#but not too slow because i'm impatient

[masterjedilenawrites]

In Other Words: Hold My Hand - Chapter 1

Weee look at me, starting another story when I have so many others left to finish 🙃 To be fair, I started this one a while ago and fully intended to get it off the ground sooner. But, you know, life. So after a sudden burst of creativity and motivation (while caught in throes of my Hux BS), here we are, chapter one ready to be released into the world. Just don't ask me when chapter two will come...

Part One: Hold My Hand

Chapter One

Hux x fem!reader | 2.4k words

Content warnings: Mention of torture/interrogation, mention of childhood abuse

It was a mystery how you'd ended up in this exact spot you currently found yourself in. The sequence of events themselves were fairly straightforward. There'd been an unexpected skirmish between some First Order troopers and your band of Resistance fighters; you and your best friend Nat had jumped foolishly into the fray despite only just having started your combat training; the Order had unsurprisingly cornered the two of you... and then, in what she probably thought to be a brilliant move, your friend had convinced the troopers you wanted to defect and join the Order. Then there was a week of nasty interrogation to ensure your stories matched up and held true. Somehow you'd both been cleared, and now here you were, standing outside the office of who would be your supervisor aboard The Finalizer, waiting to be summoned in.

What had happened was clear enough. The mystery was understanding why it had all happened. How could there possibly be good in the galaxy when it had devised such a series of unfortunate events to set you down right here, in the thick of all you despised? How could you possibly hope to improve that galaxy from here, or at the least simply benefit your own life? There was a reason espionage and spies weren't used against the First Order - a reason you'd tried repeatedly to explain to your stubborn friend to no avail.

Damn her, you grumbled to yourself, though you knew you didn't fully mean it. Sure, she'd had the idea, but you'd gone along with it. You couldn't make her shoulder all of the blame.

A swooshing sound accompanied the sudden opening of the door in front of you. You stood at attention, coming face to face with a young officer in a smart-looking hat. He clutched a datapad in the crook of his arm as if he were keeping it there on a time-out.

He didn't seem to notice your presence until he had already stepped out of the room and made to follow the hallway to the right. He paused in a second of surprise, and then made a little scoffing noise.

"He's in quite a mood," he said and gave you a knowing look, though you weren't sure what you were supposed to know by it. "Good luck."

He swiftly stalked off, leaving the doorway in front of you open to the office beyond. Fluorescent lights glowed from the ceilings inside, giving you a chance to scope out what you were walking into. Most of the room was bare up here by the door; too bare, like there was supposed to be more furniture but it had disappeared somehow. The back half of the room was more naturally filled. A large bookcase stood tall and proud along the back wall, boasting of thick tomes and unique trinkets. To the side was a low counter with a few liquor bottles and mixers. There was also a small box of some kind in the corner, with a carpeted top and a hole in the side. You weren't sure what it was for.

And placed before all of it, directly in the center, just before the threshold you now found yourself crossing, as if dividing the room between emptiness and warmth, was a large desk made of dark wood and brass furnishings. A lone chair sat in front of it for guests, while the office's owner sat in his own chair on the other side.

Hunched in his chair, was more like it. The position almost could have obscured his identity from you as you tried to get your nerves under control. But alas, the ginger hair still gave him away.

You choked.

"What," he drawled with annoyance, not bothering to look up from the work that occupied him on his desk.

Hux. The General Hux. The face of the First Order and all its terrifying advancements. He was to be your supervisor? What a cruel joke the universe was playing on you.

You stood in shocked silence, which seemed to annoy him further as he huffed and finally looked up. Whatever reproach he was prepared to give vanished as he took in your appearance.

"Who are you?" 

You swallowed hard under his gaze. Never in your life did you think you'd come face to face with this man, and now here you were, mere feet away, donning the uniform of his people and completely under his authority.

Oh you were going to kill your friend for this.

"I..." Your throat felt like it was constricting. Panic would soon overtake you if you didn't shake free of its grasp now. As you'd learned in your interrogation, it would not do to show any sign of weakness in this place, not even a bit of hesitancy. And you would need that strategy even more with General Hux watching you.

You cleared your throat quickly and straightened up further. "I believe I am to be your new assistant, sir. They sent me here to report for duty."

Hux regarded you for a moment and then leaned back in his chair with a quirked eyebrow. He didn't seem annoyed anymore, but there was a sort of sneering curiosity that took its place, and you weren't sure which you'd rather be dealing with in this moment.

"Ah, yes. Deserters from the Resistance. I was so surprised by the news, I had to see one of you for myself."

He paused to gauge your reaction, though you didn't have one. You were too preoccupied with keeping yourself standing upright in his presence.

"We don't get many rebels willing to join our ranks. Though when it does happen, it's always right at the moment they have a blaster to their heads. Curious, isn't it?"

You cleared your throat. "I suppose it is, sir."

"You will call me General," he said cooly.

"Yes, General," you obeyed promptly.

He studied you for a moment, no expression on his face to indicate anything he could be thinking. Surely he was suspicious of you; he'd be foolish not to be. And you suspected that's why you were to be his assistant. In case you were a spy of some sort. You'd be in proximity to a tempting amount of good intel, but wouldn't be able to do anything with it under the General's watchful gaze. He was clever one, you'd give him that.

Though what he was considering about you now was beyond you. Maybe he was changing his mind, saw the nerves you were so desperately trying to hide, deciding playing such a game with you wouldn't be worth the trouble.

"I expect an itinerary of the next day's events on my desk each evening by 8," he finally said. He quickly moved through his words as if he'd had to recite them numerous times, and you briefly wondered how many assistants this man had gone through before you finally realized you should probably be paying closer attention. "You will also maintain reports on the health of each department I oversee, filter any feedback or escalated concerns from the department heads, and share only the most important for my attention. You will accompany me to all non-confidential meetings and take down notes...."

He trailed off and sported a small smirk.

"Do you wish to take some down now?"

You quickly nodded, hating how he was already finding ways to subtly undercut your competency.

He opened a drawer and fished out a data pad, handing it over to you and gesturing to the opposite chair, all the while maintaining that smirk. You fiddled with the device and tried to quickly note down what he'd said so far. You could feel him watching you. Your fingers shook from the anxiety of it all.

When you finally looked up at him, his face was back into something more neutral. 

"Ready?" he asked softly. You realized he was being patient, an incredible relief to your nerves, so you tried for a smile with your response.

"Yes, General."

He nodded and continued, speaking almost a mile an hour as if through a well-rehearsed speech, and you did your best to keep pace. Your notes were a jumbled mess of various times and tasks, preferences and expectations. You hoped you'd be able to make sense of them later. One missed detail, and you suspected you'd be booted off the ship faster than you could say dank farrick.

"And finally," he said at last, and you couldn't help but let out the breath you'd been holding the past ten minutes, "this may go without saying but I shall state it anyway so we are perfectly clear. You will not be allowed access to outside communications."

He leveled a hard look at you, one that spoke volumes louder than his words.

"I have also waived your right to any leaves of absence. Until you have gained my full and complete trust."

You nodded, suspecting as much.

"And in all transparency, there is not a single soul in this galaxy who has managed to earn my full and complete trust. Do I make myself clear?"

You nodded again, unable to keep his gaze. A part of you was sinking at the thought. You were trapped aboard this ship. No sky, no sea, no trees. Just sterile walls and shiny floors and an endless expanse of empty space behind a viewport. You could very well die here and never feel sand beneath your toes again.

General Hux stood, and you quickly rose to match.

"That said, it will be to our mutual benefit for you to take this position seriously. I run a very tight ship so I expect nothing less than professional excellence from you."

"Yes, sir. General. Sorry. Yes, General."

He gave an almost imperceptible sigh through your flustering. You certainly weren't inspiring any confidence in your ability to do this job, not when you kept remembering how dangerously thin a line you walked here. And though you didn't exactly want to be here, you'd be damned if you were ever thought of as less than good enough.

"You are dismissed." He waved a hand as he sat back down again, his attention already returned to the stack of papers he'd been pouring over before your arrival. You were more than grateful to finally be allowed out of this situation. The emotions you'd been bottling in needed to be let out. You wasted no time in turning on your heel and scurrying away.

"Oh, one more thing," he said just before you could open the door to your freedom. "You'll be given the rank of Second Lieutenant. It means nothing other than to ensure you have proper security clearance to accompany me when needed. You can pick up your badge and insignia at the security office."

This information, as well as all you'd noted down, weighed on you as you finally made it out the door. You walked down the hall in a daze, not knowing where you were going, entirely too fixated on this bizarre situation you found yourself in. You were a Second Lieutenant aboard a First Order ship, serving directly under General Hux, and banned from even so much as glimpsing a life outside of this one. You'd never be able to see your friends or family again. In fact, you'd be helping fight against them now. Whatever service you performed for the General would be in service to the war he waged against your people.

You paused in your wandering to lean against the nearest wall, grateful that whatever part of the ship you were in didn't have much foot traffic. The side of your head rested against the cool steel walls and your eyes closed in a fight against the tears that threatened to burst forth. You focused on your breathing. In and out. In and out. No thinking, no feeling. Just breathe.

You stayed like this an undeterminable amount of time before slowly reopening your eyes and coming back to the present moment. How long the calming effects of your meditation would last, who knew, but at least you were now numb enough to get back to the tasks at hand. You'd need to find the security office. And your room, or bunks, or wherever they intended to have you sleep around here. And perhaps most importantly, you'd need to find your friend.

If not to ensure she was alright, than at least to give her a piece of your mind.

* * *

Hux watched as discreetly as he could the disappearing form of the woman who was to be his new assistant. Even after the door slid shut behind her, his gaze still lingered on the spot she had last been.

He'd come to expect timidness from all who found themselves in his presence these days. His reputation had grown quickly and held fast, much to his relief. He still felt like he'd came into this position, this war even, much too quickly to have any real sense of confidence about it. Not that he'd let anyone see, of course, which was why he was grateful he at least had the skill of being able to put on a good show, to mask the insecurities he privately fought. Years of abuse and neglect were to thank for that.

But this woman, this rebel-turned-deserter, was throwing him off. She had been timid, yes, but had also shown all the other telltale signs of someone wanting his approval. Compliance, politeness, even a bit of pride. As if she had been raised in an old Imperial household and came here to work her way up the ladder of power with the rest of them, but still viewing him with a sort of fearful reverence.

It perplexed him. To what end was she here? An honest wish to change sides seemed unlikely, which only left the option of her being a spy. But that didn't fit the facts well, either. As a spy, she'd either be a good actor and show no signs of fear, or she'd be terrible at keeping on a game face and have no tact at all. She displayed both. He didn't know what to make of her.

He sighed, realizing he'd been endlessly ruminating again, and as a result could feel that familiar tension of an oncoming headache in his forehead. He shook himself, as if that would dispel the strain, and tried to focus back on his work.

He'd made her his assistant for a reason, to keep an eye on her, and to an extent her friend. He'd figure out their intentions soon enough, he'd just need to interact with her more.

~ ~ ~

Everything Tag: @damerondala, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @misogirl828, @itsagrimm, @error6gendernotfound, @theroguesully, @clonesimp, @techie-bear, @sleepycreativewriter

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#star wars #hux x reader #general hux #armitage hux #first order #assistant!reader #fem!reader #friend!oc #eventual fluff #probably a slow burn #but not too slow because i'm impatient #the only one bed trope will make an appearance #and plenty of emotional constipation #pride and prejudice vibes perhaps #hand flex anyone?? #canon noncompliant #ooc hux (probably) #i need him to work through his trauma okay #with the help of sweet caring reader #what else can be shoved into this vague outline i have #open to ideas #i want to please the hux girlies out there #we deserve some good hux content

[arctic-hands]

I like having joined a book fandom that's still new and fresh cause we get to nerdily bond as we devour a release of a new book in the series and I get to see all the theories and discussions and memes in real time as opposed to years later when everyone else knows how it ends so I have to block the fandom bc of spoilers. It's a feeling I haven't had since a teenager bc as of late I drag my ass into a fandom like a decade after its hayday and miss all the fun stuff

But it sucks ass that I am no longer as weirdly and eerily patient like I was as a child and the nine month wait for Heavenly Tyrant to come out is driving me crazy

#iron widow #no for real i would freak out adults with how calmly and quietly I'd be patiently waiting for something to happen #it's because of the psychotic bipolar making time go past me in hyper time and hours seemed like five minutes to me starting in fourth grade #literally at one point in fourth grade i got sick of time flying for a few weeks that during quiet reading time i just burst out asking #'is time going by really fast for anyone else this year?' no one had any fucking clue what i was talking about lmafo #having a very overactive imagination helped too because even if i was bored while being patient i could entertain myself in my head #i would and still do craft elaborate stories in my head that i have no hope in writing down skilfully #so I'm not very often bored even as an adult #but goddamn am i incredibly less patient now that I'm on an antipsycotic now lol rip #time slowed down and now i have to experience instead of blinking it away #which ngl did ease up my anxiety over dying some day because I'm no longer in a maglev heading towards mortality in a few hours #but i am ridiculously impatient now after spending two thirds of my life experiencing hypertime #trade offs

[pearl-kite]

where did all these completed IFs I played as demos come from, how am I supposed to keep up with all of them @_@

#kite rambles #I apparently purchased a mage reborn when it released and immediately forgot about it so I'm including that #cause the passenger (obvs) is out #and fernweh just dropped today #and it's like whoa slow down I only have so many brain cells for the worms #I had to slow down on playing demos because I was playing too many #and my impatience was driving me crazy #was tracking them in a fucking excel sheet ffs #and there are more on the way in the next month or two right? #so many things to reeeead

[oreoluvskento]

gojo being dangerously loud

a/n: i know this is supposed to be a nanami focused account but hear me out... whiny gojo. that's it.

cw: cunnilingus, riding, ummm gojo being drunk and loud and his baby girl moans, semi-public sex (they're in a bathroom), i am so horny and i just need him so bad

you love the sounds your boyfriend makes during sex. he's never been shameful about it either, always loud and proud about the way your pussy makes him feel. this time, however, you wish he'd shut up.

you two are currently in your friends bathroom during a drunk movie night. you were both pretty tipsy, gojo more drunk than you and you were having a great time. all of a sudden, he doubled over, making it obvious to everyone that there was something wrong and he needed a bathroom fast.

except, when you follow him in and he locks the door behind you, there is nothing wrong with him at all, besides the raging boner he was currently sporting. your eyes widened when you saw it, but the casamigos in your bloodstream was stopping you from thinking clearly and the next thing you knew, you were getting eaten out on your friends bathroom floor.

"'toru, fuck, i'm close!" you whisper, holding his head harder and he speeds up, his tongue flicking your clit constantly as his two middle fingers are going to work. when you cum, you cover your mouth with your hand as your back arches off the floor and gojo doesn't pull away. you have to manually drag him away from you and he immediately goes for your lips, making your mouth just as messy as his own.

as the two of you kiss, he sits up and pulls you against his body sitting against the bathtub. you make quick work of his pants and without wasting any time you lower yourself on him. the last thing you expected was for him to throw his head back and let out one of the sluttiest moans you had ever heard. "ahhh fuckkk!"

you quickly slap your hand against his mouth and pray to god that no one heard that. he lifts his head and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes, whimpering quietly against your hand at your pussy pulsing around him. "satoru, you've got to be quiet, baby, okay?" you ask and he nods, his cheeks red.

you finally lift your hips and before you could even go back down, a deep groan comes from his throat and you stop again. he gets impatient and pulls you down himself, dropping his forehead against yours as he moves you faster.

"mmph feels too good, can't stop," he says breathlessly against your palm, and you have to drop your head on his shoulder at the speed he was going. he truly was trying his best, but as the two of you went on, his whines got louder and louder until they were hoarse moans.

"im close, im close, please, please, please!" he cries against your skin and you take over, pressing your lips against his in the process. he moans into the kiss, his body going weak when you trade the fast movement for slow, deeper movements.

"you like it, 'toru?" you ask, your lips moving against his. he nods quickly, tears beginning to form in his eyes at the sensitivity of his dick but you don't stop.

"baby please- haaa fuckkk!" he begs squeezing your hips and you shake your head.

"promise me you'll be quiet when you cum," you instruct and he nods furiously, just wanting to feel his orgasm. you take his word for it, partly because you were ready to cum too, but you cover his mouth for safe measures.

you go faster now, grinding your hips down on his, and almost as soon as you start, you feel him start to shake and thrust into you himself. "ah, ah ahhhh fuck, fuck, fuck, cummingggg!"

before you could say anything, he holds you down, his head buried in your neck as he moans in your ear and your orgasm hits as well, spurring him on. "ohh shitshitshit too much too much fuuuck!" he cries, holding your body against his as you ride your orgasm out. right when you finish, you hear a knock on the door and your friend's concerned voice.

"hey, is he okay in there, do you guys need help?" her voice rings out and your eyes widen.

"yeah, he's okay, just drank a bit too much!" you shout back and turn back to look at your boyfriend. "cough," you instruct and he does just that. you reach to the side and flush the toilet and pretend to pat his back. "that's okay, get it all out."

"okay, there's some water in the kitchen for him when he's done," she says and leaves. you let out a sigh of relief and drop your head on a slightly sobered up gojo's chest.

"my bad," he whispers and you roll your eyes as you stand up.

"shut up."

#jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n

[shotmrmiller]

whenever simon needs a lay, he doesn't go for girls like you: all snarky attitude and self-assuredness in that hole-in-the-wall bar with the peeling wallpaper, dim lighting, and sagging ceiling tiles. he wants those insecure things; the soft, quiet ones who've been recently dumped and are drinking away their woes. the ones who'll take him to theirs in a drunken haze and wake up startled, kicking him out of the front door without their number and an embarrassed forget this ever happened.

can do, sweetheart. (see ya never.)

but you've caught his interest. maybe it was the way your face was bare— pockmarks on your cheeks and eyebrows untamed—yet you exuded confidence not even that loud bimbo with the fake lashes and vibrant ruby lipstick could ever recreate. maybe it was the way you held your own against that drunken man who attempted to grab a handful of arse over your faded, torn jeans, catching his pathetic bollocks and giving them a gnarly twist.

who knows. who cares.

what matters is that you've caught him by complete surprise.

he figured you were the type to want a firm hand. a couple of harsh slaps to your cheeks (both top and bottom), a fistful of your hair in his grip to pull, and to fuck you into the mattress until your body was imprinted on it.

wrong.

the moment he pulled your hair taut, you'd immediately tangled your clever fingers into his chest hair. "i'm no horse, brit. my hair isn't reins for you to lead me around with."

then he tried to bend you over his knee. proper brat like you needs to be put in'er place.

also wrong. "not that either. not yet anyway."

and then he's wrong a third time because you're no passive participant.

he sloppily eats your cunt like it's his first meal since coming back from urzikstan— warm tongue, thick fingers, and the occasional pinch of his crooked teeth on your swollen bundle of nerves. when he tries to pull away, your entrance more than slick enough to take him without much discomfort, you fervently dig your heels into the scarred tissue of his strong back., stopping him in his tracks.

"you stop 'til i finish and not a moment sooner." his whiskey breath is warm between your legs when he huffs out, "affirm." you're fluttering around his hand in minutes when you start to direct him on how you like it, which he supposes is fortunate for you since he's real good at taking orders and even better at obeying them.

your climax is sweet in his mouth with a subtle hint of brine. the exact opposite of you, he finds. simon doesn't even get the chance to tell you to say anything because you're flipping onto your knees and shoving his rigid length into your mouth. he can't help the strangled sound that escapes him when the tip of him touches the back of your throat, constricting when you gag.

bloody hell.

you look up at him; wide, glassy eyes and sunken cheeks and it's pathetic how he can already feel himself on the precipice of ecstasy and he hasn't even gotten to the good part.

when he watches you place a condom in your mouth and roll it on his cock without hands, simon had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of england to stop the fire that threatened to light him ablaze.

alrigh', enough. on your back.

"no. get on yours."

your small hands push against his barrel chest, gesturing he lie back— today preferably.

impatient bint.

you ignore that quip, opting to wrap your fingers around his thick base and sink onto him in one smooth motion.

slow, don't want ya hurtin' ya'self.

he gnaws on his tongue painfully— almost cutting it open with his canine— to keep from finishing because, bloody fuckin' hell, do you feel like the heaven he'll never see.

simon's hands curl and tighten around the swell of your hips— his blunt, square nails digging into your sensitive skin. "easy," you hiss, "i bruise like a peach."

taste like it, too.

you look so sweet, so pliant while being split open on his cock, hot cunt sodden with your earlier release— it sends mind-numbing arousal tingling up his spine, feeling it at the base of his skull. simon grunts when you begin to move, a languid up and down, gentle but firm. spots dance in his vision when you take all of him, his bollocks flush against your arse.

pretty thing with fire in your eyes taking him so well even though others have needed breaks to work up to it. muscle memory takes over then, his callused fingers automatically searching for your swollen clit, but you slap them away. "too sensitive, i'd only be uncomfortable."

yes ma'am.

you chuckle at that, pussy fluttering as you do and simon hisses through his clenched teeth.

keep tha' up 'nd i'll be done before the fun even starts.

this time you clamp down on purpose, your cunt squeezing his cock like a silken fist. "wouldn't that just be a shame. old man like yourself only got one in you?" the playful taunt sinks its teeth into the ego he's never cared about— leaving behind a mark that stings and lingers— and the lieutenant rears his head, if only for a moment.

watch it.

your eyes widen fractionally but your lips curl at the corners in amusement. "sorry, sir." minx.

his thoughts dissolve like sugar in hot tea once your hips began to rise and fall again, this time a much quicker pace. he surrenders to your unsatiable passion-- a hungry beast, feeding on want, on need-- with only his obsidian-black mask as witness.

for the first time in months (since price bent him over his desk post-op that one time) he's the one getting fucked.

and when you plant your feet by his sides, when your hips cant at the slightest of angles, his flared head presses against something firm and his world ceases to exist, the intensity of now reaching its peak.

when he comes to, your sweat-slick body trembles with effort, your pretty cunt still stuffed to the brim with his softening length. but he's not done with you yet, not by a long shot. now it's his turn.

in a quick movement, you find yourself on your back, looking up at simon, and the mewl that falls from your lips bounces off of the spartan white walls when he hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, and claims you again.

he plans on leaving a delicious ache between your legs that won't let you forget this night-- at least not for the next few days. (not like you could, i mean look at him. plus, he's going to magically forget his gloves here, maybe his pack of cigarettes. he's also definitely jotting down his phone number somewhere.)

forgive me i'm tired now so i lost some air at the end hehehe

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x f reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #simon riley smut

[arminsumi]

DO IT RIGHT — 五夏

SatoSugu ⋅ fem reader

🔞 suggestive / partly n.sfw

SUMMARY — Suguru and Satoru each have their own differing ideas of what makes a good make out session.

WARNINGS — make outs n kissing, SatoSugu, jealousy, light angst, they fight over u, lovably annoying gojo, calling you sl*t playfully, "dirty girl" n maybe other nicknames, smidge of sexual tension/undertones ig

WORDCOUNT — 2.4k

TAGS for the lovelies !! 💗

@buttercupmuffins

" Slow and sensual; that's how it's supposed to be done, Satoru. You rush your kisses. You're too chaotic. "

" Yuh but I get more bitches than y — "

" — when was the last time you kissed a woman ? "

" Junior high. "

Suguru started cackling. The two of them were sat in your living room apartment. You peered at them from over your computer, the blue light glaring in your eyes.

" What the fuck are you two on about ? " you asked, taking your earphones out completely and halting the progress of your essay.

" None of your business. "

You sighed in response. That was such an expected response from Satoru.

" We were debating what makes a good make out session. You know, like ' fast or slow ' ? ' Chaotic or sensual ' ? Mister six eyes over here has opposition to my beliefs as usual — don't fuckin' wink at me, you freak. "

Satoru giggled. " Of course, 'cause your beliefs are flawed and quite frankly you're full of shit. Blech. Hey, you agree, don't you ? "

You looked up in thought for yourself.

" I don't know. See, chaotic movie-like kisses are something lots of people want. But then again, lots of people prefer slow and romantic kisses. They really want to intertwine bodies with their lover and — "

Suguru completed your thought.

" — and become one with each other. Yeah, you get me. "

" Hey now, I'm not saying I agree with either of you. I haven't even kissed one of you. Maybe you're both shit at kissing, now that I think 'bout it. Haha. " you chuckled to yourself.

The boys raised their brows at you. Ah, a common ground; both taking offense from you.

" Why don't you come over here 'n experiment with us, princess ? " Suguru murmured condescendingly. His earrings caught your eye.

Your stomach dropped. " Huh ? " you blinked dumbly.

" Don't get all coy with us now. Come over here. " Suguru teased.

Satoru arched a brow at you and smirked. " Yeah, come. You can help us settle this debate. "

" Mhm. " Suguru nodded.

You were reluctant, because... well, this could fuck up the friendship, right? They didn't seem to mind that, as they entrapped you between their bodies and kept you there. Imprisoned between their competing passion.

" Me first ? "

" Uh, no way, asshole. Me first. "

" I'll choose. "

" Nah, let's flip a coin. "

So they flipped a coin at Satoru's insistence.

" Call it. " Suguru said.

" Heads. " Satoru called.

You observed Suguru's attractive, veiny hands as he tossed the coin and caught it, smacking it onto the back of his hand.

" . . . heads. " Suguru groaned.

" Yay . . . smooches for Satoru. " Satoru cheered.

" You're so cringe. " you said, crinkling your nose.

" Shut up or I'll stick my tongue down your throat — "

" — you mean you weren't planning to do that ? What a pity. I like French kissing. " you teased.

That caught the boys attention. They exchanged a look, and now a tension built up between you three.

" Okay, if you want me to, then I will. " Satoru tried to remain confident, but the idea of French kissing you was destroying his cool composure.

" I want you to. So get to it, boy. " you said.

Suguru raised his brows at Satoru and smirked. He sat to your left, long leg propped along the edge of the couch, encasing you there.

Just before Satoru leaned in to kiss you, swift and cheeky as he was, Suguru interrupted with a quick, teacher-like stutter.

" Hey, nonono. We're setting a timer. Five minutes each, precisely. "

" Of course. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " Well hurry up then. "

" Impatient much ? " you chuckled under your breath. Satoru went a bit red.

The split second Suguru started the timer on his phone, Satoru engulfed you in a kiss that nearly knocked the wind out of you. He was chaotic. Feverish. Gliding those candied lips across yours was up there with the best decisions he's ever made.

He tilted his head into the kiss, tongue swiping and slipping in eagerly to play with yours. And with how he French kissed, you almost wanted to giggle; he was so playful.

Suguru watched. And observed. And thought about how he's going to win you over with his approach to kissing. What you needed, he thought while seeing how Satoru whimpered into your mouth, was a sensual man who takes his time.

" Time's up. "

" What the fu- "

A string of saliva connected you and Satoru, his lips felt tingly and he still wanted more even after devouring you.

" Five minutes go by so quick . . . "

" Uh-huh. When you're having fun. Sooo ? " Satoru looked at you expectantly.

" Rather hold back your judgment until you've tasted me, hm ? " Suguru stopped you before you made any comment on his best friend's kissing style. " Come on. Come closer. I don't bite. " he said, making the last part sound so sultry that a shiver ran down your spin.

Now Suguru . . . oh boy, Suguru. How he kissed. You were already dizzy from Satoru's fervor. But Suguru ? One little peck at your chin to test. Then he pressed teasing, leadup kisses to the corner of your lips.

" Su — " he muffled your call of his name with his lips, drinking up the rest of the syllables like a thirsty wolf.

His big hands molded to the back of your head, tangling up into your hair. Tilt tilt tilt. Press. Such a deep and hard kiss. You felt like your perception of reality got fucked up a little for a moment there.

He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, wetting it, and once you opened your mouth for him he just smirked at your acceptance. In his mind, he was aiming to kiss you like he was converting you. Damn near kissed like a cult leader, you don't know why but you thought of that description right then.

That buttery soft tongue made you moan. The sound caught both the boy's off-guard.

And then the poor white-haired boy started glaring.

" Okay, okay, time's basically up. "

" Hmmmf ? " you looked dazed.

" How much time was left before you just cancelled that ? " Suguru squinted annoyedly at his best friend, hands still keeping you in place. His lips were barely parted from yours, so every shake of subtle anger in his vocals vibrated subtly across your lips.

" I dunno, fifty-two seconds ? "

" That's almost a whole minute left you asshole ! "

" Yeah so ?! You gonna fight me over it, big boy ? " Satoru challenged.

" What are you getting so jealous for ? "

You widened your eyes at the argument springing to life. The air felt so tense and hot. You could feel their heats radiating from their faces as they flushed from anger.

" What are you kissing her so deeply for ? Are you trying to fucking prove something ? "

" Oooooooh, pretty boy is jealous jealous. " Suguru said venomously.

" Boys, please don't fight. This is not such a big deal. " your voice came in between them.

They looked at you bitterly.

" Whose kiss did you like better ? " Satoru asked.

" Mine. No offence, but Satoru you kiss like a fucking high schooler. "

Satoru clenched his jaw. " I was asking her — not you, Suguru, baby. "

Oh he's angry angry you thought. Satoru always used nicknames with people he liked, but when the word baby came out of his mouth in that tone? God have mercy on whoever's on the receiving end. Unless it was someone who could match that intensity...

" I'll tell you what I liked and disliked about both of you . . . to be fair. Okay ? How's that sound, boys ? "

God they loved it when you called them like that. Yeah, they're your boys alright. They loved being your boys.

" Okay . . . sure. That's fair. Go ahead. " Suguru said. A small nervousness crept across his chest, but he hid it well.

You paused for just a moment to collect your thoughts.

" Damn just spill already ! "

" Let her think, Satoru. Impatient bitch. "

" I will fucking bite you. "

" Then bite me. "

" Boys. Calm down. "

So they listened. Your word was supreme, after all. If you told them to stop, they stopped.

You tilted your head and slowly began laying the truth on them. " I liked the way you held the back of my head so possessively, it was really hot . . . " you told, directing at Suguru.

Satoru grimaced. Why didn't he do that? He was mentally kicking himself.

" . . . but I preferred how dramatically you kissed me. " you directed to the sulking white-haired boy. Then his features lightened a bit.

" And ? " Suguru encouraged, eager to hear more praises.

They leaned in very close for the fact they were just listening to you speak.

" I didn't like how sloppy and wet Satoru was. "

Satoru cringed at himself. He was very self-conscious about being a sloppy kisser.

" Haha, sloppy kisser. "

" Suguru shut the fuck up. "

You quickly turned down the heat between them and knocked Suguru off his high horse.

" You're a bit of a show-off kisser, not as romantic as I imagined you to be. It feels like you were trying too hard to win me over, or something. "

Oh, he hated that you could deduce that. He really thought he had you.

" Fair enough . . . " it was his turn to sulk.

Satoru smirked. " So you prefer me ? " he winked, " I mean, of course you do. "

" No. I like both of you. "

" Okay, slut. " Satoru rolled his eyes. " If you had to choose — "

" Don't worry about offending us, we can take it. "

" Yeah right, you're gonna fucking cry if she chooses me. " Satoru cheeked.

The tension rose between them again. But this time, there was this... oddly violent passion. Some sort of suppressed, stifled romanticness brewed between them. It's always underlined their conversations before, even their arguments. This indescribable, undeniable tension — not the jokingly " I'm so gay for my best friend " stuff. No, something genuine. Something that was not a joke.

" Why don't you kiss each other ? " you blurted out.

Satoru looked at you like you were crazy. " What the fuck ? "

" I mean, to make it fair . . . and get better insight into how the both of you kiss ? I-I don't know, just a thought. "

" Just a thought ? A horny thought I bet. " Satoru chuckled. He was going red in the face. And so was Suguru.

" What the hell. I'm innocent. " you defended.

" Riiight. "

Suguru had been thoughtfully quiet. Then he finally spoke.

" . . . I'm down. "

" WHAT. " Satoru freaked out. His face went completely red now. You could feel how hot he was.

" Yeah let's go for it. " Suguru shrugged.

He froze up. His heart palpitated. Stomach dropped. Eyes went blown wide open.

" I-I-I yeah ? Okay ? Sure. Yeah. Alright. Then. Let's. Do — it. "

" Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you stutter like this, Satoru. " you teased.

" Shut up ?! Shut up. Let's just do it and get it over with. "

" Yeah. Okay. Come here. "

" What the fu- you come here. "

Suguru raised his brows at him. " Seriously ? "

" I'm more dom than you. " Satoru said proudly. " Come here. "

" Nah, you come here. "

" No way ! "

You sighed. " Wow, this is going to take a while. "

" Nonono, we're doing it — " he kissed him, " — see ? "

" Satoru, such a cute peck. We're supposed to make out. That's what you want, right Y/n ? "

You stomach flipped. His tone. His damn tone. That cocky glint in his eyes. Suguru was so teasingly seductive right then.

" Y-yeah. For five minutes. Just like we did. "

" Okay. Set a timer. "

Satoru looked like he was shocked from how fast he just kissed his best friend. Such a short peck had his stomach doing loopies. You could tell he was going through a crisis.

" 'kay, timer's on. "

So they melted their lips against each other right in front of you. Satoru was stiff at first, but loosened up the deeper he fell into his best friend's kiss. More than that, he succumbed to the sultry feelings that Suguru radiated. You know, he just had that thing about him. That air. He was alluring and enticing, almost dangerously so at times.

You listened. Watched. Glanced down at the timer. Really, you set a stopwatch, not a timer. A little experiment. You wanted to see how long they'd take to realize how long they've been kissing for.

And it's well over five minutes. Lips smacking, heads tilting, bodies coming closer. Suguru's bangs brushing over Satoru's cheeks, hands cupping his flushed cheeks. What a sight. Two pretty best friends going breathless over each other.

" 'how long's it been ? " Satoru mumbles in between kisses, totally in a dazed state.

You hide your smirk. " Just a bit left. "

Suguru gave you a suspicious side eye. Oh, butterflies. He caught onto you right then.

He thought;

Well if you want us to put on a show, we'll put on a show. Just for you.

And dipped his tongue between Satoru's parted lips, erotically swirling around — slow, sensual, languid.

" ahmmm ~ " Satoru almost made a noise close to a moan, and then got embarrassed.

You gulped and watched. Did they forget they were doing this in front of you? Your face was right there.

You stared hard.

Suguru smirked and parted from the kiss, holding the face of a dazed-looking Satoru in the palms of his hands as he spoke to you.

" Did you even set a timer ? Ah, whatever. Stop staring, dirty girl. Come join the fun. Three's company, you know ? "

#五夏 #mdni #it's spicy #gojo #geto #love triangle #gojo x geto #gojo x geto x you #gojo x geto x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #gojo fic #satoru gojo x you #satoru smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru #jujutsu kaisen

[psychronia]

I've been rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender because why not and I'm losing my mind at Zuko's proper introduction. I don't know if it's hindsight, shifting characterizations, or just me not watching this in a long time, but this was amazing.

We start off showing he's an impatient and very angry kid. Reasonable, and the sort of flaw we might expect to see in a villain. Kinda funny that he expects to go up against an adult and fully 4-Element realized Avatar, but the kid is desperate and Iroh clearly expects his nephew to get the banishment-denial kicked out of him.

What's important here, though, is Zuko's introduction to the Southern Water Tribe.

Here, we have a very intimidating entrance where his entire ship just sails through the ice right up to the village's front door. It's quite ominous and this is our first proper introduction to how the Fire Nation interacts with a foreign people.

Sokka charges, I'm assuming fully prepared to die, and Zuko casually knocks him out of the way. Okay, so clearly the Water Tribe are entirely outgunned.

He asks "Where are you hiding him?" and the people of the Water Tribe go silent. I assume they're either just too scared to talk or actually protecting Aang.

Whatever the case, it's important to note that the Southern Water Tribe know the terror the Fire Nation can inflict. We have a whole episode dedicated to tracking down a division of raiders. Sokka was able to not only identify the ash-mixed snow as signs of an incoming attack, but estimate how many ships the amount of ash measures to. These are a people who have experience being terrorized and are probably expecting something terrible to happen.

And then, after they don't answer, Zuko grabs Gran-Gran. There was a horror sting to it, and everything the tribe knows about the Fire Nation suggests that Zuko is about to threaten or straight up hurt her to get answers. Classic "terrorize the elderly" bad guy stuff.

And then...

He goes "He's (the Avatar) be about this age and is a master of all four elements!?" and lets her go.

And all of a sudden, the tension that was built up is shattered as Zuko went "I know, I'll give them a reference for the person I'm looking for because clearly they're confused and I wasn't specific enough."

This went from a show of villainy to a show of Zuko being totally socially awkward and misreading the situation entirely. Not helping is that when he does try to menace them a moment later, his fire is slow and angled quite safely.

It still worked on the Water Tribe because they're understandably scared, but all I could think of is that this was the equivalent of a playground bully trying to make someone flinch with that fake-out lunge thing.

Because the fact-and something we'll come to learn-is that Zuko is TERRIBLE at being a Fire Nation oppressor. He's capable of doing morally dubious things and is a competent fighter. But he's lousy at terrorizing people and cruelty-that's kind of the point of his banishment.

And while we can see the story paint this picture of Zuko's true character as the story goes on with hints of good and conflicting loyalties, here we get to see just how bad he is at being "the bad guys".

#avatar the last airbender #atla #you're not an imperialistic conqueror you're a BABY #a BABY BEAN #diffused tension #bad at being bad #can you imagine how horrible this would have played out if Azula was the one that came? #psychronia

[madschiavelique]

okay so once miguel accidentally flashed his happy trail to his gf, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, constantly staring at his abdomen when she thought miguel didn’t see her (he did 😁). they just recently started dating, she was shy and inexperienced but she is just a human after all 😔 she lasted a week before she came to him looking embarrassed, desperate and defeated “miggy can you teach me how to suck your dick please 🥺👉🏻👈🏻”

long story short we need some good old dick appreciation 😉

AAAAA THIS IS SO SWEET i love it hehehe

summary : you ask miguel to teach you how to suck his dick (not proofread)

contents warning : SMUT (18+) minors dni, blow job (miguel receiving), lots of praise, miguel is so sweet and patient in this word count : 2,9k

All it had taken was a casual glance, and your mind was infatuated with the idea. You were spending some time in Miguel's quarters when it happened, when your eyes were blessed by the sight before you.

He'd just got out of the shower, and as he hurriedly pulled on his T-shirt on the way out, his untied jogging bottoms had dropped slightly until your eyes drifted to his stomach and you saw it: his happy trail.

You'd only seen it for a brief moment, Miguel's T-shirt covering it all too shortly after that blessed vision, and his hands properly re-tying the elastic of his jogging bottoms.

But it was enough to occupy your thoughts for days. As he was often dressed in his spider suit, you had very little opportunity to think about seeing it again, other than in its civilian clothes. But that didn't stop you from occasionally glancing down at his belly, and sometimes even lower. The moments when you realised what your eyes were looking for were often followed by a flush in your cheeks and the back of your neck.

It's just that... you didn't necessarily have a great deal of experience in this field, and you were immensely curious. You also wondered if Miguel was holding back. You'd already talked about it, and you wanted to take it slow, because after all you and Miguel hadn't been dating for very long.

But you were getting impatient by the day, so you tried to visit him a little more in his private appartment. Miguel seemed to find this suspicious, but how could you explain to him that your thoughts had been riveted on a single subject for days, and that was his happy trail and what was below it ?

You were trying to convince him to wear civilian clothes more often, using arguments along the lines of "when we're together you don't need to wear the suit, you wear it mainly for work, so when you're with me you don't need to wear it."

And then, you thought maybe giving him a blow job would relax him? He seemed so tense quite often, and you wanted him to feel good, you wanted to make him feel good.

And as the days went by, the questions multiplied. Is it big ? Of course it is, but how big ? Could your hand grab him properly or would you struggle with the width ? How did he taste in your mouth? What sounds would he make when you'd lick him ? How do you even... give a blow job ?

It was when your curiosity became unbearable and your own questions too much for you that one afternoon, while you were sitting in Miguel's apartment and he hadn't yet returned, you asked Lyla:

"Lyla, send me a good article on How To Give A Blow Job, please."

The orange pixel cloud had almost immediately taken off its heart-shaped tinted glasses.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, eyes wide while her programmed eyelids fluttered as she watched you, "a good article on what?"

"You heard me very right, your system is 100% perfect: I want you to give me a good article on-"

"Yeah yeah i get it i'm just, um, surprised." she admitted, a virtual screen forming in the form of a tablet in her hands as she paused, hesitating and turning to you, "would you perhaps be interested in... different material?"

You raised an eyebrow, taking your computer and resting it on your thighs.

"What material ?"

"Well you know, the material," she replied with a little shrug.

"Huh?" you said, frowning as Lyla raised her eyebrows completely, as if taken aback by your answer.

"Let me just send you a link," she replied, sighing.

Within seconds, you received a link and opened it. It took you to a video that launched instantly. You gasped, immediately pausing and closing your computer. But your eyes had caught it well: two naked people, a woman lying between a man's legs as she took him in her mouth.

You hesitated between finding a way to fry Lyla's motherboard or congratulating her, but in the end you did neither. Any learning ways still brings knowledge somehow, right ?

You took a deep breath, then hesitantly reopened your computer. The page was still open, the video stopped on a scene that could not have been more erotic. Perhaps learning the basics wouldn't be too much?

So you started the video, turning the sound down to almost minimum, and watched. You tried to pay attention to the woman's gestures, how her hands acted, how she angled her head, how she...

"Cariño?"

The speed with which you closed the page and your computer surprised even you as you faced Miguel. Shit, he'd got home earlier than you thought, and you just hoped he hadn't heard too much…

"Oh babe you're home!" you say jovially, trying to act as if nothing had happened, hoping he hadn't noticed. "How was your day?"

He was standing up straight, one of his eyebrows raised. He took a step.

"Were you watching what I think you were watching?"

Shit, he'd definitely noticed. How could you want to escape from a spider on a situation like this with tenfold senses? You bit the inside of your lip nervously, feeling your cheeks heat up. Who knows, though, as long as he hadn't said exactly what he thought you'd seen, you might have a chance of getting out of this... however slim the chances?

"And," you asked as he took another step in your direction, your hands moving your laptop to the side as you turned to face him, cross-legged, "what do you think I was watching?"

He let out a little laugh from his nose, his tongue running over his canine teeth as he moved a little closer to you again.

"Don't play this little game with me." he said simply, your lips pressing into a thin line, "I think you and I both exactly know what was on that screen of yours just a few seconds ago."

You sighed, your shoulders relaxing with the gesture as he approached again, only a metre from the bed.

"Well yes, i was watching... what you think it is." he nodded as he crossed his arms over his vast torso.

"Porn," he affirmed, the word falling easily from his lips.

"Yes," you said with an embarrassed chuckle, "that's the name for it..." you nodded, his eyes watching you, no doubt trying to find out the reason behind this. "But I had my own reasons to do so, of course," you said to clear your throat.

"Which were?" his responses to your sentences were so quick that they seemed to stick to your every word.

You inhaled, straightening up, suddenly determined. The vision of his happy-trail came back into your mind, your eyes inevitably landing on where it must have been under the suit.

"Miguel," your eyes returned to his, "I want you to teach me how to suck your dick, please."

There was silence for a few seconds before Miguel smiled, the smile turning into a small laugh, his amused eyes looking into yours confused.

"So that's what the looks were about?"

You froze, your cheeks heating even more. All those looks you'd been giving him, all directed at his lower stomach and more, he'd noticed. You fancied the idea disappearing down a hole right now, and placed your hands on your face in embarrassment.

"Hey hey," he said softly, coming to kneel in front of you as his two large hands came to rest on yours to move them away from your face. "It's okay, it's just," he caressed your cheek, "took you long enough muñeca, you could've just asked me."

"I know," you said, your hand sliding over his as you pressed your cheek closer, "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he assured you, "but in the future, whenever you're thinking about something like that, or anything, you have to tell me. Okay ?"

You smile softly, "Okay."

He came over and kissed your lips chastely.

"So," he said, taking your hand in his, "you want to learn how to do this?"

You inhaled, nodding. He came to kiss you again tenderly, coming to sit on the bed and lay down. He pulled you against him as you kissed, his hand coming to rest on your for a second. He stopped the kiss for a moment, tapping his watch gently. You were so happy of finally being able to do this, you couldn't wait anymore.

"Learned anything from the video?" he asked, glancing at you.

You said nothing, just tilted your head slightly to one side as you shrugged on all fours above him.

"We'll see, but be careful with that kind of stuff. A lot of it doesn't really show anything actually pleasant, it's all for show. Alright? Cariño?" he informed, coming to stroke your cheek again as you nodded. "Good."

Then his suit began to depixelate, and your eyes lowered until you finally saw the happy trail again, and what was just below it.

Okay, now there might be a problem you thought, because the dick the girl was sucking in the video, which was hard, just approached the same size as Miguel's... which wasn't hard yet. He was, and will be too big for what you were about to do.

"Everything is alright cariño?" he asked worriedly, "are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," you replied immediately, perhaps a little too eagerly.

A small smile spread across his lips.

"Good. If you're not sure what to do, I can give you small tips as you go along."

You nodded once more, your eyes dropping to his perfect torso. You lowered your face gently, kissing his skin gently, gradually working your way down to his navel.

He breathed softly, and you felt his skin grow grainy under your kisses. Then you finally reached his body hair, your hand resting on the sheets and gently caressing his hip as you placed soft kisses on his happy trail. A sigh of relief escaped from between his lips. The object of all your desires for a week was finally here, close to your touch.

Then, just a few centimetres lower, you came to face his cock. Your eyes locked with Miguel's for a moment as you kissed his groin, then coming to kiss his shaft running your lips along the base of his it.

You heard him inhale as the fingers of your other hand gently wrapped around him, holding him tenderly as you placed a trail of pecks from the base of his dick to his tip. You placed kitten kisses there as you felt him harden and grow between your fingers and against your lips.

This encouraged you, as you no doubt told yourself that you were doing the right thing for his body to react like that.

"Spit will help you, nena," Miguel murmured, surrendering gently to your touch.

You nodded, sticking your tongue out between your teeth to lick his tip, a low grunt echoing in Miguel's chest as you gathered drool on the sides of your cheeks to run down his length and lick him further. Your hand spread the saliva a little more evenly as you kissed your way down to his balls. Then, placing your whole tongue on his base, you worked your way up his entire length.

"This feels so good muñeca," he breathed, one of his hands gently stroking your hair.

You let a little more drool trickle down, your hand spreading it a little more evenly as you pulled the foreskin back to expose the head, kissing the uncovered pink and licking it gently as Miguel sighed and moaned. You made circular movements with your tongue, your eyes resting on Miguel from time to time.

"There's a spot, just under-"

But no sooner had he started his sentence than you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue slide under his tip, just underneath the crown, like you had seen the woman do.

"Yes, there," Miguel breathed shakily, his eyes closing as his head fell back on the pillow, "right there, just like that."

You let your tongue flick back and forth on that spot, beautiful moans rumbling in Miguel's throat. You readjusted his cock in your hand and then gently took his tip into your mouth, letting your tongue slide underneath him.

He inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling in a long sigh of pleasure. Your mouth was so warm and wet and your tongue was incredible: perfect for him.

"You feel so good," he whispered, biting his lip, his half-closed eyes coming to rest on yours.

He was thick, and you were trying your best to make sure your mouth was wide open enough to contain him but also to keep the right pressure around him. So, breathing in gently to loosened your jaw, sank a couple of centimetres deeper around him, then pulled up slightly.

You started at a slow pace, taking your time to get used to all this and remember to breathe properly, but also to savour the moment. You relaxed your lips as you lowered yourself onto him, then pressed them once you got up, letting your tongue stretch out as soon as you came up to caress that sweet spot he'd mentioned.

"Be careful with the teeth, muñeca" he said softly as your teeth surreptitiously grazed his skin.

You widened your mouth a little more, breathing in so that your cheeks hollowed out and pressed against him.

"You're doing so good for me," he murmured, his hand still on your hair, caressing it even more.

His praise encouraged you even more, and you thought maybe it would be good to step it up a level. So you sank down on him a little too hastily, and he bumped your throat very lightly as you immediately pulled away, coughing slightly thanks to your gag reflex. How could the lady in the video make it look so simple ? You felt ridiculous.

"Hey, slow down," smiled Miguel as he straightened up a little to reassure you, "all the way down will take a bit more time, but you're already doing so good for me, arlight ?" He caressed your cheek. "No need to rush it."

You nodded softly, although you could have guessed that you wouldn't be able to take all of him in your mouth, especially with the little experience you had, you could still pleasure him.

You weren't just here to make him come, you were here to make him feel good because you wanted him to feel good. 

So you went back to kissing his tip, letting your tongue coat it again before taking it back into your mouth. You knew you couldn't suck the whole thing straight away, so you took his shaft in your hand, pumping softly. You let a little more saliva spill out as you remembered the movement of the woman's hand in the video.

You started twisting your hand clockwise while sucking on him, your tongue occasionally hardening near his sweet spot and the tip. He was making heavenly moans, his fingers weaving through your hair, his hips starting to move on their own.

"You look gorgeous," he moaned tenderly.

A low moan rose from your throat and vibrated against him, his head sinking into the pillow as his back arched, his fingers becoming a little firmer and gripping your hair.

When your jaw began to tire, you wrapped your second hand around his cock, twisting it counter-clockwise, your mouth concentrating more on the head. Your hands applied more pressure as you pulled back, and since your hands were twisting around him, you started softly twisting your head as well.

His hips dictated a rhythm that you followed, a little faster every instant, his hand on your head guiding you in the rhythm.

"You're amazing," he breathed.

You hollowed your cheeks, his rhythm quickening as his moans multiplied. He was going to come, and you would accept it with longing.

His breath became more and more ragged, and after a powerful moan and a single thrust of his hip, you felt it spill over your tongue. He was out of breath, and realising what he'd just done, he pulled out of your embrace confused:

"I'm so sorry!" he said, referencing your tongue covered in his cum, "It was just so good i forgot to pull out, you don't have to-"

But you pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth until the substance dripped down your throat and you swallowed. The taste was slightly salty, but nothing special.

"Swallow," he finished, a smile stretching his lips, surprised.

He straightened, pulling you to him for a gentle kiss.

"You did so great nena, really, I'm so proud of you. You were amazing... you are amazing."

A smile stretched your lips as he caressed your cheek and you came to kiss him again, delighted to have finally been able to taste your desire.

Bonus:

"So, was the material I sent you helpful?" asked Lyla.

"Very," you admitted, "excellent choice."

"What material ?" asked Miguel, confused.

"The new one for an upcoming suit," replied Lyla.

"I'm not sure we're talking about fabric here," remarked Miguel, slightly suspicious as he left the room and you winked at Lyla.

#mads' requests ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎ #madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎ #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #atsv miguel #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv smut #miguel spiderman

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Birthday present

Tags : smut, virgin female!reader, gojo can be gentle too! (I'm kidding, he's a feral bitch), dude likes to edge himself and he doesn't even know it, praise, a little stretched out until you reach the main course, unprotected sex (do not attempt, use protection), stomach bulge (cuz why not??), I lost my mind halfway through, gojo is in his mid-twenties (reader is the same).

Minors, you know the drill. Get out🚪👈🏼🚶🏻‍♀️

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9 months. 9 whole months passed since you've started dating Satoru and you haven't done the deed yet, fearing the pain and whatever complicated emotions that comes with being a...well, virgin but luckily for you, the very impatient man is willing to be patient, just for you and you only. But just because he's patient doesn't mean he won't push his luck afterall, he's Gojo Satoru. What did you expect? What he wants, he always gets and unluckily for you, he doesn't want you. He needs you.

10 : 38 PM

"Babe can we do it today, Pretty please?,"

Satoru whines, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his head on your stomach, batting his pretty cerulean eyes up at you pleadingly. You look down at him with a neutral expression on your face, shifting on the bed to prop yourself on your elbows to look at him better.

"And what exactly are you talking about?" You ask, brushing stray hairs from his eyes with a small grin. "You know what I'm talking about," he groans, pulling you down and burying his face in your chest which earns him a light gasp out of you. "No bra," he notes happily to himself, subtly taking in your scent.

"Please pretty please with a cherry on top, I swear I'll take it easy and go slow. Nice and easy, yea?," his voice comes out muffled, hands slowly sliding under your shirt and resting on your bare skin to prove his point. You look at him incredulously and swallow thickly," you promise?", not wanting to deny him anymore.

Satoru looks up at you expectantly, his cheeks squishing as he rests his face on your breast, squishing it beneath him too," yea, I promise. I'll be gentle," he coos, hands gently roaming upwards to grope your chest. Kneeding and rolling your unoccupied nipple with his fingers, he smiles when it perks up and your breathe hitch. He sits up, eyeing your every expression down with a satisfied grin as he leans down and licks your bottom lip for access. You comply immediately and part your lips open, earning you a satisfied hum from him as he slowly lolls and twists his tongue with yours, his hands now tugging at your shirt impatiently, pulling it off of you with one final tug.

Throwing your shirt off at a corner somewhere, your skin rises from the sudden chill and you immediately cover your exposed chest, a grunt of disapproval popping out of him as he pries your arms open with ease, all struggle from you being rendered impossible as he admires the view of you squirming under him. Gently groping your plush chest and perked up nipples, he kisses your lips, jaws and chin before making his way down to your neck, leaving a trail of spit behind.

Suckling and licking his way down to your chest, he takes a nipple in his mouth and rolls it around with his tongue, gently biting and tugging at it with his teeth. A smug grin on his face when he hears you moan softly, your hands immediately rushing to his hair and tugging at it as heat pools at the pit of your stomach. "Shh, you're doing so well baby. So, so well," Satoru murmurs, moving on to the neglected side and doing the same, his unoccupied hand drifting downwards and making its way past your shorts, groaning when he notes that you didn't have any underwear on and feels the sticky wetness oozing out of you," such a good girl. You're all nice and wet, just for me," he rasps out, lightly rubbing at your clit in a circular motion.

You gasp out, back arching off the bed slightly as your hand abandons your position on his neck, choosing to grip on the sheets instead." Satoru," you sputter out, a tingling sensation running up your spine while looking up at him with wet eyes. Satoru immediately stops, mumbling apologies as he pulls his hand away and picks you up," I'm sorry, was that too far? Did I hurt you?," he asks worriedly, settling you down on his lap and wiping the few tears that leaked through your eyes, ignoring his raging hard-on which was very obviously poking your inner thighs through his sweat pants. You look at him confusedly, rubbing your eyes," no, no. It's nothing like that," you answer, he mimics your confused look.

"Why are you crying then?"

You flush, splotches of color appearing on your face," i-it just felt really weird and...well, nice." You admit, pursing your lips as you look at the visible relief flooding his eyes almost instantly and a smile tugs at his lips. "I thought I hurt you or something," he sighs, leaning his forehead against yours with a small smug smile on his face," so can we continue where we left off?"

"Ye-"

"Before you answer, I want you to actually think about it right now," he says, effectively cutting you off. " I may be patient but I'm not one of restraint so once we start...I can't guarantee that I'll be able to stop."

You chuckle lightly, resting your hand on the bulge poking at your thigh. Jolts of pleasure runs up through him, causing him to straighten his back as he stares at your hand and back at you speechlessly. "I want to do it, satoru," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him closer until your lips are only centimeters apart.

"I want you," you kiss him, licking his bottom lips like how he licked yours. You were a fast learner, always was- who knew that it applied to this too.

Satoru feels something snap within him, immediately grabbing your waist and resting you snugly on ontop of his cock, grinding your clothed cunt down on it- pulling out simultaneous muffled moans out of the two of you as he hungrily kisses your lips, hands gripping your thighs before pulling away and swiftly turning you around, resting your back on his chest, he props a bunch of pillows behind him and leans down with you ontop of him.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he whispers hoarsely, tugging your shorts off and hurriedly disposing it to the floor. His hands immediately cups your cunt, eyes rolling back as he feels the gushing wetness and the vibrations of your moan coursing through him. Slowly pushing his finger in your tight hole, you grip his arms and rest your head on his shoulder as he pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers inside to find that one spot.

He grins when he feels you clench down on his finger," Aha. You're weak here aren't you?," he whispers in your ear as he slowly adds in a second finger, abusing the gummy spot inside you- his other hand gently rolling your nub, your eyes roll back as small, broken moans spills out of you. Your mouth falls open and he takes the chance to press his swollen lips against yours, gently adding in a third finger to stretch you out properly.

"You're close, aren't you?," he mumbles against your lips, adding a little more pressure on your clit." Don't let me hold you back from cumming, baby," he teases softly, pressing light kisses at the back of your neck. As if on command, your body jerks as you orgasm and clench down incomparably tight, drenching his fingers- Satoru bites down hard on your shoulder, creating a bruising spot as he imagines his fingers inside you being replaced with his cock instead.

Gently getting you off of him, he lays you down on your back and brushes stray hair off your face, admiring the look on it with a grin," you did such a good job for your first time. I'm so proud of you honey," he coos, pulling his own shirt off and throwing it aside, you drool at the sight of his chiseled torso, rubbing your thighs together to create some friction in your throbbing cunt.

"S-satoru," you whine out softly, body still trembling from the aftershock, reaching a hand out to him weakly. He shushes at you; leaning down and kissing you gently, he pulls his sweats down, his bulge poking out prominently from underneath his boxer- palming his clothed bulge, he groans in your lips, sending vibrations down your body and pulling out loud, needy moans from you.

His hip bucks at the sounds, hurriedly pulling away from you and taking in deep, heavy breathes; the usual cerulean blue irises of his being replaced with a blown out black abyss staring back at you. Pulling his boxers down, his cock springs out and you gasp breathlessly at the sight of it. The tip was flushed pink, pre-cum leaking out of it and you catch sight of the thick veins running through it. You swear you saw them pulse, you lick your swollen lips nervously.

He was big. Too big. You were right, you can't do this afterall. It's not gonna fit. You don't even wanna try pushing that in! Were you horny? Hell yes! But that doesn't mean you're gonna run head-first to your death just because of it!

"Satoru, t-thats not gonna fit," you whisper, looking at him with apprehension. He shushes at you, leaning down and kissing your inner thighs, taking in your scent," it will, don't worry. I'll make sure of that," he mumbles, gently biting down and soothing it with kitten licks. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you throbbing and clenching onto nothing for him- licking the cream that oozed out of you, he grunts at the taste of it.

Your hands immediately grasp his hair," satoru, it's not gonna work ou-!" He licks at your slit, shutting you up," I said I'll make it work, didn't I? Don't you worry about it ," he mumbles absent-mindedly, suckling your clit and tongue fucking you, his hands holding on to your hips and holding you in place- the pressure of your thighs clenching onto his head only adding fuel to the fire as he drinks you up ravenously, your protests and moans of it being 'too much' falling on deaf ears. He's thirsty and you're wet, even an idiot would know that he's not stopping until he drinks his fill.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you cum once again, a silent scream ripping out of you. Your vision goes white and your hold on his hair tightens more, thighs crushing his head and essence squirting out of you and onto his tongue as he greedily laps every single drop, Satoru swears that he can die happy right now. Dry-humping his cock at the mattress, whines pours out of his mouth as he feels his own release building up but he stops, shuddering at the feeling of the failed release.

11 : 12 PM

He wanted to cum inside you first. Satoru finally pulls away, gulping in air and realizing that he nearly suffocated himself between your thighs. "That won't be such a bad way to go," he muses to himself while rubbing his pre-cum along his length. An irony in itself, the strongest sorcerer dying between his lover's thighs instead of dying in battle, the former would've been an honor, the latter? An insult.

Brushing the hair sticking on your blissed out face, he kisses your forehead, lining his thick tip across your entrance," I love you," he whispers to an unresponsive you, your body still trembling from the force of the last orgasm.

Slowly and gently, he pushes his thick head in you, grunting at the effort to stop himself from bucking his hips into yours. Broken moans spills out of you, coming down from your high at the painful feeling of being stretched to the limit," s-toru," you mewl out pathetically, hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him down.

"It h-hurts," you sniffle, looking at him with tear-stained eyes. Oh lord, what are you doing to him?! He quickly replaces his hold on your hips with the sheets instead, gripping the sheets so tight that he rips holes on it. Holding on to the last bit of restraint, he pulls out slowly before pushing in inch by inch again. Sobs springing out of you as you start squirming from the uncomfortable pain underneath him," for the love of all that's good, please stop moving. You're making this harder for me, baby," he rasps out, hands resting on your hips again, holding you in place.

Halfway in, he finally bucks his hips in yours and fits himself snugly inside you, he'd deal with the consequences later. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, feeling too filled and stretched out too fast," you promised to go slow! Satoru, you liar!" You wail out, squeezing your eyes shut and scratching his back, an outlet for the pain.

"Shh, I told you didn't I? That I'd make it fit and look, you're taking me so well. You're so nice and warm, made just for me," he coos, licking your tears and forcing your head up to look at the two of you joined together, him being buried inside you from the tip to the hilt would've made a mouth-watering sight before if it wasn't for the pain ripping through your body.

Your nails go deep into his skin but Satoru doesn't care, he loves the pain.

Satoru presses down lightly on your bulging stomach, dazed at how deep he was in you. You clench down on him, your warm gooey hole hugging him so tight that he nearly cums immediately. " I'm gonna start moving," he whispers, earning him incorrigible protests out of you- pulling out a little, he thrusts into you shallowly, voice seemingly stuck in your throat, all you do is hug him tighter.

"You're sucking me in so well," he groans out, slamming his hips into yours, the bed creaks underneath the both of you. Pain soon turns into pleasure as he continues ramming inside you, hitting your gummy spot so well that all you can do is moan his name out.

"S'toru," your tongue lolls out of your mouth, mind going blank as you feel the ecstasy rising in you. "You're drooling down there, baby. I'm glad you like my cock so much," he moans in your ears, fingers tormenting your swollen clit as he thrusts mercilessly in you.

" 'ts too much, satoru!" You whimper, scratching his back, your senses goes on overdrive. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, your body jerks and you clench down- his pace finally stuttering. Whimpering in your ears, he bites onto your collar bone; still fucking you through your high. The coil finally snaps in him too, grunting as he comes in you, pouring his hot seeds inside your womb, rope by rope until your belly starts to swell with the amount. Breathing heavily, he topples ontop of you, crushing you underneath his weight but you don't care, more like you can't care.

12 : 07 AM, 7th December

"Best birthday gift ever," he mumbles, lifting himself up. Looking down at you with a grin, his softened cock starts to harden inside you again.

"Let's do it one more time, yea?"

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Typing this on my phone with one hand cuz my laptops busted and the other is in a cast.

Sorry it took so long 😔

Masterlist

#nuhuhwinniepooh #jjk x reader #i got hit by a bus #gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader smut #gojo x you #satoru x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x y/n smut #jjk x you

[masterjedilenawrites]

In Other Words [Master List]

Hux x reader: Slow burn romance

Summary: A story about finding love in unexpected places. And by unexpected, I mean a certain ginger-haired, First Order General.

Rating & Warnings: T/PG13, references of torture/interrogation, references of childhood abuse, injuries, swearing

Length: 6.5k | 🌤WIP

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there)

Chapter Index:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

#star wars #hux x reader #general hux #armitage hux #first order #assistant!reader #fem!reader #friend!oc #captain phasma #kylo ren #eventual fluff #slow burn #but not too slow because i'm impatient

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / previous

You live your life like nothing happened.

Or at least, you try.

You go to work after the weekend is over, smile at yourself in the mirror repeatedly to make sure nothing seems amiss, fix your hair, your makeup, your clothes until you appear collected- and cool.

It's much easier to shove it all down, to try to block it out, instead of really thinking about it. Dissecting it until it turns your stomach and makes you sick.

They didn't choose you. Get over it.

Still, a piece of your heart latches onto the bouquet. The look on Johnny's face. The way he begged.

Maybe...

No.

You're fine, and you don't need them, and you're unaffected.

You're dead on your feet by the time you get home. The entire day was a slog, slow and heavy, and you spent most of it wading through paperwork and numbers, lines of spreadsheets blurring together in your head until they became a jumbled mess.

You need a glass of wine.

Or a bottle.

It doesn't take anyone much convincing. You manage to wrangle two friends into meeting up at the bar down the street, the one that has half priced bottles on Monday night. It's a match made in heaven, for your sanity and your wallet, and it feels good to let go a little bit. Try to let them go, even.

One bottle turns to two, and you hardly bat an eye. The misery you're doomed to experience because of this is a tomorrow problem.

You're stuck on the sidewalk.

Tab paid, friends gone, and you're still here, back against a brick wall, staring at the street, watching cars and people pass by.

You're frozen in time. Trapped inside this moment, turning yourself over and over in your mind.

Maybe you'll end up alone. Maybe it just won't happen for you. You'll always be a secret, a casual fuck, a nothing to no one.

A nothing to them.

The idea, the thought of being alone for the rest of your life washes a cold chill over your skin.

It's a breezy night, comfortable by all standards, but still, you shiver, trying to maintain your balance in the sloshing sea of your equilibrium, overpowered by too many glasses of Malbec.

You stare at your phone. It feels like you're not in the driver's seat, in this moment, like you're not in your body. You're watching yourself scroll through you contacts, watching yourself open Johnny's, click the icon for a phone call-

and then you're silent when he answers on the first ring, your name cracking from his mouth like a thunderclap. Panicked. Excited.

But you say nothing. There's noise in the background, people out on the patio, on the sidewalk, talking, laughing, carrying on. Spilling out from the mouth of the bar like a flood.

"Can ye hear me?"

"Yeah." you whisper, like it's a secret.

"What're ye doin'?"

"I'm drunk." you blurt, eyeing a group of guys. "Think 'm gonna take someone home." What? What are you saying? Stop talking.

"Where are you?" It's Simon now, keyed up, rough and impatient.

"At a bar."

"It's Monday." You never go out on Monday. You know that, and they know too. You're always in bed by ten, ready to get up at the crack of dawn to head into work.

"It's Monday." You repeat, steel edge of your phone digging in the skin of your palm.

"Where are you?" He demands, again, and you shake your head.

"Dunno-" the denial is interrupted by a hiccup. "At a bar, like I said." What're you doing? You're antagonizing them.

"Love, tell us where ye are, we'll come-" You press the big red button to end the call. Cutting him off, cutting them both off, shutting them out.

And then you know, you can feel it in your bones-

You shouldn't have done that.

#peaches writes #cool girl #ghoap x reader #phone writing #mind the mistakes

[cherryredstars]

Hello cherry

This is the first time I have asked you something, I would like it to be something like Miguel being a teacher with a female student reader. With NSFW, I'm ovulating please

I know you will know how to do it very well

Have a nice day nena

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut with Slight Plot, Student/Teacher Relationship, Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Fingering, Degradation, Praise, Spanking, Squirting

Summary: You needed extra help, right?

Word Count: 2K (Not Edited)

Both of you knew you didn’t need the extra help. 

Miguel had been surprised when he had seen your name in the afterschool tutoring sign up sheet. He didn’t need to open up his gradebook to know you were one of the striving students in his class, getting high Bs to As on his assignments and exams. At first, he thought it was a mistake. That was quickly disproved the more he paid attention to you in class. 

You always sat front and center, pushing your body up against the table so your breasts were on display. Your eyes tracked his every movement, either giving him innocent doe eyes or half-lidded beauties. Your hands are always playing with something, let it be your hair, a pencil, or your lip. God those lips. He was sure you had an oral fixation. How else would you explain the way you bit the end of your pens, fingers, your own lips whenever he talks? You’re naive if you think he misses the fleeting glances you make up and down his figure as he paces around the room. Stupid if you think he misses the extra seconds you spend on his crotch. 

He definitely doesn’t miss the way you strut into his office, clothes skin tight and bordering on inappropriate. His eyes instantly zero in every time you try to tug your clothes down, revealing more of your cleavage or just shy of showing the band of your panties before the fabric rises up again. You let out small huffs, a pout on your glossy lips as if you didn’t do this to yourself. As if you didn’t plan this because you knew you were gonna have him all to yourself for an hour or two. Naughty, naughty girl.

But also oh-so-sweet, especially when your pretty cunt clamps so tightly onto his fingers. As much as he likes you sitting in the front of the class, he might just consider permanently moving your seat to his lap. You’re just so pretty, your back pressed against his front with your legs spread over his own. He almost misses your stuttering words over the sound of your squelching hole as you try to answer the questions he whispers into your ears. You never knew Miguel to be so impatient until now. Not until he gives harsh slaps to your throbbing clit when you get the answer wrong or take too long to respond. Every slap makes your hips jolt in pleasure and if he didn’t know any better, Miguel would have thought you were answering wrong on purpose. 

“Come on, chica. It’s an easy one, you got it right on the past assignment. Don’t be an airhead, now.” 

The words are said softly into your ear, but the condescending smile on his face makes you whimper in embarrassment. A deep flush covers your face and you try to recall the answer. But it’s just too hard. The words get more and more jumbled in your mind the more Miguel keeps pumping his thick fingers into you. His blunt nails scrape your gummy walls perfectly and you can’t escape the urge to throw your head back in pleasure. A pleased moan leaves your plump lips, slightly grinding against his hand. 

The sound almost immediately turns into a sharp gasp when Miguel’s hand comes in contact with your cheek. Your head whips to the side from the force, only to have it yanked forward and pointed towards the review material on his desk. The hand that he used to slap you squishes your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker up and muffle your noises. Miguel leans forward and presses up against your back, his breath tickles your ear and his fingers slow the slightest bit. 

“Pay attention. How am I supposed to help you if you don't cooperate, hm?” Miguel snarls, nipping at your earlobe. 

You try to respond, trying to apologize, but all that comes out is a drawn out whine. Miguel simply chuckles, mumbling ‘stupid slut’ as his hand slides down to your face to your neck. Your moan is more audible this time, and Miguel hisses as you clench around his fingers the same time he applies the tiniest bit of pressure to your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pumps his fingers faster, pressing right below the perfect spot. It’s enough to do you in, hips jerking up as clear liquid gushes out of you. 

Miguel completely ignores it, pretending he doesn’t feel the wetness of his button-up sleeve or the splattering on his slacks. His fingers still work you through your orgasm, your protests falling onto deaf ears. “Go on, read the paragraph. What does it say, chica?”

You can’t even attempt to read it, the words an unfocused mess as your mind tries to come down from your orgasm. All you can do is whine, trying to squirm away from his hold and mumbling out ‘don’t know’ repeatedly. You barely register Miguel’s tsk of disappointment before his fingers disappear from inside you. His hand creeps into your hair, and a pleased sigh escapes you as your body gets the chance to relax. His hand is gentle, massaging your scalp until his hold suddenly tightens.

 “Maybe you need a closer look then, yeah?”

A yelp leaves you as he sharply tugs at your hair, forcing the side of your face to press into the papers and workbooks on his desk. Some of the pages crinkle as he forces you to balance on your legs. You faintly hear the rolling of his chair as it hits the wall, Miguel standing behind you and working at his belt. A shiver runs down your body when you feel his head slide against your folds, hands bracing on the edge of the desk to stop yourself from falling to the floor. 

“How about now? Can you read it?”

You don’t get the time to respond, a loud moan parting from your lips as he pushes into you. It burns slightly from his size, even with all the time he spent loosening your cunt. Your eyes and hands squeeze shut, trying to work through the intrusion. You can feel every inch he slides in, swearing you can feel the throb of a thick vein against your walls. Miguel hisses at your tightness, his hand wrapping around to play with your clit in an effort to relax you. It takes a moment, but your walls give away the slightest bit. It’s just enough for him to bottom out, both of your groaning as his head rubs against that spongy spot inside you. He slowly slides out before snapping his hips forward again, shifting you higher up onto the desk. 

More whines and whimpers leave you as you try to push back into him. But after a few more thrusts, he pulls out so his tip is the only thing in you. His grip on your hips is tight, preventing you from moving. A frustrated noise leaves you, but it's quieted by the slap he lands onto your ass. He massages the red spot, humming to himself. “Let’s make a deal, yeah? If you can answer this last question correctly, I’ll reward you.”

Your eyes sluggishly follow his finger as it comes into view. He grabs one of the worksheets, repositioning you on the desk so you rest on your elbows. He slides the paper in front of you, tapping at the number in front of the problem he wants you to answer. You want to cry, seeing the length of the worded problem. You can barely make out the numbers written down, your luck of even remembering the equation you need to solve it is a big fat zero. But, you really, really want to cum. So, you hesitantly nod in response. 

“Good girl.” Miguel praises, slowly pushing back into you again and continuing his thrusts.

You try to take deep breaths, trying to calm down your mind as you reach for the discarded pencil on his desk. You have to blink a few times, finding it difficult to get the words in focus between your distracted mind and the jolting of your body with each of Miguel’s thrust. Your hand tightens on the pencil so much you think you might break it. Your eyes scan the first few sentences three times, trying to comprehend what it's saying as you read on. Your handwriting is shaky as you try to solve the problem, the pencil sharply jerking upwards with some thrusts. When you try to steady yourself, the tip of the pencil breaks and you cry out. 

Your head falls to the desk, body trembling with your upcoming orgasm, “I-I can’t. Mr. O’Hara I can’t.” 

Your whines are absolutely pathetic, even to your own ears. Miguel leans over your shoulder, observing your shaky work before cooing in your ear. “Yes you can. You’re so close, just focus a bit harder, baby.”

You let a frustrated whine before picking your head up again. You look over your work again, trying to remember where you left off. With a few more stuttery strokes, you draw a wonky circle around your answer before letting the pencil roll away from you. You slide the paper to the slide so Miguel can check your answer, collapsing in the spot it used to be. Your head is turned to the side again, watching Miguel's finger trace over the work. A triumphed whimper leaves you when he hums in satisfaction. 

“There you go, that’s my smart girl. Knew you could do it.” 

A happy sigh leaves you at his praise, burying your head into your arms to hide the dorky smile that overcomes your face. The smile doesn’t last long when Miguel speeds up his thrusts, going harder and faster than he did before. Your head snaps up, moan after moan leaving you as your body begins to shake. When his finger flicks at your clit, your body falls lax as you finish. Miguel isn’t far behind, emptying himself into you. Both of you take a minute to calm down before he slides out with a hiss. 

You take another minute to yourself before slowly standing up. Your legs are still wobbly, but they regain balance after a few minutes. You startle slightly when Miguel’s hand comes into your peripheral, your panties dangling from his fingers. You blush, letting out a quiet thank you before you slide them back on. You help Miguel clean off his desk quietly, glancing at his figure from time to time. When you’re done, you clear your throat to say the last of your thanks before leaving. Before you can go, Miguel calls out to you. 

You turn hesitantly, watching as he slides one of his coats from the coat rack and motioning you forward. You walk hesitantly towards him, letting him move your limbs as he slides the coat over your small form.  “Keep this on until you get back to your dorm. Don’t want anyone to see what’s mine.”

He doesn’t look at you as he says it, keeping his eyes focused on buttoning up the coat. A roaring blush spreads across your face and you nod, whispering a small agreement as you let the warmth of it snuggle against your skin. When his eyes meet yours, they’re soft and warm. His hand grabs a hold of your cheeks again, puckering them up perfectly for the kiss he lays on them. When he pulls away, your mind is still buzzing with delight as he looks at the clock over the door. 

“Office hours are over. Get home safe, yeah? Don’t be late to class tomorrow.” 

He ushers you out of his office shortly after, another fleeting kiss on your lips as the door shuts behind you. You stand there in a daze before a wide smile spreads on your face. You tug Miguel’s coat tighter around you and make your way back to your dorm. 

Hopefully, your grade in performance was an A+.

THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I SCREAMED WRITING THIS!!

#cherry's requests🍒 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o hara #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #cherry's specials!🍒 #marvel smut

[monster-disaster]

[tentacle] Monster in the hospital

tentacle!monster x human!male!Reader Good to know: porn without plot Summary: You are well taken care of in the hospital.

Long shadows stretch away from the cold hue of the lamps filtering through the half-open door. Under the pale illumination of the lights, the room seems even more barren than usual.

"Mr. Y/L/N?" The mention of your name pulls your attention away from the sterile white walls and the dark screen of the small TV in front of you. "Yes?" Your voice is hoarse from being silent for so long. "Everything is alright?" The nurse asks, standing at the door. "Do you need anything?" "No," you reply. "I'm fine. Thank you." "Try to sleep," she says. "You need rest."

You nod without speaking, and she leaves with the soft click of the door as she closes it behind herself. Now, the only light you get is from the streetlamp not far from the window outside. Your eyes linger on the clean glass and the dark sky above Meriad. The traffic around the hospital is muffled and slow. Your room feels too quiet without the soft buzz of the equipment and the quiet conversations coming from the corridor.

You are lying in the bed with pillows plumped under your head. The white sheet is crisp, and the thin blanket hides the ugly, freshly washed hospital gown you wear. A slight grimace pulls on your face at the thought. You don't want to know how many times you flashed your bare butt just today.

It's almost midnight, but you can't sleep. You slept more than enough for the last two days since you got into the hospital because of your migraine. There is something impatient and restless in your muscles as you fidget and adjust your position every few minutes. You want to go for a walk. You want to go outside and get some fresh air to get rid of the scent of chemicals.

The sudden movement under your bed makes you grab onto the edges of the hard mattress. It pulls you out of your thoughts as you look around, surprised at the sight of long tentacles emerging around you. The light pink limbs almost look comical in the too-sterile, too-clean and too-barren environment.

"Hello," you break the silence a bit awkwardly. "Uh-"

You want to sit up, but two tentacles stop you by your shoulders before you can move. They are gentle but firm, keeping you in place.

"Oh," you exhale, relaxing back onto the mattress while remaining fixated on the monster. The pink skin looks soft and smooth under the dim lights, and you can see the muscles working without pause. The tentacles move slowly and lazily as they get closer and closer, slipping under the blanket covering you.

Even though you expect it, you still jump with surprise when they reach your bare legs. Two limbs curl around your ankles, pulling them apart slightly. Your heart flutters in your chest with excited anticipation as you watch the moving bulges under the cover. Another two tentacles glide up on your shins, tickling the hair on your skin and caressing the insides of your thighs. Your cock jerks at the teasing touch, and something tight and warm gathers in your lower belly. Your fingers tighten on the edge of the bed, and your nails dig into the mattress.

The air leaves your lips in a sharp gasp.

The monster's touch is cool and surprisingly slick around the base of your cock as you lay still with your half-hard length between your thighs. The tentacle squeezes you teasingly, making your blood rush down to your lower body to the point you feel dizzy and lightheaded. The tentacle squeezes you teasingly, stroking up on your shaft until your cock is hard and pre-cum drips from the tip. You shudder and sigh at the feeling. The tentacle smears the pearly liquid all over your shaft, making its own stroking motion smoother and easier on your length. Your cock jerks and twitches in its hold, pointing upwards under the thin blanket. The tip of the limp circles around the crown, caressing the sensitive skin there. You can feel the muscles moving and working around your erection while you can do nothing but twitch and jerk in its grasp.

"Fuck," you pant into the quiet room. The dim light filtering through the window glides over your sweat-covered skin. Your lower body moves on its own accord. Your heels dig into the mattress as your hips thrust up, chasing every sensation and pleasure you can get from the monster.

With a trembling hand, you grab the edge of the cover to pull it off your body. A relieved sigh leaves your chest when the cold air runs over your heated skin before a moan escapes your lips at the sight of yourself in the grip of the long, pink tentacles. The hard cords of your legs are tense and still look so fragile compared to the thick limbs. Your eyelids are heavy as you force yourself to keep your eyes open. You stare at the tentacle around your cock, milking you from the base to the wet tip.

"Fuck," you groan again, letting your back arch up from the bed as your chest heaves. Like a raw nerve, you twitch and tense at every touch and firm caress.

"Fuckfuckfuck!" Your voice is breathless and high as you moan. Pleasure strikes through your body when another tentacle appears between your thighs. It slips under your cock, licking over your balls. The touch is slick and sudden. White hot pleasure bursts under your eyelids, making you tingle all over to the point you forget how to breathe.

The tentacles tighten their hold on you to keep you in place before you trash and shake yourself off the bed, but you barely notice it. The monster works on your cock and balls in sync, chasing you to your orgasm with rapid speed. Convulsions seize your thighs, and your abs clench painfully so. You look and sound desperate as you fuck the tentacle around your length. Every nerve and fiber in your body is fixed on the sensations that drive you mad with pleasure and need. The monster dominates you without a sound and plays on you like it would on an instrument.

Your mind goes blank when your orgasm strikes through your nervous system like a jolt of electricity. It makes your muscles tense and takes your breath away for long seconds. Your lungs burn, and maybe even your heart stops beating. Your cock erupts, and rapid bursts of cum shoot all over you and the tentacles. When your orgasm ends, and your body finally goes limp on the bed, you and the monster are soaked in your semen.

You are drained and spent with no thoughts in your head.

You fall asleep within seconds while the tentacles let you go, clean you up, and cover you in the blanket while the night goes on in the sterile walls of the hospital.

- Masterlist Meriad Masterlist Patreon

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster smut #terat0philliac #terato #meriad #tentacle x reader #tentacle boyfriend #tentacle x human #tentacle smut

[earthtooz]

x : AFTERGLOW :*+ﾟ it's all me, just don't go !

in which: rin doesn't realise what he has until it's gone. now that you're gone, he will do anything to get you back.

warnings: 5.2k wc, ANGST TO FLUFF, breakup, toxic relationship towards the beginning, rin is really mean to gn!reader, hopeful ending, rin is devastatingly in love and pathetic, reader and rin are adults + he's a soccer player, other characters make an appearance and are friends with reader, mentions of throwing up, mentions of food, both reader and rin cry, just listen to taylor swift's 'afterglow'.

a/n: FINALLY, THIS FIC THAT I STARTED ALL THE WAY BACK IN APRIL IS DONE. GOODNESS. i have mixed feelings towards this piece, but i cannot withhold it from the world any longer. i'm going to forget i ever wrote this and move on! this literally took three drafts to finish.

you don’t know when your relationship with itoshi rin began to crumble since it isn’t an event that can be pinpointed, not a date that can be marked in your calender, and most certainly not a reminder you can set in your phone. 

your friends keep telling you that you need to think back on it, that although it hurts, it was a necessary step in healing and getting over him. the more you reflect on it, however, your heart would only shatter into more fragments, with each one piercing you with the memories of better times. 

when did his expression turn sour? when did he begin looking at you with such disdain? when did he decide he didn’t need you anymore?

when did rin’s chips of insecurity wedge themselves between you?

the only memory that serves as an answer occurred at 7:00 pm one regular night. if you think hard enough, you can remember how the plush couch cushions sank under your weight, the clicks of the clock that had a second hand minutely too fast, and the sinking feeling of premonition in your gut. 

the latest rin ever comes back is 6:00, and if not, he would have let you known why he wasn’t home.

so where was he? the takeout you bought for dinner is getting cold and your stomach is growing louder and more impatient by the second. you didn’t want to eat without him though since it’s something you did daily; eating together as a way of debriefing and letting go of the stress that the day brought.

after an onslaught of unanswered phone calls from you, at 7:15, rin merely texts a ‘won’t be home for a while. eat without me’, and although rin was naturally curt and straightforward, the text had a depravity of… him, somehow. either way, his message causes a swirl of emotions in your stomach; unpleasant ones that begin to grow a nauseous shade of green.

you put rin’s takeaway in the fridge regardless, sending him a quick text telling him to be safe and that you’ll see him soon. 

he probably got caught up with something. you’re sure it’ll be fine. 

you shouldn’t have ignored that sinking feeling of premonition. shouldn’t have pushed down the unease swirling in your stomach when shutting the door to the refrigerator before stalking over to the kitchen island with slow steps as you prepare to eat in silence. no one to keep you company except your own thoughts and the ghost of rin’s presence.

and when rin does come home almost two hours later, he stills calls your name as usual, you still go to him as usual, he greets you with a tired smile as usual, you hug him as usual, he doesn’t kiss the top of your forehead, though. you ignore it, pushing your thoughts aside because he was home. he finally came back. you’ll wake up tomorrow and this uneasy feeling will sort itself out.

except it doesn’t.  

from that night onwards, rin changes. slowly, but surely, the cracks of change manifest in your relationship and through it all, you choose to cast a blind eye, plastering over it with sightless belief in your love. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the queasy feeling in your gut never stills. it fades at times when your mind is busy with other things, but it inevitably gets drawn back into the whirlpool of concern regarding your lover- or, rather, rin.

you think you’re still in a relationship, but you don’t really know anymore. you haven’t seen him in a while. the only indication of his existence that you get are the stray bowls he leaves on the kitchen counter whenever he’s done eating, the lessening weight of his protein powder containers, and the decrease of various food items from the fridge that you restock here and there.

it feels like you’re living with a ghost.

some nights, when it gets the most lonely, your mind betrays you, completely eliminating any and all trust you had in rin. 

you wonder if there’s another person. another lover that he feels more passionately for. another lover that his heart had gravitated towards, abandoning yours in the process. perhaps that is the explanation behind his absence. 

but no evidence points towards that conclusion. there has been no suspicious deduction of bills from his bank statement that would suggest infidelity, his location is constantly at the sports stadium whenever you check, and there are no traces of a lover on him- not even you. 

it is not totally blasphemous to assume that itoshi rin wouldn’t be engrossed in soccer to the point that he’d spend unhealthy and obsessive hours into honing his abilities, but it feels a little traitorous that he could forget about life outside of the sport. it isn’t just you he’s neglecting. his mother and father have been constantly asking when he’ll come over to spend some time together, his teammates have been asking you about rin’s whereabouts and when he’ll be free and what’s worse is that you never know how to answer every time. 

it’s embarrassing to be seen as a lover that is forgettable enough for rin to dismiss, so you lie and lie and lie, telling everyone that you’ll tell them later, that he’s fine and just busy, and you lie to yourself. you tell yourself that rin will be home soon so you two can talk about it, and then everything will return to normal.

(your reflection looks through your facade, disheartened and worried.)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“why are you late?” 

you jump at the voice that greets you when you step foot in the apartment and the sight before you causes you to wonder just how tired you feel, because rin is in your apartment, where he’s meant to be, for once. not only that, but he’s leaning against the couch, adorned in loungewear and slippers, and the sight is too foreignly domestic for your comprehension. 

coming home to a house with someone there feels nice. 

he’s lost a little bit of muscle and fat, but his frame is still as intimidating; shoulders broad and built, just the faintest indicator into the athletic body he’s developed over the years. his hair is a little longer too. 

“oh, rin, hi.” you mutter, surprise evident in your tone.

“hello.”

“since i got a promotion,” you respond simply. rin makes no move to approach you, no initiative to take your bag and put it on the couch for you. instead, he stays rooted in his position leaning against the couch, arms crossed.

the air around him feels hostile, and suddenly you’re almost afraid to speak. “and does that promotion change your work hours or something?”

(he doesn’t congratulate or celebrate your achievement.)

“i work with flexible hours now but the office is further and the commute is so bothersome.”

rin uncrosses his arms with a thoughtful hum, gaze glued to the floor, mind occupied. you approach him slowly, pulling your bag off your shoulder and setting it in the entrance near the genkan with a thud, the sound sobering to him.

when he looks back up, you don’t want to acknowledge the emptiness in his icy eyes, barren of the usual determination that defined itoshi rin. but if you knew that that day would be the beginning of the end, perhaps you would have done something about it.

when you opened your arms for him, perhaps you would have hugged him a little tighter, a little longer, strained all the stress out of his shoulders.

perhaps you would have protected him a little harder from the cruelties of his own mind; shown him that the world was not out to get him, and that there was a place for people like him in the world (people who can’t see their own value and instead, berate themselves for their waning self-worth because they cannot see the light behind them).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“i’m going to shower,” rin declares once the moment both of you step in the safety of your shared home.

“no, you’re not! not before we talk,” you demand, hurriedly taking off your shoes so you can face him before he slips out of your grasp. the dark-haired turns to look at you with an unamused expression, the way tonight seemed to drag on obviously taking a toll on him.

“you’re gonna stop me from taking a shower, really?”

“yes because what the fuck was going on with you tonight?”

he narrows his eyes into slits, the pure intimidation that rin naturally emanates almost threatening you into submission. however, for the humiliation you’ve had to endure tonight, you won’t budge.

“i don’t understand,” rin says monotonously. you roll your eyes.

“you don’t understand? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know what you’re getting mad over.”

“the fact that you didn’t even try to talk to me- let alone look at me, once this entire night?”

your partner looks away, crossing his arms over his chest. “that’s an exaggeration,” he huffs.

“no it’s not!” you recall the looks of pity sent your way when rin sat beside you unmoving and unresponsive to any conversation you tried to make. “would it have killed to show you some sort of interest?”

“would it kill you to not receive attention for one night?” he retaliates. 

“it’s not about that-”

“really? sure feels like it. i don’t have time to shower you with all my attention, y/n, there are other things i have to do.” 

there are a million things you want to say to rin, a million emotions that you have felt whilst he’s been absent, a million examples of how he’s been leaving you behind and how you’re now fed up of keeping these millions to yourself. yet, not a word leaves you, too stunned by the stranger in front of you to voice it all out. 

rin, however, takes your silence as defeat and turns to leave.

“you’re being dramatic. i’m going to shower before i waste anymore time with this lukewarm conversation.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the night your relationship officially fell apart is one you still remember vividly, because it only happened a few days ago.

in your memory, the night was nearing 9pm, yet rin had still not come home. 

your heart takes you to him because as much as your relationship with him has caused you nothing but pain recently, you know itoshi rin. you know him because you’re soulmates and where he goes, there’s a fragment of your heart that follows. 

the drive to the practice pitch is nothing but heavy. heavy with your anticipation and stress, you feel your chest constrict and tighten, especially when you pull up into the very empty parking lot. 

“rin!” you shout for the fifth time and only then, does the dark-haired look up at you from where he’s doing dribbling drills. he almost trips over the ball from your interruption. 

“wha- oh,” he turns away just before you can catch the roll of his eyes, the snarl of frustration (one that lovers should never bare at each other). “what do you want?”

you pause a few feet away from him, utterly gobsmacked with the attitude your partner was showing you. after driving all this way, the least you’d want is a little concern, but alas.

“it’s time to go,” you stand your ground. “i’m here to pick you up.”

“yeah, right, i’m not going home.”

“that’s ridiculous! are you not tired?”

“no.”

“rin. c’mon, that’s enough, you need to rest.”

“what the fuck do you know about being enough?” he asks.

the silence is deafening and most hurtful. 

you stammer out the only response you can, “wh-what?”

he doesn’t give you anything. unrelenting, he is. rin has always been the embodiment of stubbornness served cold. not finding much productivity in his silence, you continue speaking with a wavering voice. “let’s go home. please, you shouldn’t be working yourself like this-”

“-leave me the fuck alone!” he finally comes undone. “can’t you see that i don’t have time to deal with headaches like you?”

the thread keeps unravelling.

“fucking lukewarm. i can’t deal with this right now, i don’t need you here.”

“fine,” you murmur. rin has his back turned against you and he prepares himself to kick another ball. “i’ll leave then since you don’t need me.”

when rin arrives home that night, he reasons the unease churning in his stomach on the physical exertion of practice as nothing is out of place. the apartment is as kept and tidy as it typically is, the lights are off because you’ve gone to bed, and there is a meal on the kitchen counter sealed by plastic wrap.

he won’t eat it because he’ll want to throw up otherwise, so rin tucks it neatly into the fridge, not thinking twice about the emptiness on the shelves, right where your favourite drinks are normally kept. 

the athlete washes up quickly and efficiently, a good night’s rest sounding too appealing for his battered body that felt as heavy as lead. 

that night, sleep takes rin and lulls him into a temporary sanctuary, protecting him from the reality that he would wake up to. because when morning comes, he will turn and find that you are not beside him like he expects you to be. your side of the bed is untouched, devoid of any warmth or indicator that you were there.

he checks the bathroom- you’re not there. he calls your name in the hallway- you don’t respond. he scans the kitchen, the study, the living room, and finds nothing but loneliness in each room. there’s no text from you indicating that you were elsewhere.

you’ll return, though. rin’s sure of it.

except you don’t, the hours pass by with rin anticipating your return, and his confidence slowly dwindles with each minute. by the time it’s been 24 hours since he last saw you, his patience runs thin. finding your contact, rin presses the ‘call’ button and is surprised that it does not go through, stopping him after only one ring when an automated voice says ‘this caller is unavailable’. 

the dark-haired stares at your contact in contempt, furrowing his eyebrows when all of his following attempts receive the same treatment, but rin continues stubbornly because you couldn’t have blocked him, right?

was it because of what he said? he didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean to blow up on you like that- how is he supposed to say sorry if he can’t even reach you?

checking his private accounts on various social media, he sees that you’ve blocked him there too. running in to the master bedroom and checking the closet, half of your clothes are missing, and the bag you keep on the shelf is missing too. the bathroom lacks some of your products, your laptop and various chargers are gone from your study space, and the heaviness of your absence hits itoshi rin like a train.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you never did come around to collect your stuff. rin finds a little bit of pain in that fact.

he feels like a ghost, haunted by the trinkets of you that remain littered around his apartment. he doesn't have the heart to throw them out, not when they're the closest thing to you he can get.

a few times rin sees you in his dreams. a few times he sees you in his nightmares, looking completely hurt and run-down by his recklessness and neglect, but most mornings he wakes up feeling emptier, no one to turn to on your side on the bed. not anymore. there’s no body to hold when he needs it most, there’s no one to keep him company whilst he eats dinner, there’s no love. not since the day you left.

you, on the other hand, find it odd to live life without a second person in the periphery. you thought rin was the one for you, you never had any thoughts about what life could be without him because you were certain that it would be him that you spent the rest of your years with, so learning to accommodate without him is gnawing you away, the little bug of loneliness festing on your newfound independence. 

you’re seated on the floor of your best friend’s living room when reo texts one day, interrupting your apartment hunt.

reo: Are you still coming to my party?

you scrunch your eyebrows at the text, unknowing of where it was coming from.

y/n: not anymore. what’s up?

reo: Why not :( reo: Please it’d be so fun

y/n: don’t you know that rin and i broke up?

reo: Ok but he’s definitely not coming reo: It’s Rin, he doesn’t have a life so you’re fine. Pls say you’ll come

reo: Plus he’s been all mopey ever since so I don’t think he’s in a party mood

you dutifully ignore the last part of reo’s statement. after a little more coaxing, he finally manages to get you to agree to come, but not without a feeling of apprehension settling in your gut. still, it would be a shame to miss out on an invitation from a friend because of it. 

besides, reo’s bargain of offering to buy your outfit was too tempting to let go. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“practice was rough,” bachira murmurs, flopping on the sides of the soccer field with a sigh. his sweat causes his hair and clothes to cling to his skin, and isagi takes a seat on the bench beside his best friend, tossing the dual-tone haired his water bottle.

wiping the sweat off his forehead, isagi agrees with a hum. “i know. i just want to go home.”

“i don’t know how rin does this, staying overtime and all of that.”

“he’s insane. it only got worse after his breakup and everything.”

bachira frowns, looking over to where the dark-haired in question is standing. “i feel bad for rin-rin, seems like he’s not taking it well at all.”

a beat of silence passes before bachira speaks again. “you know y/n’s coming to reo’s party this weekend?” 

the black-haired wipes his mouth before setting the water bottle down. “really?”

“yeah. reo told me.”

“that’s nice, it’s been a while since we’ve seen y/n so it’d be nice to catch up.”

“i wonder if rin knows.”

“i doubt it,” isagi reassures, “he hardly goes to parties like the one reo’s throwing.”

“maybe that’s why y/n agreed in the first place.”

“probably.”

a cold voice suddenly cuts the two from their conversation “y/n’s going to reo’s party?” 

isagi feels his blood cool over before looking up. there, stands itoshi rin, who has a frazzled, yet equally determined look in his eyes, one that isagi has not seen in a while (not since you left). “what? no! where did you hear that from?” 

bachira laughs nervously, “you’re hearing things, rin-rin!

but they are soccer players, not actors or professional liars. “shut the fuck up, asshats. y/n’s going to reo’s party this weekend?”

the two exchange a look and their silence is the only answer rin needs. 

“hold on, you’re not thinking of going, are you?” isagi asks, accepting defeat and now switching tactics.

“why wouldn’t i? my partne-” he pauses. “y/n is gonna be there.”

“yes but-”

“-you can’t stop me from going, so don’t even think about it.”

without another word, rin is gone, stalking away with a scary determination that was previously dormant. 

“what did we just do?” bachira mumbles. “should we tell y/n?” 

“nah.”

“agreed.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you should have never come to this party.

how stupid and foolish of you, but how utterly cruel of the universe to let you hurt like this, to let the same pain that has walked all over you for the past few months return; this time ramming into you with the ferocity of a bull, knocking the air out of your lungs

“y/n!” comes the dreaded call of your name. you walk a little faster, breaking into an-almost sprint.

“y/n!” 

“for fucks sake- y/n!” this cry of your name is broken, rasped and pathetic, and your chests clenches from how pained it sounds. like a howl from an injured wolf, it is broken enough for you to pity it, luring you into a trap that will inevitably end in chunks being torn from your heart, but you don’t have much left to spare, so you keep running, no matter how badly you want to give in.

except it’s not enough to deter rin, nothing ever be when there’s a goal in sight, especially one so close that he can taste it.

“y/n, please, i need to talk to-”

“-go away, rin!” you cut him off, hugging yourself tighter to shield yourself against the cold and rin’s pleas from piercing you. 

“not until you listen to me!”

fury powers you, igniting you with the courage to turn around and finally face him. you don’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze elsewhere, but he shuts up nevertheless, awestruck by finally being able to see you face-to-face after being so long away from you. all words die on his throat, withering away to nothing as his eyes slightly widen in shock.

you’re just as beautiful as the day you left; perhaps even more so.

rin wonders if your radiancy was birthed by his absence, and if the answer is ‘yes’, he might wither away on the spot.

“it’s always about you isn’t it?” you shout. “always about what you want and never about what others want. you said you wanted me to leave, so i did! what more could i possibly give?” 

he gulps, utterly entranced as his heart makes itself known in his chest, racing wildly and vividly; the first indication that it was alive and hadn’t been replaced by a gaping hole in your absence. he hasn’t felt this human since you left. 

“i didn’t mean for you to actually leave,” rin confesses shakily. 

“well, it didn’t seem like you wanted me to stay either.”

“no, that’s not-” he falters. “it’s… not the same without you.”

you hug yourself tighter. “i don’t believe you, you’re just saying that now that there’s nobody to warm your bed.”

“no, it’s not like that- i don’t like living without you,” the athlete continues, admitting something so heavy with such airiness.

“you can’t just say that after so long. not when you’ve been living without me months before we broke up.”

there are a million and one things that rin wants to say to you, but none of them break through the whirlwind that is his thoughts, rattling around in his brain on overdrive and overwhelming him with the intensity of them all. one thing he knows for sure is that you are the single muse behind all of them, the only thing that is keeping him sane amongst the flurry of disturbances.

then, you shiver from the chilly breeze of the night, and the whirlwind is silenced into oblivion to awaken a dormant instinct of his instead. one that commands him to fulfil a duty that he’s not inclined to do anymore.

quickly, rin takes off his jacket and holds it out to you, as if expecting you to take it. 

he drops it when you don’t, hope dwindling in his stomach.

swallowing weakly, he then asks “would you ever give me a second chance?”

“you’ll hurt me again,” you glance away, the street lamps highlighting the melancholy in your profile as rin observes you closely. his eyes outline the curves of your face, each divet and slope that he used to trace with his hands now out of his reach. “you take and you take, but you never give and i’m so tired of it.”

“don’t say that,” he pleads, voice barely louder than a whisper as the dark-haired takes a heavy step towards you. “you’ll break my heart.”

“i shouldn’t love you anymore, you’re bad for me.”

“then i’ll be good- i’ll become whatever you want me to be-”

“-we won’t work like that.”

“we’ll work as long as i’m yours again, just, let me fix us, i’ll do whatever it takes. i’m not giving up like this.” 

the first tear makes herself known and paths the way for your downfall like a tsunami, washing away whatever you had built up during your time away from itoshi rin; the good and the bad. the hurt and the healing, all undone by a singular, stray tear. in your vision, he becomes nothing but a blur, a kaleidoscope of colours that you once loved.

a kaleidoscope of colours that you still love, much to the chagrin of your broken heart. 

a hand wraps around your wrist, a warm shackle that grounds you to rin like he’s your lifeline. no matter how bad you want to push him away, something in you will always bend to him. 

“don’t cry,” he pleads, voice airy and breathy. “i’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

please don’t cry because of me.

“i don’t want to be with you if it means i need to go through all of that again.” you whisper, slipping out of his grasp like sand and wiping away your own tears, rejecting his callous and prickly touch. 

rin’s world dims as panic seizes his throat. “please don’t say that, you don’t mean it.”

“i do though. you left me first, don’t you know?” 

“-i do.”

“and now i’m not yours to care about anymore-”

“i know, i know,” words are merely spilling out of his mouth without much purpose at this point, because he’ll do anything just to delay you leaving, to push back the possibility of you turning around and never seeing you again. why did he have to break who he loved so much? 

still, he pleads for another chance, desperation shining in his eyes as pure longing fills him. you have always been too good to him, he knows, but like the tumultuous tides and their inability to stray too far from the shore, rin will come back to you with his undying devotion. 

even if he thinks you should find someone better than him, that you should be adored by someone who could love you so much better, he can’t let go. to let you go is to let go the one good thing that came to him in life, 

you exhale shakily. “we’ve loved each other for too long.” 

“what do you mean?” he stutters, eyes widening helplessly. 

“i have loved you too much for too long, rin,” you choke, “there has to be an end to us somewhere in sight- you need to accept that.”

“no,” his look of absolute devastation causes a physical recoil in your stomach. “no- not long enough, it’ll never be enough, fuck- even forever won’t be long enough, i can’t let you go like that.”

he crosses the distance between you in the blink of an eye. you can’t see him clearly under the dim light of the night, but you can feel him, so close and so overwhelming, but so cold as his hands come to grasp yours. his grip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel his determination. 

tears dance along his lashline. 

“please, tell me you’re still mine,” begs the dark-haired. rin’s tears are diamonds, in which they are precious, but they also crumble into a precious waterfall that rolls down his cheeks, tempting you towards his beautiful ruination. 

words continue to tumble out of him, each one sharpened to pierce your defences. “tell me that we’ll be fine, that i’m all you want, please. i’m so fucking sorry for hurting you, but please don’t leave me. 

i’ll fix us, i’ll become everything you need, i’ll be good.”

the dark-haired’s hands find their way to your face, cupping each side of your jaw with a scary gentleness; one that you’d never expect from someone as ragged as itoshi rin. 

“i love you,” he declares, so raw, so full of passion that it makes you sick. the rin you know never lets his heart on his sleeve like this. 

you cave. “how will you fix us?” 

slowly. he’ll rebuild everything that you have given him.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

first, rin takes you out on dates again. calls you beautiful and really means it.

second, rin leaves practice at regular times, and listens when you tell him that he needs to take care of himself. because for you, he will. 

third, rin picks you up from work. his practice ends a little earlier than your job, so he always goes the extra mile to be there for you at the end of the day. even if you tell him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way to do so, he’d rather see you get home safe than only receiving a mere text of confirmation. 

plus, it gives rin more time with you.

fourth, rin sends you regular gifts. from bouquets, to random items that he just knows you’d like, they all get left at your door at the best times. 

fifth, rin lets you set the pace. you wanted things to go slow so that you two didn’t have to force anything back in place. no point recreating something that’s in the past, you reasoned, so might as well try again.

sixth, rin takes his time in welcoming you back into his space. it’s a few months after you two have reconciled, and majority of your items are back where they belong (you poked fun at him for not being able to throw away the stuff you did leave, and he just mumbled something indecipherable, all embarrassed, before moving on). the life has been restored in his apartment, now filled with more remnants of you loitering around his space: your various chargers and laptop, your products, your clothes, they all sit beside his things like that’s where they are meant to be.

and you are back in his arms, because it is where you are meant to be (more for his sake than yours).

rin stirs awake one morning under the gentle light of the morning sun and you’re there beside him, occupying the space that he has left devastatingly empty. mattress still curved to your frame as he never dared infiltrate it, in hopes that you would return.

now that you have, you feel too warm, too familiar, too unreal that he wonders if you’re just another dream of his. 

then, you stir, and press yourself closer against his chest, face to face with the heart that only beats for you.

a stray tear rolls down rin’s face; a salvation for the utter relief he feels, as well as the overwhelming amount of adoration that he stores for you. his ‘i love you’ is sweeter than the chirping of the birds outside, and certainly more meaningful as he wraps more of himself around your sleeping figure, hoping to attach all of him to all of you. 

you’re home. he won’t let you leave again.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #itoshi rin drabble #itoshi rin x gn!reader #I HATE THIS SO MUCH

[luveline]

idk if you’ve done a request like this before but maybe roan (sweetest girl ever) gets moody and says something mean or does something mean to reader and maybe reader gets really sad over it and eddie helps roan apologize or make it better?

thank you you for your request! eddie and roan. fem!reader, 2k

Roan's hair is softer than her father's but twice as unruly. You hum and haw over what to do with it —she wants it out of her face because the weather is so, so hot today, your hands clammy even now, but lately she's complained about hairpin headaches. 

"Ready for brushing?" you ask. 

"No." Roan squirms in your lap. "Can you just put it up, please?" 

You nibble your bottom lip. You don't necessarily need to brush it, she's not going anywhere. She's lovely with or without neat hair, but… 

"I don't want it to get matted," you say, almost to yourself rather than her. 

"I want to go play," Roan whines.

You don't wince at her derision nor her impatience. She and her handsome father are the people you love most in the world, and to be able to do that, you've had to adapt to how children react. They can't control their bad moods with half the expertise of adults (though some of the adults you know can't do it, either). They need wiggle room.

And affection, undoubtedly. 

You stroke her hair back from her face. She jerks away from your touch. 

"Ro, I'm sorry," you say, in an attempt to assuage her unhappiness. Her fuse can be rather short. You'll all be happier if you can snub this flame before she has a meltdown. "I'm just trying to think of how best to do this, that's all. Can you give me a second?" 

Hair up? Clips out of her face? You know she's not in the best mood, and sometimes elaborate hairstyles make her feel better, but you can tell what she wants now is to be by herself with her dolls in the cool breeze of her standing fan. Simple ponytail, you decide. You and Eddie will just have to deal with any knots that happen when they happen–

"You're not good at hair, I should've asked dad," Roan declares, jumping off of your lap. 

You're startled, with barely the wits to say, "Hey, don't be like that, honey, I can do it–" 

"No, you can't do it." She snatches the hairbrush from you and turns the other way. "Dad will do it faster." 

"Hey," Eddie says, as though summoned by her mention. He stands in the doorway to the living room, a familiar yet foreign look on his face as he towel dries his wet hands. "Why are we talking to each other that way?" 

"Because she's slow!" Roan says, agitated, hands in fists at her sides. 

"Hey, no. I don't know why you're feeling unhappy, but being mean isn't going to make it go away. You don't talk to people like that, especially Y/N," Eddie says. His dark, thick brows furrow with frustration. 

Roan visibly gets more upset. 

"You want to go have five minutes?" Eddie asks her.

She throws her hairbrush on the floor and pushes past his legs, her footsteps like pangs of thunder as she stomps up the stairs. "Ugh!" she shouts. 

Eddie frowns at her as she goes but doesn't call anything more. You clasp the back of the couch in unsteady hands, a weird, strangling pressure wrapped around your throat like a hand. Your sides ache at your twisted position. 

Eddie, to his credit, isn't mad. He toes aside the thrown hairbrush with a confused pout. "What the hell just happened?" he asks. 

You're not sure. Roan's not happy because she's overwhelmed by the inescapable heat of summer, her TV volume is stuck slightly too loud at 27, and she didn't like the broccoli Eddie asked her to eat at lunch. Your slow hairstyling was the last straw, evidently. 

It hurts to have her angry at you. Hurts that she thinks you aren't measuring up to her father. 

You rub your eyes. "My fault. Couldn't get the brush through her hair 'n' took too long putting it up." 

Eddie lights up. You used to think it was theatrical, how he performs his affection, but the longer you know him, the clearer it becomes that he's just a dramatic guy. He sidles up to the couch and takes your face into both hands. 

"Not your fault," he says gently. Then, with more gusto, "She's grumpy, I'm sorry she took it out on you."

You try to play up to his bravado and find your own performance falling flat. "Yeah." 

His thumbs draw soft lines on your cheeks. You really like coparenting with him (though it feels a little weird to put it that way, and also very right) but in moments like this, you remember how much you love being his partner. How much you want him to kiss you and think you're pretty and smart and perfect. Eddie kisses the top of your head and gives you a hug over the couch, squeezing the tops of your shoulders, your face pressed to his neck. 

"It's not a big deal," you say. 

"No, it is. She's not having a good day, but I don't want her to be someone who takes it out on other people." He drops his lips to your forehead. "I'll go talk to her in a bit. Try not to take it personally, sweetheart. She knows how much you love her 'n' she knows she can be unreasonable with you like she is with me and Wayne. Blessing and a curse." 

You're reassured by the idea. Roan's showing off with you because she knows you're not going anywhere. She's moody and you'd been the first one to make a mistake with her today.

"I'm good at hair," you say unsurely. 

"You're great. Me and Ro have looked like a pair of Abercrombie models since we met you," he praises. 

"Think she's gonna be mad at me all day?" you ask. 

"Babe, you're mad at her." 

"I'm not," you say. 

"You're supposed to be." He gives your shoulder a rough rub. "I'm gonna go talk to her. Don't be upset, yeah? You're amazing." 

You accept a clumsy forehead kiss. 

Eddie leaves to soothe Roan's mood. You can imagine it now, his hip propped on the door jam, his unimpressed but patient look. You know we can't talk to each other like that, Ro. Even if we're not feeling good, we have to try to be nice. Do you know what's making you grumpy? Can I fix it for you?  

It's easy to guess what he's saying because you've heard it all before. He's a good dad. He might not always feel that way, but he is. 

You're not worried about Roan in any grand sense. She'll be okay. You're scared that what she said is true —you're not as good as Eddie at doing her hair. You're not as good as him at lots of things. 

You feel inferior to Eddie often as a parent. It's a given, considering that he's her primary caregiver, and has been since the day she was born. That's years of bonding and love you can't touch (wouldn't want to touch, really, wouldn't ever want to change how it happened at risk of messing up what you have now). You're not even really her official stepmom yet. 

What if Roan loved you because she was too young to know better? What if you're not good enough to take care of her?

Little footsteps drag down the stairs, followed by louder ones. You sniff and wipe the stressed tears that had been collecting in your eyes away, relieved to see Roan looking a little less enraged in the door. Eddie gives you a startled look at your expression, for which you can only offer a small smile. 

Roan doesn't mind the walk, standing in front of you where you're still sitting on the couch with ease. She glances at your lap where you clutch her hair ties in both hands, rubbing her own together guiltily. 

"Hi," you say hopefully. 

Roan looks at Eddie. You watch him nod from the corner of your eye. 

"I'm really sorry," Roan says. "For being mean." 

"That's okay," you say, holding your hand palm up atop your thigh, just in case. 

"Dad said you'd say that, but…" She eyes up your hand. You push it forward, and when she takes it, you draw an encouraging circle into her skin. "'Cus you love me, you don't get angry, but…" 

"What did you tell me, sweetheart? You can tell her. It's okay," Eddie prompts. 

Roan looks up. Brown eyes wide but soft brows pinched together unsurely, she says, "I didn't mean that you do hair badly. Please don't stop doing my hair, and kissing my cheek in the morning. Um, and playing dress up with me." 

"I'm not gonna stop doing those things," you say softly. Internally, you're relieved. "I love doing those things."

"Roan shouldn't have been mean," Eddie interjects. "Right?" 

"No, but she was having a bad day," you say, giving her hand a little swing. "Yeah? That's okay. I have bad days too, and I say things I wish I didn't." 

Roan looks uneasy. "You're not mad at me?" 

"Do you want me to be?" you tease gently. 

"No," she says through a shy laugh. Her stomach presses to your knee as she steps forward. "I didn't mean it about my hair."

"I know." 

She puts her hands up for you to pull her into your lap. You're more than willing to oblige, tucking her head under your chin. She's small in your lap. 

"I love looking after you," you murmur into her hair. "It's my favourite job. I know I'm not as good as daddy at things, but I didn't get all the training he got." 

"You're just as good as dad," Roan says. 

"You're better," Eddie says. 

You turn your head to grin at him. "Not true, but I'll keep trying, Ro. I'll get it." 

Roan fights to escape your tucking, her head tilted back, the blue glow from the fish tank cooling her face. "I love you now," she says. 

"Aw," Eddie says, though he looks shocked at himself, like it had slipped out unbidden. 

"I love you too," you say. More than you can explain. 

She puts her hand on your collar. "I'm sorry," she says again. 

"She knows, babe," Eddie says, flopping down onto the couch next to you both. 

"I forgive you straight away," you agree, rubbing the short breadth of her back lovingly. "It did make me sad, worrying you didn't think good things about me, but it's okay. I know you were getting annoyed. You couldn't help it." 

Roan's smile is so relieved you can't stop yourself from taking her face into two hands and planting kisses into the heart of her hairline. 

"Love you, silly," you say. 

"Share!" Eddie demands, his weight on your arm. 

Roan giggles as she's painted in kisses. Eventually, when her rosy cheeks have been covered inch to inch by kisses and she's so loved up her eyes are shining, she pushes you both away and holds her hands out. "I need space." 

You and Eddie laugh breathlessly and lean back into the couch, shoulder to shoulder. 

The older she gets, the more things like this are going to happen. She's going to have opinions, and expectations for you and Eddie. She's going to want space —she's going to need it, like she said. You don't mind giving her what she needs even if it is an adjustment, and even if she does aim her outbursts at you when she's overwhelmed. You do wish you could curl a strand of her hair around your finger, or stroke her cheek, but then she puts her hands on your shoulder. She's still blushing. 

"You're the best mommy ever," she says. 

"Did you tell her to say that?" you ask Eddie. 

"No way," Eddie says, dropping his head onto your other shoulder, his hair tickling your neck. "She just knows the truth, babe. I didn't have to tell her anything about it." 

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[broshot]

men who act and seem strong but once you reach the bedroom with them the roles are reversed >>>

nsfw under the cut

♡♡♡

"please," a soft whimper leaves his mouth.

"please what?" you tease.

"please touch me more."

you slide your hands along his inner thighs. he raises his hips, trying to make you touch him where he needs it the most.

"you need to be patient," you whisper as you slowly unbutton his shirt.

"but I need you so bad," he whines.

"I know you do, but patience is the key, yeah?"

he whines again, obviously getting more and more impatient as seconds pass. you're now messing with his belt, probably undoing it way too slow on purpose.

he closes his eyes and tries to ignore the painfully aching bulge in his pants. you brush your palm against it a few times as you slide his belt off, making him squirm.

you're being too slow, he thinks. he kicks his pants off as you undress yourself and starts palming his bulge through his underwear. he's able to relieve some of the frustration from earlier but he needs you to be the one touching him.

"please," he whimpers, "please touch me."

"you know I can't say no to you when you're like this." you say and finally do what he's been aching for this whole time.

you remove his underwear and let his bulge out. it slaps his stomach, making him even more embarrassed.

"how do you think everyone would react if they knew how you act behind closed doors?" you tease.

he bucks his hips upwards again. "please, I'll be a good boy.. I need you to touch me," he whines.

you slowly wrap your fingers around his erection, earning a breathy moan from him. his dick twitches slightly at your touch.

"fuck," he breathes out. his abs tighten and release as he tries to hold his orgasm in.

"I've barely touched you and you're already on the verge of cumming?" you say teasingly.

"what can I say? you're just.. too good," he says.

you start palming him slowly, earning many breathy whimpers and moans from him.

"please, let me cum," he whines. "I'll hold the next one in, I promise, just let me cum, please."

"go on, honey. I couldn't say no to that," you breathe out. who could deny a man like him in such a state?

"thank you, thank you, I'm coming," he moans. he raises his hands to hold the headboard above him as he cums, just because he needs to hold something. and boy, he cums a lot.

the sight in front of you sure is worth it; his stomach and chest is covered in his own cum and he's breathing heavily. his hair is messy and the look on his face is pure gold. he's looking at you with a look that says "you're everything, my everything".

"you're going to be the end of me," he breathes out with a soft chuckle. "god... how do you always manage to get me so messed up? who would've thought.. a man like me," he mumbles.

"a man like you, huh?" you tease. "well, hold on tight, because we aren't done," you say.

he smiles and pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. "I'm all ready for you, always," he says and leans in to leave a trail of wet kisses along your neck.

"this will be a long night.."

gojo satoru, nanami, geto, choso, toji, atsumu, sakusa, oikawa, ushijima, kageyama, and your fav♡ (let me know if you have a character in mind who would fit this)

a/n: this is cringe ngl. i love subby men.

I took a break, sorry for not posting for a while :(

#satoru gojo smut #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #hq smut #atsumu miya smut #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #oikawa tooru smut #geto suguru smut #jjk smut #ushijima smut #haikyuu sakusa #kiyoomi sakusa smut #sakusa smut #nanami kento smut #oikawa smut #atsumu miya x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #haikyuu!! #choso smut #geto smut