm your head was. He started to feel guiltily as he wondered if you caught some kind of bug last night at the Hideout.

You groaned and laid your head on Eddie’s shoulder keeping your eyes shut against the world.

“How are you feeling right now?” Eddie kept his voice below a whisper knowing you could hear him from how close you were curled up against him.

“I feel snuffy and very icky. My head hurts so much and I’m really cold.” You sniffed. Eddie could hear how sore your throat must have felt.

“Okay, we’re staying home today. I’m going to take care of you.” Eddie waved his hands in the air, shaking his head as he got up off the shared bed.

“What? No!” You lifted your head up and looked at him with pleading eyes. “You can’t. You have Hellfire today.”

“Don’t care, Hellfire can wait baby.” Eddie shrugged his shoulders.

“But- but you’ve been working on your campaign for so long. You’re so excited to try out the new map.” You sobbed. You knew Eddie would never miss a night of Hellfire for anything. He took pride in being a good dungeon master and you would feel so guilty if he missed a night because of you.

“You’re more important than a fantasy game baby.” Eddie leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Now get up and go take a hot shower, that should help your sinuses and icky feeling.”

“But-” You tried to speak but Eddie cut you off.

“No buts sweetheart, now go. I will have some food ready for when you come out, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave in.

Eddie helped you out of bed and pulled you along into his small bathroom. He turned the shower on the hottest setting and looked up as the steam from the water fogged up the air. Placing a quick kiss on your cheek, he urged you deeper into the bathroom before turning around, giving you your privacy to take off his loose shirt you slept in and step into the steaming running water.

You finished your shower quite quickly. The steam from the blazing hot water helped open your sinuses enough for you to finally breathe through your nose on your own. Using Eddie’s shampoo and body wash instead of your own brought you such a comforting feeling that tamed that thumping behind your eyes.

Stepping out of the shower, you dried yourself off before changing into the pair of Eddie’s sweats and Dio band shirt he left for you on the countertop. You wiped off the condensation from the mirror above the sink before grabbing your colored toothbrush next to Eddie’s front the cup on the side table.

Squeezing the drops of water from the ends of your hair with your towel, you made your way through the hall toward the kitchen where you heard Eddie speaking on the phone. He was running around so much that the cord from the phone was wrapped around him as he stirred something on the stove.

“It’s starting to bubble and boil. Does that mean it’s done?” Eddie asked whoever was on the line.

“Okay.” Eddie turned off the stove, following the directions he was given. “Yeah, she should be out of the shower soon. You said these two pills should help with her fever right? Yeah - I know. Yeah, she really is the one for me. I just wanna make her feel better.”

Turning around to get a bowl from the top cabinet, Eddie jumped seeing you leaned up against the counter. “Yeah, okay. I gotta go, she’s out. Yes Wayne, I promise to clean the dishes this time. Bye.” Eddie quickly spun around, untangling himself from the phone cord before placing the phone back on the wall and turning to you. “Hey. You finished your shower fast. Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes, I am actually. Was that your uncle Wayne on the phone?”

“Uh, yeah.” Eddie awkwardly scratched at the back of his neck. “I called him to help me make the soup he always makes for me when I am sick and to ask what’s the right kind of medication to give you.”

“Aww, you’re such a gentleman.” You smiled playing with the stray strands of hair left out of Eddie’s low bun.

“Yeah, so,” Eddie held a finger up before turning around and grabbing the pill bottle and bottle of water off the counter. “So Wayne said to take two of these. They will make you drowsy and shit, I don’t know, but it should make you feel better by the end of the night.”

Eddie handed you the two pills. You took a sip of water before popping the pills back and drowning more than half of the water to get rid of the medicine taste in the back of your throat.

Eddie placed a steamy bowl of soup in front of you and gave you a look to sit in the chair. You smiled as he brought the spoon up to his lips, softly blowing on it to cool it down before placing it in your mouth.

“It’s really good Eddie but I got it.” You chuckled, taking the spoon from him and continuing eating.

By the time you finished your meal, Eddie cleaned the kitchen up and had a meal of his own and the medication started to kick in. You and Eddie were laying on the couch as one of Eddie’s favorite movies played. Darkening clouds covered the sky, casting a gray shadow over Hawkins as rain pelted against the roof of the Munson trailer making your eyes feel heavier and heavier.

“Getting sleep there my love?” Eddie whispered as you placed your head on his shoulder slowly falling asleep. You hummed a soft yes in response.

“Give me one second. I have an idea.” Eddie moved out from under you and kissed you on your lips.

“Ugh, no Eddie.” You shook your head, trying to push him away. “Don’t kiss me. I’ll make you sick.”

“I don’t care.” Eddie dodged your hands and kissed you again. “In sickness and in health, I’ll always want to kiss you.”

“Very funny Munson. We’re not married.”

“Yeah, just wait sweetheart. I’ll change that very soon.” Eddie smirked at your shocked expression before heading to his bedroom and grabbing whatever he wanted and coming back to you.

Eddie moved you around so you were laying against his chest, your head rested right above his heart. The soft thumps of his heartbeat luring you into relaxation as you curl deeper into the arms of your boyfriend.

You faintly heard Eddie turn the page in a book as he held the book against his turned up leg and his other hand softly scratched through your hairs on your scalp.

“The Lords of the Fallen. After an age of the cruelest tyranny, man finally defeated its overlord but gods do not fall forever. The champions of war united and began the eternal watch over their tyrant colossal remains.”

Eddie began to read to you and the mixture of his sweet voice and the rain pulled into a deep sleep.

#pleasinghellfire #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn imagine #stranger things 4 #the hellfire club #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you

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dessiesposts · 12 days

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Make you feel my love pt. 2 (remastered)

A/N: Hey y'all sorry for the late updates a lot has happened. I wasn't happy with the last chapter so it was rewritten. I def prefer this version better. I look forward to releasing part 3 soon! Hope y'all enjoy! Thank you all for the insane love you have been giving the story!

________________________________________________

6 years, 9 months and 15 days before…

The room was quiet. You and Ellie laid in her bed giggling at another stupid pun. You ended up snorting at her jokes which only egged Ellie on more. When she looked at you it felt like the world was only you two. You felt like the sun revolved for her. She looked so pretty when she laughed, it always made you giddy. You liked her so bad it hurt. You were so scared to tell her, you knew Ellie liked girls but you grew up with her. She saw every version of you, and she loved every version of you.

You would constantly doubt the girl’s affection for you. You somehow always chalked it up to your friendship bond. There’s no way Ellie could look at you like that. She always followed around other girls but not someone like you. You hated the way your skin started to feel tight. You felt so ashamed of it. You wanted to peel it away and start fresh, to be someone prettier for Ellie. You wanted her to look at you like she did with the other girls so badly. But, she was already looking at you. She was always looking at you.

“Angel” Ellie cooed her hand on your cheek felt hot. Your breath quickened. You felt warm. You were too nervous to look into her eyes. You were afraid of what she would see. You just nodded in response. It was hard to look in her eyes during these moments. You felt like if she looked in your eyes she would see everything. You always felt bare under her gaze.

“You know I can always tell when you’re thinking all crazy” she moved close, almost too close. Your eyes widened as you looked up at her. She laughed at your face, she loved your eyes. You were so adorable she thought. She loved the way you looked up at her. She just loved it when you looked at her.

“Yeah angel. Mind telling me what’s going on hm?” she asked softly. I’m in love with you, that's what’s going on. Instead you shook your head. She scooted closer. Suddenly the energy started to shift.

‘I’ve got something to tell you. Please don’t go away once I say it. You have to promise angel. Please promise.” she said with need. Her breathing got deeper as she watched you.

“Ok Els, I promise to never leave.” you whispered. It felt like just saying it was too loud, like it would ruin this moment. You held your pinky out to reassure her. She locked fingers with you paying extra attention to your lips as you sealed it with a kiss to your hand.

“I- I um, fuck” she stuttered. Her nerves were getting the best of her. She wanted to tell you so fucking bad. She was so scared. She had a crush ever since she saw you move in next door. She remembers begging Joel to take her to go say hi. She remembers your pretty hair all done up in two braids. She remembers following you around every day after that, completely starstruck. You’ve had her hooked since day one. She’s practically gone insane for you. There was only so long before she exploded. Maybe that’s why she needed to tell you now before her heart exploded out of her chest. She needed you to be her girl. She needed you.

You looked at her. Her eyes just stared right into yours. Her eyes flickered down to your lips. She bet they tasted like cherries. Fuck. She wanted to kiss you so bad. You saw her staring and practically whined. You were hopeless. You needed her. She needed you. You both needed this so bad.

Before you knew it, the space between you two became so small you could feel each other’s breath. You pulled away too scared to go any further. You quickly sat up. It was too much. Ellie sat up, she was pushing down her disappointment.

“Let’s go bug Jesse and Dina yeah?’ She asked quickly standing to go grab her converse. You smiled nodding. It was always nice to have a distraction.

2 days 6 hours and 36 minutes after…

Ellie felt the air leave her lungs. You don’t remember her. You don’t remember anything. She had to swallow back tears. She took too deep of a breath.

“I’m Ellie. Ellie Miller. I’m your girlfriend.” she said awkwardly. She hated this. There was an awkward silence that seemed to swallow the room. Only the soft beeping of the machine brought Ellie a consistent comfort. She grabbed the cup of water next to her, swallowing roughly. Her fingers toyed with the frayed edges of the old flannel.

You just nodded. Ellie brought you a sense of comfort although it felt misplaced, maybe even a little forced. She looked like a kicked puppy standing in front of your hospital bed. You felt a twinge of guilt looking at her. Something deep in your soul wanted to comfort her yet you stopped yourself. It felt too soon for that. It wouldn’t be authentic. You did the next best thing.

“Do you want to sit down?” You gave her an awkward smile attempting to smooth over the tension. It hung thick in the air. Ellie sat down just looking at the floor, silently counting the tile. She wanted to avoid your gaze, it burned her skin. You wanted to look at her. You wanted to stare into her eyes and find the answer to this mess, to yourself. You needed more than the cliffnotes of your life. Your heart is beating fast.

“So we were dating?”you asked almost sarcastically. Of course you were, the girl just told you.

“Yeah.” Ellie nodded, still not looking your way. She wanted to leave. She needed a drink.

“How long have we been dating for?” you asked curiously. You needed more. She needed more.

“About four years.” she responded dryly, rolling her eyes. She found herself pissed at the situation. She wished she could laugh at this moment. Here she was with the girl she was planning to marry who now could not remember her or anything for the past 19 years.

You pressed your lips in a tight line. You understood her anger, you felt it yourself. You knew this was hard for her. You looked at her with such a pitiful look, she hated that. She didn’t want pity, that’s all she’s been getting. She wanted her girl but life wanted to laugh at her. She knew that the irony of the situation couldn’t get better. She saw how everyone looked at her. Even her own sister, Sarah could barely look at her. Ellie knew she wasn’t handling the situation as well or maturely. The flask in her pocket ensured that. Her hair was disheveled, she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. She looked empty. You wished you could help her. You wished you could give her an ounce of hope. But the truth is that the girl in front of you was a stranger. You didn’t feel anything for her.

“I’m sorry” you apologized. You looked down ashamed. Ellie just nodded and stood up.

“ Me too” she said before she walked out of the room before she could cry in front of you. She felt pathetic.

1 year and 3 months and 6 days before…

Ellie stared straight ahead. She felt frozen. Everyone came up to her, Sarah and Tommy giving their condolences. She nodded curtly and quietly said thank you as she shook their hands. She couldn’t feel anything. Time was passing and she was stuck.

The ceremony was tame. It wasn’t much but it was enough for Joel. She knew he would have liked for it to be simple. She let Sarah handle most of it, she just didn’t have the stomach for it. Plus Sarah had better taste. Yet, in this moment she wanted nothing more than to curl under a mountain of blanket and drink her sorrow away,

The guilt in Ellie ate her up. She wished she was stronger. She wished she had more courage to face this. But, this was the scariest thing for Ellie. The man who she grew to rely on was gone. He was always there to hold her hand, to guide Ellie on her path, to keep her in the light. He helped her endure and survive. But, he was gone. He left Ellie alone, she had to fight her own battles now. She had to look for the light. Ellie bit the inside of her cheeks hoping to stifle any sobs coming from her mouth. She didn’t want the attention, the babying, she didn’t want any of this.

Ellie looked down at her beat up converse carefully examining them as the preacher spoke. The casket only a few feet away from Ellie felt too real. She was terrified of looking at it. If she looked at it then it was real, then Joel was really gone. She opted to look at everything but the casket. The preacher seemed miles away as he went on about heaven. Sarah wanted a preacher, she practically insisted on the entire ceremony whereas Ellie and Tommy would have preferred a much more low-key service. It was still nice.

“Now we call on Joel’s youngest daughter, Ellie to speak”

Ellie’s eyes shot up wide, suddenly snapped out of her trance. She forgot that she had to speak. Sarah had requested that each one speak on Joel’s behalf. Her mouth ran dry. Ellie had spent the week trying to write about Joel, looking for the right words to say yet whenever she wrote anything it ended up crumpled up in the trash.

She stood up and approached the podium, the preacher giving her a kind smile of reassurance. As she turned, her eyes caught a glimpse of the casket. It was now in her direct line of vision.She couldn’t ignore this. Her eyes watered. She could always be the loudest smart ass yet here she was speechless. The eyes of the church only added salt to the wound. Ellie tried to speak yet the words seemed to be caught in her throat. She couldn’t stop staring at the casket. It felt taunting.

You saw Ellie struggling, you silently stood up and walked towards her, meeting at the podium. You smiled small, “I’ve got you” you whispered. Ellie looked at you wide with tears overflowing. She just nodded. She laid her head on your shoulder sobbing as you began to read her speech. The memories of Joel consumed Ellie both good and bad. Memories flashed in her mind, some so fast she could barely process. She remembers when he told her that they got approved for adoption. The pure joy on both of their faces. They walked hand in hand to the comic book store, a gift to welcome her officially into the Miller family. By the time you finished Ellie’s words you were sharing tears with Ellie as you guided her back to her seat. She refused to let go of your hand. You didn’t mind though. You both clung to each other.

You both sat on the cool oak bench holding hands. Even once the ceremony was over, the church empty, you both sat there staring at the casket, The silence all consuming. You wondered if you would ever get your Ellie back, or if she died with Joel. The two of you sat there.

“Always?” she whispered softly.

“Always.” you confirmed.

7 months and 13 days before…

You heard loud bangs coming from your living room. You carefully got up grabbing the bat you and Ellie kept by your dresser. Your chest filled with anxiety, your mind racing with the possibility of a stranger being in your home.

Slowly you made your way down the hall to find a very drunk Ellie stumbling in the dark. You sighed as you slipped the switch on the wall halting Ellie’s movements. She bashfully turned around to a very pissed off you.

“H-Hey Angel” she hiccuped. You rolled your eyes agitated.

“Again Ellie, it’s 2 in the morning.” you said annoyed.

“I just grabbed a drink with Cat after work babe, no big deal.” she nonchalantly said. No big deal my ass. This is the fourth time this week.

You huffed. “I’m tired of you drinking like this all the time Ellie. It’s not good” You looked at the girl in front of you. She looked like the girl you fell in love with but she wasn’t.

“You can’t keep doing this Els. I know you’re still upset about -” you were cut off rather rudely by Ellie.

“Don’t” she said. Her moods changed so quickly it almost gave you whiplash.

You looked at her with sympathy. It was no secret that she was struggling. You just wished she would talk to you. You felt her pulling away more and more.

“Baby” you softly lulled. You began to walk towards her. Cautiously you put a hand on her cheek, cupping her face. You looked into her eyes trying to find her. You so badly wanted to find her.

“I’m here for you bubs. Don’t shut me out.” you whispered. Ellie’s tough exterior began to melt. She found your eyes. She was with you at that moment. She was carrying so much pain.

“I miss him too” your voice wavered. Ellie began to cry as she pulled you close nuzzling into your neck.

You held her close as she cried. Her sobs ripped through your heart.

You were scared a piece of her died with Joel.

4 days, 3 hours and 14 minutes after…

Ellie entered your shared apartment. It felt cold.

She walked towards your couch and sat. She could smell your perfume on the blankets. She gripped them tightly as she cried.

She lost another person.

4 days, 5 hours and 25 minutes after…

You were scrolling through your photo album. You came across a video of Ellie throwing you into a lake.

You both were squealing and laughing. She looked so happy as she held you close before jumping in. You smiled.

You wanted that person. You felt guilty that you didn’t miss her.

taglist: @efam @randomhoex @uberyellowsheepn @tfuuka @wex--12 @elliewilliamgfooc

#ellie williams #dessieposts #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #joel and ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader angst

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poppyseed1031 · 1 year

Text

Need You Now, Need You Forever

MDNI, mentions of sex, hints at smut, language, mutual pining, slight angst if you squint, mentions of drinking, love, fluff.

AGED UP NETEYAM AND READER, BOTH 22

PART 2 UP :)

This is my first time posting :) I have a second part ready to go if anyone likes this, I just didn't want to bore anyone with a super long first post if someone does end up seeing it. I hope you Enjoy!! :)

INTRO: Neteyam has known you since he could walk, you two came across each other one random day in the tranquility of the village, both small children just starting to experience the world. He doesn't remember much from that age, except you. And as you both grew up, you grew closer and closer, and he watched you turn into the breathtakingly beautiful Navi you are today. You had big doe eyes that knocked the wind out of him when their attention was focused on him, dark, inky black hair that when loose from your braids fell in wavy curls down to the middle of your back. You had the perfect nose, the prettiest lips that he had spent years fantasizing about, A gorgeous fang filled smile that about killed him when it would spread across your face. Your illuminated freckle pattern that ran down the expanse of your dark blue body and over the pattern of your feminine stripes that flowed beautifully over your skin. You were the sweetest person he had ever met, always the first to hunt, heal, fight, or just listen. You were a fierce warrior, a force to be reckoned with on the rare times anger consumed you, You were funny, so fucking funny he never went a day without doubling over in laughter and clutching his stomach. you were his best friend, his favorite person, and he wanted you, no NEEDED you to be his mate. He needed to feel you, to hold you, to bury himself inside you, have babies with you, just love you, until you both went back to Eywa. But did you feel the same? Had he made his feelings as clear as he thought he had all these years? Will he lose you or win you when an unexpected turn of events arises.

Neteyam couldn't keep his eyes off you, you were perched in a high branch, big, round, honey gold eyes looking down at the group of hexapede a ways in front of the group, you were laser focused, tail swaying softly behind you as you notched an arrow in your bow gracefully. You were so fucking beautiful. "Bro, you're practically drooling, pick your jaw up before it hits the ground and scares the food away." Lo'ak whispered with a chuckle as he pushed against his brothers shoulder. Neteyam peeled his eyes away from you reluctantly and hissed at his brother, "I'm not drooling, shut up." Before Lo'ak could answer back you shot your bow and a hexapede dropped to the ground, causing the rest of the herd to run off into the thick of the forest; "Hell yeah!" Your voice rang through the trees like music as you hopped down from your perch and bounded to your kill happily. Neteyam couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he and Lo'ak made his way over to you. Before he could reach you completely, the other clan member with your small group, Fyii, pushed in front of him and slapped his hand on your shoulder, "Great job Y/N! that was an awesome fucking shot!" He sent you a grin that made Neteyams stomach bubble and burn as he spoke, You turned your attention back to the guys, your long black hair, that you had loose from your braids today, framed your face in a way that made Neteyams knees weak. "Thanks Fyii, but it was an easy shot, nothing special." You gave a small smile as you stood and shrugged your shoulders a bit to shake his hand off, which didn't work. "Why don't I help you get it back to the clan?" Fyii asked, finally removing his hand from your body. "Actually, I needed to talk to Neteyam about something, so I was going to ask him." That made Neteyams ears shoot straight up, his tail twitching behind him in excitement, what could you possibly have to ask him? Fyii grumbled under his breath in annoyance and sent Neteyam a glare, which he ignored. That slime ball has been trying to fuck you for 2 years now and Neteyam was about at his limit with acting like he didn't want to kill him because of it.

Lo'ak and Fyii left with a wave and a see you later as Neteyam walked over to you, sending you a grin as he threw your kill over his shoulder. "You know I can carry that myself right?" You giggled and skipped lightly next him as you both began the walk home. "So... what's up?" He prompted, turning his gaze on you and raking his eyes down your body, Fuck he wanted you so badly. You couldn't help the blush that crawled over your cheeks as his eyes bore into you like they so often did, and you tried to push the heat building in your belly down, reminding yourself it was just a friendly look on his end. You looked up at him, your heart rate picking up like it always did when you saw his handsome face. "So, you know how we hunted this for the party the young warriors are having tonight?" He raised an eyebrow at you "Of course, you spent 2 weeks preparing all the liquor." He chuckled, sending a jolt of electricity straight between your legs, causing you to shift and press your thighs together. "yeah... anyway... My parents have been pushing me to choose a mate for a while now, as you know, and I know I have plenty of choices but I don't..." You paused, you wanted to tell him so badly that you chose him to be your mate, you wanted to hope he loved you like you loved him, wanted to take the plunge, but in your mind it was just a set up for heartbreak. He could never look at you the same way, you were just best friends, right? You shook yourself out of your thoughts and took a deep breath before continuing, "Well, to get to the point, I'm going to except Fyii's offer." Neteyam came to an abrupt halt. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, his body heating up, his stomach churning in panic. "What? You can't.. what?" He didn't mean for his voice to come out the way it did, breathy like someone punched him in the stomach. He felt like his whole world had just crumbled. You were taking a mate? that WASN"T HIM? he felt like he was going to be sick. He felt his hands start to shake as he dropped the hexapede and faced you. You were looking up at him with a confused expression painted on your face, your pretty pretty face. He balled his hands into fists to stop himself from grabbing your face and crashing his lips on yours, from confessing his love for you, the way his heart beat for you, the way his body ACHED for you. If this is what you wanted, if you loved that son of a bitch he knew he should have scared off the day he popped up, he had to let you be happy. He needed you to be happy, he couldn't be selfish no matter how badly he wanted to be. He didnt know that while you were staring back at his now stony expression you were praying, pleading to eywa he said something, anything to indicate he wanted you, any tiny shred of any feeling that wasn't platonic, you needed and wanted him just as badly. But of course Neteyam didn't know, and he needed to get out of there, the forest, and away from you, before the tears fell, before this pain in his chest overtook him. "I have to go, I'll see you at the party tonight." And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing alone in a puddle of heartbreak and confusion.

Later that night after eclipse, after many hours of tears, and anger, screaming and asking the great mother why this was happening to him, Neteyam stepped into the celebration and immediatly went for a drink instead of his usual which was to find you, He couldnt look at you, not with what you were going to do tonight, not when he was losing you. So he drowned himself in drink after drink, ignoring Lo'aks warnings and looks of concern. And soon he was drunk, the first time he had ever been in his life. Always the perfect solider, but tonight? Fuck that. His mind was hazy, his body fuzzy and loose, and still, that ache in his chest was there, and his eyes were subconsiously looking for you. and finally they landed on you. You were talking to Fyii, a sight that made Neteyam wince and take another long swig of his drink, He couldn't see your face, but he could see the small, frilly loincloth you were wearing. he didn't recognize it, so you must have just made it. It came down to just the top of your thighs, the material flowing and loose, it curved over the swell of your ass and as you bent over to grab something it rode up, giving him a perfect view of that spot between your legs that he craved so much. He swallowed thickly and let his eyes travel up, up the small of your back, to your top that had no back straps, so you were completely bare to the eye, your blue skin glimmering, your back was so smooth going into the small notch of your waist, and Neteyam had to reach down and readjust, his own loincloth now uncomfortably tight just from your bare back and a peek between those soft thighs, Eywa was he fucked. He couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched you put your hands on Fyiis chest and whisper something in his ear, the mans face contorting in surprise and a grin that made neteyam sick spread on his face. His heartbeat picked up dramatically as he watched Fyii take your hand and start to lead you out of the crowd, in the direction of the spirit tree. He gulped, grip tightening so much on his cup that it shattered in his hand, he ignored Lo'ak and his friends questioning him as he took off walking after you, there was no rational thought in his head, no plan, he just had to stop this, he had to get to you. He could not let this happen, you were his. HIS.

He reached the spirit tree and was met with the sight of your nervous face sitting crossed legged in front of Fyii, holding your braid in your hand. "STOP!" he yelled as he broke through the tree line, the both of you looking up in surprise. "Dude What the actual fuck!" Fyii hissed at him, you were just sending him a look that was filled with confusion, what was he doing here? He walked up to Fyii and grabbed ahold of his bicep, hauling him up from the ground with a harsh grip. You stood with him, your hands held up in an anxious manner as your eyes scanned Neteyams angry stance. "I said stop, and get.the.fuck.out.of.here." Neteyam hissed menacingly and shoved the other man as hard as he could, Fyii opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off; "Fyii, just go. I'll come find you later okay?" Your voice was soothing but stern and the man grumbled unhappily as he stomped away. Neteyam turned his attention back at you and the breath caught in your throat at his expression. His pupils were blown, so wide there was barely any gold left, he was breathing heavily, and he looked... hungry. "Neteyam what the fuck could be so important-" before you could finish you were cut off buy his lips crashing harshly into yours. You let out a gasp but quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. "You are MINE." He pulled away and growled, the sound coming from deep within his chest, causing a shiver to run through you. All you could do was nod as you stared up at the man in front of you, the man you had been in love with since you were a child, the man from your wet dreams at night, the man that looked completely unhinged right now.

He didn't say anything else as he reconnected your lips and softly brought you both to the ground, being very careful not to let his full weight crush your tiny frame beneath him. His body was on fire, everywhere your skin touched his left a scorching path of flames that he could feel in his bones, you whimpered into his mouth and fuck, his cock twitched so hard he thought it was going to rip his loincloth. "''Teyam, whats going on? what are you doing?" You're question came out as a breathless gasp as you pulled your lips from his, much to Neteyams distain. You watched as your question caused his tense and angry expression to soften into something you didn't recognize, something that made you shiver. He took a deep breath before gently bringing one of his hands up to your cheek and cupping your face, you couldn't help but nuzzle into his touch and the action caused him to send you that crooked smile, where his fangs just barely poked through, that drove you crazy. "Y/N I... I couldn't let you mate with him, and I'm sorry for how I acted after you told me I just, It literally almost killed me when I heard you say it because..." He paused, and you ran your hands soothingly down his back as you felt him start to tremble slightly, " I fucking love you, Y/N. I've loved you for as long as I can remember, I've wanted you for as long as I can remember, and I've been to scared to say anything all these years, I didn't want to scare you, or it be unrequited and then lose you for good, forever. But I couldn't just watch you do this and let it happen. I want you, Need you to be my mate. I love you. I see you." His voice was soft, his eyes glued on your face as he frantically searched it for any type of reaction. You stared at him completely dumbfounded, your heart beating a million miles an hour in your chest. You felt love swell in your chest, so much you felt like your heart was going to explode, so you kissed him. You pulled him in and moved your lips against his in an attempt to let all your feelings flow through the kiss. You both pulled away, panting heavily and holding onto each other tightly. "Neteyam, I love you, I see you." You whispered, running your fingertips livingly down his face. Now it was his turn to gape at you and you couldn't stop the giggle that left your lips, which caused him to break out in a grin of his own. the ringing of your laugh faded as you stared at each other, a thick, heavy tension filling the air as you reached around and grabbed your braid; " Make me your mate, 'Teyam. I've always been yours." You breathed.

#avatar #avatar smut #avatar x reader #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #pandora #avatar 2 #atwow #avatar the way of water #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x reader

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utahimesgf · 1 year

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beauty in the snow

padawan! ahsoka tano x padawan! fem! reader

“Hoth?” you shiver by just looking down on the Icy cold planet blow your ship.

“Yes, and we will be Meeting two others as well. So behave.” your master commented, clicking a few buttons on the ships control panel. “Your coat is in the back, we’re landing soon so put it on, and grab mine, too.” She said, smiling at you shorty as you did the same.

You made your way to the back of the ship, rummaging through the holding cabinets until you came across the one you were looking for.

It was brown, fur coating the inside of it as some spewed from the collar, and the hood as well. You slipped it on once you heard a familiar beeping; you entered the atmosphere.

You quickly grabbed your Masters coat as well and made it to the co-pilots seat, handing the jacket to her as you sat down.

“Ahsoka will be there. I take it you must be excited to see her?” She had a teasing tint to her words, making you force down a shy smile.

“what? well, of course, Master. we’re friends.” You responded, clicking unnecessary buttons in distraction.

“Yes.. friends..” Aayla uttered, the teasing in her voice not dissipated.

“Master! what are you hinting?” you shrieked, voice raising like a small animal as an undeniable flush roamed your cheeks.

“Oh, young one, you kn—”

“we’re here, actually, so if you’ll excuse me.” You announced, instantly regretting your decision to ask her meaning, quickly standing from your seat and rushing the the back of the ship— ignoring your Masters knowing glance.

The ramp lowered before you, and you pulled up your hood, walking down.

“My, it’s cold.” Your Masters voice rang in your ear, and you nodded. “I’ve never liked Hoth.”

You glanced up to her, and her eyes flickered down to yours before she began to move.

“Me either. but it’s time to begin our walk to find our comrades.”

—♡—

Ahsoka blew warm air into the palms of her hands, vigorously rubbing them together in a desperate attempt at warmth.

“Are they almost here Master? I’m freezing!”

Anakin sigh, his breath meeting the cold air of the snowy planet; creating a light froth.

“They should be. we are about to freeze if they aren’t— but patience is key.” He responded, rubbing his crossed hands over his biceps for frictions of warmth.

Ahsoka sarcastically muttered something mockingly under her breath, missing how her master send her a snarky glance.

“Oh, look, snips. They made it.”

Ahsoka’s eyes instantly snapped up, landing on your laughing face.

you were beautiful, to say the least, as always. The dimples on your cheeks and the crease of your skin forming the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen. the rapid beating of her heart was nothing new.

Your eyes traveled from looking to your master, to making their way to her. Your smile grew.

“Ahsoka!” you shouted, waving your hand rapidly— sending a nod to your master before jogging to her.

once you approached them both, you looked from your friend to her master.

“Master Skywalker,” you bow your head deeply, a way of showing immense respect from your culture.

“It’s wonderful to see you both again,” you exclaim, grinning ear to ear.

“You as well, Y/n.” Anakin said, sending a curt nod in your direction accompanied with a smile before passing you and approaching your Master.

“It’s always great seeing you, Ahsoka.” You reach for a hug, and she returns it. Although the icy air of Hoth encases you both, the warmth of your embrace was as comfortable as possible.

“Alright, you two,” your Masters approached, both of their arms crossed. “We’re going to set up camp over there. come help.” Your master instructed, making both you and Ahsoka pull away from the hug. You nodded, sending her a sly smile before walking off, Ahsoka following.

Anakin and Aayla sent each other knowing glances.

—♡—

Your eyes peel open when you feel a rapid patting on your shoulder.

You look over, only to see a sly looking Ahsoka. You yawn, eyes closing. “Ahsoka? what’s going on?”

“Let’s sneak out,” she whispered, so close you could feel her breath on you.

“huh?”

Ahsoka grabbed your hand, making you stand up when she stood up herself, unzipping the tent door, you both sneaked out.

You let a low chuckle escape you, glancing around.

“where are you taking me?”

“somewhere fun.” she replies, a small smile present on her burgundy lips.

You raise a brow, lips twitching upwards as well.

The path you follow to where she is taking you is rather clear, snow and trees the only thing in your sight.

The only sound that filled your ears was both of your breathing, the heavy shuffles of your warm coats, and the sounds your boots made while stepping in the snow. You became more and more curious of to where you were going with every passing step.

“here we are— close your eyes!” Ahsoka exclaimed, before you could shut your eyes her gloved hand pressed firmly against your eyes, and she grabbed your hand in her free one and began leading you blindly.

“Ahsoka, I’m nervous.. I really don’t want to get in trouble again, I got enough punishment last time we left camp…” you recalled, frowning at the recollection.

“Don’t worry, Y/n. this isn’t bad.” she comforted, abruptly coming to a stop.

“Okay, ready?”

“Yes..”

Her hand removed itself from obstructing your view, and a gasp left your lips upon seeing what’s before you.

A large lake, iced over. The moon reflecting beautifully off it, the snowy trees creating beautiful scenery.

“oh wow! it’s beautiful!” you voiced, eyes tracing all the details.

“I knew you’d love it. Come on, i’ll show you the fun part.” She dragged you along, and you tried to ignore the fact her hand was still in yours— and what it made you feel.

You two treaded through the snow, making it to the frozen lake. Ahsoka stepped on it, her grasp on your hand tightening as she does so. She balanced easily, and urged you forward.

“Come on, Y/n. its fun. trust me.”

You swallowed, snapping your eyes shut for a moment, before opening them bravely and stepping in front of her.

She grabbed your other hand with hers. Now holding both your hands, she guided you across the lake as your snow shoes let you both slide a little.

It was a calming moment. Looking into her eyes, her hands in yours as you walked on the ice in sync.

that was until you heard a squeak.

“Did you hear that?” you whisper, eyes snapping away from hers as you looked past her.

“hear what?” she softly questioned, eye brows raised.

“a squeak, it came from—”

squeak.

“there it is again! did you hear it?” You begin to remove your hands from hers, but she grips them tighter.

“Yes.. it sounds like it is coming from over here.” Ahsoka comments, leading you to the snowy path away from the frozen lake.

As you two approached, the squeaks became more common.

And there it was. A small bunny.

You gasped, taking your hands away from Ahsokas and inspecting it.

“oh my.. ahsoka, it has something in its foot..” you mumble, bending down, ahsoka right after you. “what are we going to do?”

she whispers, her warm breath tickling down your neck from the close proximity.

“I know some things for small wounds.. you do, too. we can help it.” you confirmed, brows knitting together in determination. something ahsoka always loved about you.

you gently scooped the bunny up in your gloved palms, quickly placing it on Ahsoka’s lap unexpectedly.

her eyes shot open, about to protest when you shushed her softly. “look, It’s snuggling up against you.”

Ahsoka looked down to it, a nervous smile on her lips upon the sight. you shifted closer, too. Your thigh was pressed against hers, your arms brushing against each other as she could feel your warmth radiating.

You could feel her warmth as well. her nervous breaths, watching her blink rapidly, trying to keep her eyes from you.

before either of you knew it, you were almost completely and snuggled up together, watching the shallow breaths of the rabbit in Ahsoka’s lap as it fell into a deep slumber.

“it fell asleep..” you hummed, smiling spreading across your features.

Ahsoka hasn’t quite been this close to you, she could see every small mark on your face, every crease in your smile, she could see how long your eye lashes truly were— and don’t even get her started on your dimples. Big and sweet, they piece your face together like a beautiful puzzle that was made for her.

when ahsoka didn’t reply to your comment, not that you were expecting one, you looked up— and your eyes locked with hers.

They were filled with so many emotions in one, her icy blues held more words than any language could speak— and you knew many languages.

You stare back at her, your heart beats hard against your chest, trying to break free. trying to escape to ahsoka’s heart.

it was only when your eyes flashed to ahsoka’s lips did you rip them away from her completely.

“um.. I saw Lux Bonteri yesterday during a meeting. He spoke of you.” you blurted out, missing how Ahsoka’s eyes didn’t leave you, but a frown formed on her face.

“are you both.. you know, together?” Ahsoka was surprised you’d ask such a thing. She does recall you teasing her for ‘having a crush on him’.. but it wasn’t him she liked. it was you. it is you.

“what? no! of course not, we’re only friends.” She informed, a tint of displeasure in her voice at the thought of being anything more with the boy.

Now it was your turn to be surprised. You swear Ahsoka had some type of a romantic relationship with him..

“I like someone else.”

she suddenly spoke up, making you turn your head to look at her. She was staring right back at you once again, her eyes encasing you like a bird in a cage.

“.. who?”

“You.”

as if time had completely frozen, your eyes shot wide in shock, surprise and relief. She liked you.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out, the frown that was once upon the Togruta’s face was now replaced with a bashful look, a shy smile.

It only took you a moment of realization of her words before you spit the same of your own.

“I like you, too.”

Once again, the tables turned and ahsoka was surprised, her heart trying to escape its cage inside her.

“You do?”

“I do. I really, really do.”

The silly smile that widened on ahsoka’s face was contagious, and it grew on your lips as well.

You grabbed her hand, smiling, as you slyly reached over to place a small peck on her cheek— watching as her face became red.

You laughed, but stopped suddenly when a pair of soft lips met yours.

The small, shy kiss on your lips from Ahsoka was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You kissed back, but it lasted less than ten seconds. You both couldn’t meet one another’s gaze from the realization of what you’d done, so you rested your head on her shoulder, hand reaching to softly stroke the bunny in her lap.

she placed her head on yours, and it was as if you three were one.

Ahsoka couldn’t be happier than she is now, and neither could you.

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denrath · 1 year

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the mentor (pt. 1)

inspired by this prompt by @writing-prompt-s

summary: Litha, a powerful 200-year-old mage, retires quietly to a village who doesn't know her name or story, which is tainted so dark, the slate is stained. In her attempts to cope with her wrongdoings, a visitor appears bringing the worst news imaginable. words: 1.2k

a/n: I wanted to reach the call to adventure in this first part! comments/likes/reblogs appreciated! will continue this in later parts!

I am Litha, Harbinger of Flame and Curser of the Lurenth Kingdom. For two centuries now, I was once known as the most powerful and feared mage in the land, known for my affinity to fire. A village burner, the reaper, shadow slayer--whatever name you heard, know I never carried them on my shoulder.

When I was young and able, I would travel very far and even wider for riches beyond my comprehension. I had a string of successful heists and daring escapes under my belt throughout the three kingdoms and their courts.

Litha. That was the name that struck fear into people's hearts. It was the name that made even the bravest heroes shudder in fear.

I, too, feared the truth of this name and hated my life of malignant adventure. The battles were repetitive, uninspiring, and disengaging--had I grown incompetent in the fight? Had my blades dulled, my magic worn, had my mind wandered into the abyss? Fights were meaningless with no reward. I had fought them all. I was tired.

Thus, I decided to retire, knowing that my ill-gotten wealth would set me up for whatever life remained in my favour.

Twenty years ago, I hung my blades to dry. I settled within the fields south of a village outside the Milfallen Court of Erengborn. A warm climate, filled with coniferous and plants like I had never stopped to appreciate. Within this land, a settlement of civilians knew not of me, and I preferred it this way. My name would not spread, and I could live in the quiet. Finally, I had the breath and the space to reflect.

Reflect on the pain I summoned. The rage I never smothered. Of all the names I have been called, none hit quite like 'monster.' I pricked my skin for each life form I felled, fae and man alike. I pinched, and pinched, and pinched until I grew numb, my skin sore from the treatment.

Time passed as I had no hunger, cursed by the old gods to never eat, and no exhaustion, a curse of my own volition so as to not peer into my subconscious mind.

There I sat, in the old armchair, worn rouge wool and faded walnut feet. My backside created a permanent dent in the uncomfortable square cushion as I picked and pinched at my skin, staring into the cold, desolate hearth. I stayed like this through the darkness, dawn, spring, and winter.

A week passed. No, maybe it was a month. I saw naught in my time in this chair and counted winter twice. Had two years gone like this? A chirp by the window in the blue-grey of early morning alerted my attention to the species. A robin. Aye, this would be the third spring.

The start of my third year sitting in this chair.

And at this moment, where I regathered the days I paid, a knock sounded at my door.

I stopped pinching.

A knock? Would the same stone, crack, and smudge on my hearth drive me mad? The incessant pinching finally taking its toll?

No, I told myself. Like the robin, the wind, and the rain, I had heard it in fairness. The knock rang true and proved its authenticity by resounding through my small cottage a second time.

I rose hastily, which blurred my vision in protest. My joints creaked and cracked at the movement. I stepped around the couch and toward the oval-shaped door, once a deep blue paint covered its surface. Now, it peeled in age.

My heart shattered the cold layer it sported and beat wildly against my chest. Had a god come to claim my soul? It was damned and worthless; I bet they would rather see me suffer.

My hand reached the black iron clasp and pressed the latch down, pushing the door forward to reveal overgrown weeds, unkempt bushes, and a man.

A boy in comparison to my age.

He had silk-like, raven black hair, cropped short to reveal the burns along his scalp and cheek, trailing down his collar to his left shoulder. One eyebrow was thick, the other a ghost of its twin as the same scar on the left side was evident on the right. He wore a pale cloak and earth-brown trousers tucked into cattle-skin boots, traditional to the Lurenth Kingdom. The one I had cursed with famine so long ago. He looked much younger than that.

A red satchel crossed his shoulder, the only pop of colour in his otherwise monotonous garb.

I feared my voice would disappear in the wind, so I held my tongue. Though my throat burned with a hundred questions. Who was he? Why was he here? What does he want?

"Hello," he introduced sheepishly, raising a hand in salutation. It was wrapped in weeks-old bandages. When he noticed my stare, he lowered his hand and hid both behind his back. "I am Eryk of Norwena Court, east of Lurenth Kingdom. I come in search of Litha. My journey brought me here to this court, to this cottage."

He shifted uncomfortably under my gaze. I tried to soften my disposition at his request, but I was shaken by how he...did not say my name in fear. My look of bewilderment was not in anger but in astonishment.

When I did not respond, he said, "do you know of her residence?"

I stepped through my doorway, to which he cowered back. I stood taller than him, roughly half a foot. He visibly gulped at my stature. I reached out a hand and pursued the satchel, even after he flinched. I gripped the thick leather strap, dyed crimson. The initials S.L. were etched into the base.

"Where did you get this?" I croaked a rough, unused sound, scratching the weak walls of my throat with the sudden vibrations of speech. I coughed to relieve the pain, but it worsened. I swallowed what little saliva I had to lubricate my voice and asked, "Who gave this to you?"

The urgency behind my tone caused the boy, Eryk, to look up in shock. "It's you..."

"Who?!" I commanded with more desperation, grabbing the satchel harder. This voice, this urgency, was a shadow of my former prowess.

He pulled back, easily overcoming my grip with a slight shift. I had grown so weak in the wake of a young male human. At the height of my tyranny, I could kill someone of his species with a simple look.

"You are Litha," he stated with confidence. But he sized me like I was not who he thought I would be and not who he was told I was. He was right; I was not.

I requested with one last breath of uncanny hope for the bag's origins.

"Your father," Eryk responded in an even tone, void of emotion. How I should have felt for my father after so long.

My throat tightened in protest at the answer. No mortal would see me cry. So, I feigned an enigmatic disposition and waited for the rest of his speech.

"He sent me here to you in hopes of answers."

I turned back towards my cottage, my hole, my grave. "I have no answers for you here, boy," I spat, throwing the door behind me.

The solid wood sounded with a thunk, and the young male mortal followed after me into my residence. Before I could protest, he said, "but Master Litha, you are the only one who has the answers."

He lifted his hand, and a familiar blue flame kissed his fingertips. He continued, "for we are like."

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chaoticgenders · 2 years

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Long post warning lol, rant warning too. I need to get this off my chest, it's going on 7AM.

TW for drinking, transphobia, and just overall shitty parents/people.

My dad was talking about our family friends' (Who I'll call Dave from here on out, who I also don't count as a friend.) ex-girlfriend, I don't know her name because my entire family including Dave deadnames her. I'll call her Rose. Rose was an abusive piece of shit, apparently. I wouldn't know, I wasn't with my parents at the time when Dave was with Rose..so I know nothing about Rose other than her fuckin' deadname and the fact she's a transwoman. Dave, my mom (sometimes), but mainly my dad are extremely transphobic when it comes to her and it makes me peel off my skin.

My dad claims she deserves this because of how she acted and abused Dave, and he'll also go on spews on how Dave is gay. It usually comes out in all of them when they're drunk, unsurprisingly enough. On new years eve, I think in 2020, me and my dad were both drunk and we both had a small argument over it. My dad getting red in the face and telling me to "shut the fuck up" because I don't understand it. While I'm standing here apple pie in hand just wanting to have a good time, trying to hide the fact I might be some form of trans myself. I told my dad (from what I can remember I was shit faced lol), "Even if she's an abusive asshole, you don't deserve to deadname her! It's transphobic!" , and apparently my dad absolutely hated that response and my mom had to step and and tell me to calm down.

It was understandable, my dad is one thing angry when sober...but when he's drunk he's a lot more in your face and wouldn't hesitate to throw a punch. I let the topic go, but maybe every single time when they're drunk...they'll deadname her.

The biggest one was, I think, around last month. It's a long story on how this stranger got on our front porch but I'll just say she saw us cooking out and decided to join and be nice, I guess. She was very sweet I suppose, although made me dysphoric because she said I would get rid of my "girl face" when I went on T. (My mom also outed me as trans against my will, which made me wanna kill myself.) I digress, at one point someone deadnamed Rose (she's always a Hot Topic when they're drunk.) and I rolled my eyes and kinda stormed off, grabbing a beer from the fridge for my dad out of habit. My mom got so fucking angry at me, and when I came back my mom was explaining to the stranger that Rose was trans..and just outed another goddamn individual.

My parents will never understand the concept of being personal and secret. I've told my parents multiple times certian things they've done is ableist, transphobic, racist, etc. They'll usually give bullshit stupid ignorant excuses to me, claiming "Saying the N-word isn't racist! I grew up around black people that let me!!" which makes me so flabberghasted, or my dad (who's cishet) saying fucking slurs like tranny and faggot to my face, and even being bi-phobic. He literally married a bisexual woman.

Adding on to this, my dad literally said that most bisexual people have a higher chance of cheating. I got defensive because..I'm queer, abrosexual, and also label myself as bisexual so it just hurt. My dad passed it off as a joke as my mom did nothing and said nothing other than back me up a little by saying a myth of being bisexual was that they're cheaters and my dad got even more defensive and started saying it was a joke x3 (times three). Sure, whatever man, it's a "joke".

My mom is also a cunt, because she doesn't belive in pansexual people, genderfluid people, and barely understands nonbinary people. Same with my dad, when I came out as nonbinary, then as a transman. My dad told me to my face that "You'd need to do the surgerys out of the house" and "they/them pronouns don't even make sense" when he's literally like idk..40???

My parents barely misgender me now, I've trained them well (/hj), but I know for a fact my parents don't see me as a man. I know for a fact they just see me as Girl Lite.

Also the process to get my parents to use my pronouns was hell, because they kept using excuses.

Also, my parents are anti-neopronouns (and probably xenogenders), they've claimed its a mockery to trans people and when I try and explain they brush it off like my opinion as a TRANSman doesn't matter.

IDK I can't wait to move out, my parents have tried fucking everything to keep me here and I'm manifesting so hard I can finally just leave this terrible place.

My parents are racist, anti-MOGAI (i use mogai in replace of lgbtqia+, for future references), anti-everything I am and more.

I only semi-recently got 'accepted' by my parents as "might be autistic" because my cousin just got diagnosed with autism.

My parents also don't believe in DID/OSDD, the last time they talked about it, it was all stigma. It hurts living here man, i hate it.

Also, too add flame to fire, my mom fetishizes asians, japanese culture, and gay men. It pisses me off, my mom literally consumes yaoi and is so fucking weird w/ gay people.

#chaos chatter

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spicysoftsweet · 3 years

Text

summary: gojo’s tired of you resisting him

warnings: home invasion, noncon, degradation, fem!reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a crumb for @mahitopegger i have no idea wtf happened. i didn’t edit this || reposted from sideblog (now deactivated) on 4/17/2021.

It was only after the soft click of your door, and the eerie silence thereafter that seemed to threaten to close you in, that you realized that something wasn’t quite right. Your eyes darted left, then right, and you kicked off your shoes slower than usual, setting them semi-haphazardly to the side of your entryway.

Even if you weren’t paranoid, you were still the type of person to double check, sometimes triple-check your locks on occasion before you left your home, and you did remember your key turning the right way just seconds ago.

Maybe you were overreacting - after all you lived in a relatively safe area, alone save for your cat with a propensity to mewl for food at all hours of the day. Ah, that was possibly the issue, the fact that your little furry friend hadn’t made his presence immediately. But he knew how to be quiet sometimes, and was fond of an early afternoon nap.

The sound of your keys clattering on your coffee table now seemed unceremoniously loud, like you were disturbing a religious service. In your own house.

Your heart started to race for just a moment, and you turned around quickly.

Nothing. No person, no ghost, no cat. Just you, a sudden sense of unease, and your rapidly beating heart.

Why were you so anxious?

You couldn’t recall the last time you’d felt so unsettled for the moments in which you paced down your hallway, ears tuned to the soft footfalls of your presumably sleeping companion. You would have whispered its name but you didn’t want to wake up the needy little bastard unnecessarily.

It was only three paces in that you stilled suddenly, and the memory of the last time you’d felt this way suddenly struck vividly in your mind.

Clear blue eyes, bordered by long, pale white eyelashes. A smile, once easy and bright, with corners turned up far too high into malice.

You froze.

Was it him? Was Gojo in your house? He wouldn’t... would he?

Your last encounter had been... suboptimal, to say the least. You’d all but told him to get lost, that you weren’t and would never be interested, not after knowing who he was, what he was.

You needed a quiet, calm existence. Your imprint on the world would be measured. You had to stay away from bad omens like his.

But his reaction had been unnatural. He hadn’t given you a real response, just a smile, and you had felt just as unnerved then as you did now before you parted.

You were clearly still spooked.

But these nerves were just vestiges of your anxiety. Gojo knew how to take no for an answer. Of course he did.

He didn’t - you opened your bedroom to find the young sorcerer waiting for you, your cat comfortable in his arms.

“Ah! You’re back~”

Gojo didn’t move; rather, he continued to sit in his relaxed position, legs outstretched onto the bed, palm stroking softly at the soft orange fur. The soft purr of the docile animal filled the air with sharp contrast to your wordless mouth, opening and closing once in shock, and the frenzied beat of your heart.

He smiled before his eyes did, and shifted on top of your covers, getting to his feet. Dressed casually in a white t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, as though he’d been lounging around your house the entire day... as though he lived here.

“W-what are you doing here?” You choked out.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his hold on the little creature relaxed, who remained for just a moment, mewing once before jumping off his lap, brushing by your legs that felt as though they would start shaking any moment, and then promptly sauntered out of the room.

“You didn’t tell me you had a cat,” Satoru remarked, now sitting with legs criss-crossed on the bed, hair mussed and relaxed, and with affect as bright as a child on his first sleepover. He patted the space on the bed next to him, beckoning you to come sit. “Did you have a good day?”

“Gojo, please get out of my house.”

His expression darkened for just a moment before it returned to its natural cheeriness. He patted the space next to him again.

“You must be tired. I can make you something. Tea?”

Your feet were glued to the ground, neither advancing nor retreating.

“P-please leave,” you repeated, more wary this time. Your hands were starting to shake and you watched his eyes flicker to them, then back to your eyes.

“Why would I do that?” He said, tilting his head ever so slightly.

His eyes bore into yours and you felt your stomach turn.

“Don’t you like my attention?”

“Satoru, please,” you continued, your lower lip wobbling inadvertently. “Please, just leave... I won’t tell anyone you came here, just... I can’t return whatever feelings you have, so just go.”

Your fists clenched and unclenched, but you still were so tense, planted onto the floor as though you were a sharp dagger thrust into vulnerable flesh. Why weren’t your feet moving? You should be running. Running as far as you can from this man who could just as easily become a monster if he so pleased.

As though he knew you’d already become powerless - not that it made a difference, the power differential was already so vast - he rose, walking towards you in an open, unguarded stance. He wasn’t afraid of you in the least. The very thought made your blood boil.

Once he stood before you, towering over your shorter, smaller frame, his lips pursed.

“Stop shaking.”

It was a command, given in an annoyed but direct fashion.

You don’t know why you eked out, powerlessly, “I can’t.”

“You weren’t this afraid when you were telling me to fuck off a couple days ago,” he noted. His hand rose to grip your chin, tilting your face to him. You don’t know when you’d started crying, but tears were now streaming down your face, warm and wetting his fingers.

“You’re crying? Where’s the sass you had then?”

“Please...”

Against your better wishes, his lips pressed to yours, and somehow then, your body remembered that adrenaline could also make you fight, and you did fight, thumping your hands balled into fists against his chest and his shoulders, as his hand gripped your chin tighter and his tongue forced its way down your throat. Once he’d gotten tired of your struggle, his other arm hooked around your waist, and he pulled you closer, pressing you against his body.

Your screams were muffled by his kiss as it grew deeper, and at some point, he’d decided on biting your lip painfully, drawing blood once he’d threatened you to shut the fuck up before he gave you something to cry about for real.

You remembered that the first time Gojo had kissed you, it had been soft and tender, nothing like this kiss that was violent and demanded submission; once his hand moved from its grip on your chin, it grasped your hair, fingers twisting and tugging to tilt your head back.

His lips left yours, now red and soon purple and blue, and made their way down your neck to mark them the same.

Every scream was futile, every plea for mercy fell on deaf ears.

At some point, you may have heard your cat meow for something... food? Out of sympathy? You weren’t sure, all you could think about were the painful hickeys on your collarbones and traveling down your bosom.

“I don’t know why you’re so resistant. You yourself called me selfish,” he murmured, ripping the top part of your clothing with the nonchalance with which one would peel a banana. At the sight of your exposed breasts, he was like a man rabid, slamming you backwards into the wall without much regard for head injury. His left arm caged you in, while his right pressed painfully onto your breast.

He paused for a moment, and grinned salaciously.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that~! You look so docile... it’s weird coming from you.”

To that, a fire renewed in your eyes, and you spat directly in his face. His lips curled again in satisfaction, barely reacting to the spittle dripping down his pretty features.

“Fuck you.”

“I will.”

With a small chuckle, he jerked your face painfully to the left such that you couldn’t look at him directly as he took your breast into his mouth.

The idea of this bastard suckling on you, loudly, lewdly as though you’d belonged to him only made the churn in your stomach worse, but the desperate attempts to a knee to his chest were met with barely a resistance. Like he knew you couldn’t hurt him and it was only a matter of time until you stopped and succumbed to him.

The process was already happening - you could feel your nipples hardening and a new flow of heat in your panties. Your tears became more prolific - no longer fear, but rage, but the hand that kept you steady against the wall was impossibly strong.

Your head swam as a confused pleasure started to replace the pain and fear you were feeling. More clothing was torn off of you, more of your skin was marked and licked and sucked. Once your panties were ripped to shreds, he lay your now languid and fight-drained body against him, cooing appreciatively at the new helplessness, pumping two slender fingers up and down your wet inner core as he moved you from the hard wall to the soft bed.

You almost thanked him.

His fingers remained within you as he laid you down, but once he withdrew his touch as your pounding hazy head hit the pillow, he replaced them with the roughness of his tongue, penetrating you without the least bit of shame.

You let slip the moan you had been holding in in defiance.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you.”

He continued to lick and you continued to mewl.

Once he’d tired of the taste of your cunt, he invaded your privacy in the most all-encompassing way possible, pushing every inch of a greedy, throbbing cock inside of you. As you cried from the stretch, he shushed you with a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your screams.

As if someone was going to help you. Maybe your cat would come and watch, but he’d found something else to do.

“I know it hurts but you’ll get used to it, I promise, babe,” he murmured, groaning slightly as he seated himself to the hilt. “There.”

He stilled and in the silence of the moment only punctuated by both of your soft pants, you remembered how to sob.

His nose crinkled, and he let out of a soft sigh, cock jerking impatiently inside you.

“Why are you so stubborn?” He mused, leaning against you so that his head rested in the softness of your breasts. He could hear your heartbeat that doesn’t beat for him... but rather it did, because he is the one making it quicken in some odd rhythm of terror and pleasure.

You didn’t speak because there was far, far too much to yell.

As though a timer had rung to mark the end of his empathy, he rose onto his hands again, sighing as he adjusted into the plushness of your walls that didn’t reject him as fervently as you did. He moved, shoving two fingers down your throat to gag your renewed protests as he thrust into you repeatedly.

The short gasps with every stroke only encouraged him, and the immense pleasure he found in the light of your eyes starting to fade into a placid dullness.

“You love me,” he informed you with every rut.

You didn’t answer.

You weren’t sure what this disgusting repetitive sensation bringing your body to climax was. You were no longer sure what he was even talking about, just that there was a warm thing pumping inside of you and fingers down your throat and pain everywhere else in your body, particularly your neck and shoulders and arms and breasts, and you were staring into precious sapphires littering the base of twin lakes.

“You love me,” he repeated. “I know you do.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere gojo x reader #tw noncon #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo sm #not sfw #gojo smut #mae.drabble #mae.writing

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strawbabysimp · 3 years

Text

Milk || Cow Hybrid Sub!Shigaraki x Reader

Genre: Smut

Category: Sub!Shigaraki x GN!Dom!Reader

Warning(s): Cum Eating, Handjobs, Male Lactation, Nipple Play, Slight Degradation

Request(s): "OH MY GOD THIS IDEA HAS BEEN LIVING RENT FREE SO HEAR ME OUT HOUSEWIFE COW HYBRID SHIGARAKI 😩😩😩😩 PLEASE MAKE HIM A SUB AND THE READER A DOM "

A/N: I'm not sure how to feel about this :) I enjoyed it far too much~

Waiting for you to get home was torture. His chest and cock ached in unison and with every small task he couldn't help but whimper from the way his clothes grazed his most sensitive areas. As time passed, he could no longer resist the urge to rub over the bulge beneath his apron, attempting to distract himself from the way his nipples rubbed against the clothing painfully by tugging at the pitifully denied cock between his legs. He was so close to spilling out, the lightest touch adding to the wet spots in the fabric of his top. He hoped that by wearing a cropped shirt the air would somehow soothe the sensitive buds but he knew the only real solution would be a good milking.

His pants stuck to his legs unpleasantly and he found himself quickly peeling the fabric off of his sweat-laden skin, sighing blissfully as the air hit his exposed thighs. His bottom half was left only in briefs and he contemplated taking off the top he wore or the cow-print apron you had bought him jokingly, but decided against it. He would be far too tempted if he saw his own hardened nipples, white collecting at the tip as he tried his best not to give each of them a painfully satisfying tug.

He whines against the kitchen counter, head resting atop his forearm as his hand comes to stroke up and down his shaft. Blue strands stick to the man's forehead the longer he keeps at it, the coldness of the countertop no longer felt against his scorching skin. The dark horns atop his head shined in the light of the kitchen, always pristine even when he himself was coming undone. He was so desperate to just reach up and squeeze down onto the swollen nubs, craving the sweet release that came whenever he spilled out over his own chest, wasting his precious milk as it made its way down his torso in spurts. But he couldn't. He had promised to wait for you.

That's the position you caught him in, spilling over his own fingers as he cried out, pressing himself further against the counter in a way that had him soaking through his shirt. After catching his breath he noticed you, standing on the other side a bit farther off, eyes widened slightly from the sight. "I'm sorry," he said between gasps, "It was too much. I needed... I'm sorry..." He trailed off nervously as you stepped towards him.

You were quick to soothe his worrying, the tension in his brow releasing with every reassuring word. "That's okay. I'm not mad. I'm sure you still have lots of milk left in there, right? Unless you spent the day milking yourself like a filthy whore? Hmm?" The bluenette's head shook in denial. He had done no such thing. You had been at work for the majority of the day and with a quick peck to his lips and a gentle squeeze to his chest you had him promise to wait for you to get home before he did anything to relieve the pressure in his chest.

Having made your way to the other side of the counter, you got a better look at the moisture soaking through his shirt. You moved to untie the strings keeping the cow-print against his body, the item falling to the floor and allowing you to see the mess he had made of himself. Cum mingled with the fibers of his boxers to leave a wet patch in the crotch and when your index finger reached out to trace the underside of his shaft in a straight line, his back pressed against the counter as he allowed you to continue your slow movements, you were pleased to get the small twitch as feedback.

Satisfied with his cock's reaction, your hands moved their way up to his stomach, his waist was thin and defined but still soft and you couldn't help but dig your nails in just slightly to gain the pleasant-sounding hiss Shigaraki lets out at the pressure. Once again you moved along, digits trailing teasing swirls into his skin before settling on his swollen chest. You made sure to only cup them, avoiding the hardened peaks showing through the soaked shirt. The cow hybrid stared at you with big eyes and a quivering mouth, desperate for the way you milked the tender mounds.

Giving in to his wordless pleas, you clamped down on the needy buds. He pressed himself closer to you, head falling down to rest on your shoulder as you rested your head against his own. He cried out from the merciless motions, skin chaffing slightly from the crop top still adorning his body. You noticed his pained whines and pulled away. His eyes filled with tears at the lack of contact but he calmed down once he realized your intentions. Lifting his arms to help you release him from his clothing, Shigaraki whimpered as it rose up and off of him. He quickly returned to his original position and you nibbled softly on his ear as a sign of claim before resuming your ministrations.

His noises only grew louder until you were sure anyone outside could easily know the nature of what was going on inside your home. Despite the volume of his moans, you were eager to bring more out of him. You detached one of your hands from the perk nipple, the milky residue coating your fingers as you bypassed the band of his briefs. His cock was hard in your hands and a wave of precum left him with only a few pumps in your palm. The abandoned nipple continued to puff up, sore yet still dripping down. What a waste.

Your lips wrapped around the leaking tip, pulling more of the lukewarm flavor into your mouth with every soft suck. Blue strands bounced in the air as he struggled to keep himself up, head tilted back as he gave you more access to his chest. Your hand never stopped thumbing at his cock, focusing on the tip as the precum and milk mixed to create a sort of lubricant that spilled out over your fingers and down his arousal, coating his inner thighs in wetness. He gasped in your hold, shaking against the counter he now relied on for stability. His fingers dipped into his own mouth in an attempt to quiet down but quickly failed as the overwhelming sensations hit him.

Drool trails down his chin as cum drips from his cock. His eyes roll to the back of his head and fingers that were once in his mouth now rested against the side of his face in a wet mess. You don't release him until you've drained his cock completely, sobs echoing off the kitchen floor as his legs threatened to collapse under the weight of his orgasm. Satisfied with the job done, you pulled away from his chest with a pop before bringing your hand out of the fabric confines. Tears ran down his face but a soft smile was on yours as you got a look at just how wrecked he was. Your hand was left coated in the sticky secretions and you couldn't help but bring the digits to his mouth to clean up.

"Sweet, isn't it?"

#Smut #Shigaraki #Shigaraki Smut #Shigaraki x Reader #Sub!Shigaraki #Sub Shigaraki #My Hero Academia #MHA #Anime #Shigaraki Tomura #Gender Nuetral Reader

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earlgreydream · 3 years

Text

fed up.

| bucky x reader | smut |

anon requested. reader comes without permission and he punishes her by edging her everyday for like a week straight & your shitty week at work turns into you acting out at home and Bucky is absolutely fed up with your behavior

a/n: both of these are 🥵🥵🥵

cw: edging, orgasm denial, subspace, etc

“Watch your mouth,” Bucky warned after the second time you’d been disrespectful to him.

Your week at work had been incredibly stressful. Your boss had yelled at you, you got blamed for not getting things done on time, even when it wasn’t your fault, and you’d been overwhelmed to the point of tears. You were fed up, and it had put you in a bad mood. You were typically sweet, but the stress brought out your bratty side, and you just couldn’t help but let your frustration seep into your relationship. Bucky was not a dom to test, but you didn’t care.

“You can watch my ass as I walk out the door,” you snapped back, and Bucky turned to you, pushing his tongue against his bottom lip like he always did when he was mad.

“Come here.”

“I’m busy.” You didn’t look up from where you were trying to peel an orange.

“Come here, now.”

“I said-” you started, but he was on his feet and behind you before you could finish your sentence.

The fruit was pried from your hand, Bucky having no patience for your attitude. You were flipped so your back was against the counter, and Bucky grasped your jaw in one of his large hands.

“Knock it off with the fucking attitude.”

His gaze was warning, and you could tell that he was getting more and more frustrated with you. The look in his silver eyes was dangerous, a clear indication you were on your way to getting exactly what you wanted.

You glared at him, dead set on acting out. Your mood was sour, and you wanted to push Bucky’s limits. You wanted him to he as riled as you were, not caring about any consequences.

“What attitude?” Your tone was obnoxious, and Bucky couldn’t take it anymore.

He let go of your jaw, stepping back to look at you. Bucky took a second to breathe, and to think through his next actions, bringing his fiery anger down to a simmer.

He knew you were doing this to get a reaction. He was very aware that you were likely doing this to get him to bend you over the bed and spank you, that was usually the endgame to your brattiness. He was tired of your behavior, and he wasn’t going to give in to what you wanted.

He leaned against the counter opposite of you and picked up your half-peeled orange. You watched him finish it, and take a small slice before handing you the rest of it. He glanced at you briefly before walking back out of the kitchen, leaving you stunned.

You hadn’t expected that, and you followed him to the living room, where he returned to the novel he had been reading when you mouthed off to him. You watched him for a few moments before timidly climbing onto the couch beside of him.

His sudden calmness and disinterest scared you more than his anger, and your attitude crumbled to pieces. You were afraid to bother him, but you laid down with your head on his lap as he read. He set his hand on your side, his thumb lightly brushing over your top every once in a while. He got lost in the novel, and you were nearly asleep on him when he finished.

He finished the book and set it aside, looking down to see you dozing on his lap. You woke up as he carefully slid out from under you, and you watched as he went to shower.

You laid back on the couch, sighing from boredom. Your mind started to wander to what Bucky looked like in the shower, soap lathering all over his body.

You unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs, giving in to how horny you were. You closed your eyes as your hand traveled under your panties, getting yourself off to thoughts of your boyfriend in the shower.

Bucky leaned against the wall and watched you, lured out by the sound of you moaning his name. He watched as you came around your own fingers, your back arching and a loud, high pitched whine leaving your lips.

“You’re really trying to get into trouble, doll.”

Fear sparked through your belly at the sound of his irritated voice, and you quickly removed your hand. He was glaring at you, displeased by you coming without permission.

“I didn’t think you would know,” you admitted honestly, having expected him to take a much longer shower, or hang out in the back of the house.

“No? So it’s okay to break the rules as long as I don’t find out?”

“Well, no...” the whisper caught in your throat, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So what were you hoping to happen?” Bucky was causing embarrassment to spread through you, and you felt like a child being scolded for bad behavior.

“I just wanted to get off, because you didn’t-”

“You were acting like a brat, so I didn’t feel that I should help you.”

The statement hung in the air, and your plan and deviance collapsed, your plan to blow off some steam with Bucky quickly fell into shambles.

You didn’t need to explain yourself. Bucky knew your frustrations. Although he was sympathetic, it wasn’t an excuse for your behavior.

The thick silence made you tense, and you swallowed hard, regretting your infractions. Bucky helped you up and told you to go shower, going to busy himself with something else.

You were stunned, opting for a longer shower, a little anxious to face Bucky. When you stepped out of the water, he handed you a towel, waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” you broke the silence.

Bucky pulled you toward him, giving you a kiss against your wet lips. You looked up at him, and he nudged his nose against yours before speaking.

“Dry off and go lay on the bed. No point in dressing yet.”

You nodded, doing what he asked, feeling sullen. The desire to push back against him and be a brat was gone, faded with his lack of aggression. You were afraid now, unsure of what he was going to do to you, because he certainly wouldn’t let your behavior go unpunished.

You stretched out on the bed, opting to lay on your stomach, hoping your boyfriend would appreciate the view of your ass. Bucky slid his hands up the back of your thighs, squeezing you before pulling your hips up.

“Just let me know if it hurts,” Bucky kissed the back of your shoulder before thrusting into you. A sigh escaped your lips and you squeezed the sheets between your fingers as Bucky maintained a steady rhythm, rocking into you and filling you up.

“James,” you moaned his name, causing him to snap his hips faster against yours.

You tightened around him, teetering on the edge of an orgasm. You couldn’t get there without any stimulation on your clit, and Bucky knew that. He had memorized every inch of your body, everything you needed, and everything you did.

Your muscles went limp as you sank against the mattress, letting him pound into you until you felt him spill into the condom he wore.

“James, please,” you begged, pushing your hips back.

“Please what, doll?” Bucky was punishing you now, you realized.

“Please let me come!”

You had twisted to look at him, and he flipped you onto your back in front of him before stepping off the bed to clean himself up.

“Next week.”

“Next week?” It was almost a scream, and he shot you a look.

“Gotta teach you not to be disrespectful,” Bucky kissed your lips, and you pouted, upset by the aching you felt from your needs being unfulfilled.

“I’m sorry.”

He laid down with you, letting you curl up in his arms. He held you tightly, kissing you until you grew so tired you couldn’t stay awake.

Every day that Bucky got home from work that week, he bent you over whatever surface you were on, fucking you roughly but keeping you from orgasming. By the fourth day you were crying, aching with a more intense need than you had ever experienced.

“Please, I’ll be good, Bucky, I’m-” you whined, tripping over your words as you begged him, only to be shot down with the sweet smile that hid sadistic pleasure of you being denied.

Being denied had put you in an especially subby headspace, and when Bucky was around you clung to him. He made sure to take extra good care of you, knowing you were being good and not getting off by yourself. You’d learned your lesson, hesitant to ever do it again after the week you’d been through.

When it was finally the end of the week, you were almost in subspace from Bucky just picking you up and carrying you to bed.

“You’ve been so good doll, I’m so proud of you,” Bucky kissed you as he laid you down on the mattress, practically tearing your clothes off of you.

“I want to be good for you, James.”

He looked into your wide, glassy eyes, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, reassuring you that you were good, and you made him so happy. You slipped into subspace, your mind clouding up. Bucky recognized the signs, and he kissed you all over and loved on you.

“I’m going to let you come. Sound good, doll?” Bucky hummed against your skin, and you nodded.

“Yes, please.”

He smiled at your sweet voice, dropping between your legs. Your fingers tangled into his hair as his mouth pressed against your sex, his tongue moving through your folds and swiping over your clit. Your whimpers mixed with the lewd sounds of Bucky eating you out, knowing it was the fastest way to get you to come. He loved the feeling of you tugging on his hair, and he pushed two fingers into your heat, dragging against your g-spot while his tongue continued to work at your nerves.

You were crying his name as your legs shook, the pressure finally snapping and granting you the release you had been so desperate for. His name echoed off the walls as you screamed, tightening your thighs around his head.

When he drew up, a pleased grin adorned his face. You struggled to catch your breath, the aftershocks sending little jolts through your body. He couldn’t stop smiling at how adorable you were, and you reached up to him with weak arms, wanting him to hold you. You stammered his name softly, still deep in the subby clouds, and he gave in once he cleaned his face.

“I’m coming, doll, no tears,” he hummed, pulling you onto his lap.

“Don’t like it when you edge me,” you whispered, mumbling softly. He laughed and you buried yourself deeper into him, pulling the blanket tighter over the two of you.

“I’m done edging you,” Bucky promised, handing you a glass of water and gently urging you to drink it. He went through all of the steps of your aftercare, his full attention on you as he broke you out of your cloudy head.

“Next time I’m upset from work, can you just bend me over your knee?” You teased Bucky shyly.

“If you ask nicely.”

You promised to be nice, grinning as he squeezed you in a hug.

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