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#but rest assured i do have those gifs
annie6002 · 1 year
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Prison Playbook is among the best drama I have watched, but the real question is why close to no one write any fic for it? Like my limited imagination begging to be fed with how hanyang is gonna be in prison again, how maybe the other guys will sniff out that their baby is stuck in prison again and will try to help him, how maybe along the line, yoo jungwoo and yoo hanyang will meet again? Or idk, all the shenanigans, all the dramas that could be cultivated while in prison? I understand there are various canon romance, but my what about jehyuk and junho, hanyang and jungwoo 😭 and it's not even just the ship, the bond of these people as well. so many storylines in my head but my useless self can't write 😭
To all the amazing fic writers out there, may i know why so few of you take notice of this amazing drama? Prison Playbook is close to perfection in my heart, but there is still much more we can do right? i'm desparate 😭
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velvetydream · 2 months
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꒰ :🥀 [ Second chances ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : Lucifer didn't think he would ever have the chance at love again, but then he met you and got to know you after the destruction of the Hotel.
Pairing : Lucifer x Reader
Word count : 2239 Words
Genre : Fluff, Romance
Warnings ➵ Spoilers for EP 8!!
a/n : I love him sm, he deserves the world, a big hug and a smooch to the cheek
Also legit the first part of this barely has any interactions but eh- idk where I was going with this-
Might make this into a series, idk yet.. Also definitely one of my more boring and bad works sadly..
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Coming back to the hotel from an outing in the city, you were met with chaos. Everyone was running around, Razzle and Dazzle were hanging up a banner reading > Welcome Daddy < what was happening? Ducking your head as Sir Pentious darts past you, before making your way over to Charlie.
"Sweetheart, what's happening?" Laying your hand softly on Charlie's shoulder, her hair flies around as she comes to face you. You were one of the first people to join the hotel back then, having grown close to Charlie over that time, she viewed you as a parent figure, while you viewed her like a daughter. "My dad is coming and everything has to be perfect! He has to be assured he can trust me and help me!" That explained a lot, especially why Charlie was so stressed. Pulling her into a hug now, your hand softly gliding over her head, as you mutter how she should not stress too much and that she is doing amazing. Noticing how her body was relaxing against your own, you were glad to have calmed her down at least a little bit.
After helping the others a bit more, it was finally time. Charlie swept her hands on her jacket, before opening the door. A bright choice sounding, as Lucifer pulls his daughter into a tight hug. Before saying hello to Keekee, Razzle and Dazzle. He was.. different than everyone probably though.
Watching Alastor talk to Lucifer now, they for sure could not stand the other one, this would be fun. Charlie now introduced Vaggie to him, which made you smile a little bit when Lucifer took her into his arms. The rest was quickly introduced before Charlie pulled you beside her. "And this is Y/N, Dad! They really helped me a lot already, of course like anyone else here too!" Fumbling around with her words a bit, you softly lay your hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We know what you mean dear, Charlie is an amazing girl, we are really proud of her." Your eyes were on Charlie, before greeting Lucifer correctly.
It was quiet for a second before a crash could be heard. Oh shit.. For a few minutes, the banter between Alastor and Lucifer continued on, making you sigh as you sat down beside Angel. This way going great huh? Vaggie was also at the end of her nerves right now. As they were seemingly coming to an end finally, the doors slammed open and some short blonde lady walked in as if she owned this place. Being introduced to her soon, you decide to tag along with Charlie and the others to show her dad around.
You were simply following the others, listening to Charlie nervously ramble on, only glancing over your shoulder for a second as Husker stopped Alastor, but you decided to not give it another thought.
Arriving at the balcony, you and Vaggie stand back, as Charlie and her dad talk. But too soon they were interrupted as some debris was thrown into the hotel and shook the whole building. Rushing through the portal, you guys are back in the foyer of the hotel, looking around for an answer. Mimzy the woman from before finally explained what was happening, you rolled your eyes, how amazing. Too busy with making sure you saw everyone safe, you weren't seeing the debris falling your way. Before you knew it you were swept off your feet, as Lucifer saved you from being smashed by the debris, setting you down on your feet again softly, as his wings disappear again.
"You see now Charlie what I mean? Those sinners destroy everything! They fall into your home and destroy it, they aren't grateful for anything!" Talking to Charlie now, as Alastor finally decided to step in and fight off those damned loan sharks, before telling the woman to disappear. Watching Charlie and her dad now, as you were standing beside Alastor, a frown visible on your face. She worked so hard for this, why couldn't he believe in her? Though quickly everything explained itself and both of them seemed to finally makeup, a tear slipping from your eye from how beautiful this moment was.
"All right.. I'll get you that meeting but.. once in heaven you're alone I.. can't come with you." Lucifer told Charlie, before disappearing in a red cloud.
That was now a month ago. Right now everyone was getting ready for that damned extermination. Sadly Charlie's conversation with Heaven didn't do anything, on top of that the tension in the whole group grew, with Vaggie being an old exterminator. But that was all over now, as the whole group decided to have one last drink the night before the big battle. You were talking with Husker, as Angel was with Cherri, Alastor and Niffty looking upon everyone and Charlie with Vaggie nowhere to be seen. And of course, Sir Pentious trying to strike up a conversation with Cherri. You hoped everything would go well tomorrow and that no one would die.
The morning arrived, and everyone was gathered outside to protect the hotel, to protect Charlie's dream. Everyone was ready for this.
Almost everything seemed to go down in a wink, the hotel was in shambles, Alastor was missing - assumingly dead, Sir Pentious gave his life for the group and Adam was killed. Now the rebuild of the hotel was in full swing, everyone was helping, even Cherri who wasn't even a resident of the hotel yet. Lucifer also stayed to help his daughter and somehow convinced her to let him have a room too and stay with the group.
"Have you seen Charlie? Some new shipments came." The blonde was approaching you now, his coat and hat off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Raising to your feet from where you were kneeling to work on some nails, you swept some sweat from your forehead before turning to Lucifer. "She and Vaggie went to town real quick for some errands, but she told me where to put them, let me show you." Laying the hammer down on one of the many workbenches, you go accept the shipments, before showing Lucifer the way.
You and him had quite a few conversations over the last few days, with you being a parent figure for Charlie and him being her father, you two talked a lot about how well she is doing. What you didn't notice were the fleeting glances the king of hell threw your way every now and then.
"She told me to just put it here." Opening the door to a little cabinet now on the first floor of the hotel in the foyer. This was the first thing finished, right now the works were on the upper rooms. Putting down the box you were carrying on the shelf, Lucifer followed where you put the other box, before thanking you for helping him out. "Soo.. The hotel is coming together rather nicely huh?" Looking over to you with his red eyes now, as you close the door, a bit confused he was striking up a conversation right now. "Yeah, everyone is doing so amazingly, I'm glad we got so much help.. If we don't look at Niffty punching holes in the new floor trying to catch roaches.." At least some things were apparently not changing and stayed the same.
"Say.. when the hotel is finished would you perhaps.. you know.. maybe.. be interested in a date?" Stopping in your tracks now, you blink a few times. Did you just hear correctly? The Lucifer Morningstar, the king of hell just asked you for a date? Turning your head around now, your cheeks slowly become a crimson-red color. Looking at him, he didn't really look different, his cheeks red, as he was sheepishly playing with his sleeves. "You want to go on a date with me?" Raising his eyes to meet yours, he simply nods. "To be honest with you, you caught my eye the day I first came here but.. then all this happened and we never really got to talk and I was worried you would think I'm weird for asking, so I thought I should maybe wait a bit-" He was rambling on, probably from how nervous he was to ask you out. After his ex-wife left him, he didn't really date anyone after that, so it's been a while since he has ever asked someone for a date. "I would love to. Thank you for asking me." Laying your hand softly over his, giving it a soft reassuring squeeze to tell him not to worry too much. Sadly the moment was cut short, when Angel called for you, having someone questions about about paint.
Lucifer's eyes followed you now, the smile on his face not being able to be hidden now, fist-pumping the air happily over how he finally asked you. Charlie came back that moment and looked a little bit more than worried at her father, but overall no new behavior from him.
The hotel was soon finished, Alastor also came back, making at least Charlie relieved that he was still alive, Husker and Lucifer didn't seem so pleased with that fact, but they would get over it.
So now, it was time for your date with Lucifer. Charlie was thrilled when she heard you would be going on a date with her dad, at first you were rather worried about how she would react, but she was happy that her dad was trying to find love again. Making sure your hair was sitting right and your clothes were wrinkle-free, when a knock sounded at your door. Taking one last breath, you open it and are met with Lucifer. His hat was gone and he was wearing a white suit, similar to what he normally wore but more suitable for a fancy dinner - as fancy as a dinner in hell can be.
"You look amazing! Oh my! Look at you!" Lucifer was throwing compliments at you left and right, before he caught himself again, straightened his jacket, and then extended his arm for you to take. "Thank you, you also look amazing tonight Lucifer." Taking his arm now, he guides you two to the elevators which take you down to the foyer. Charlie was trying subtly to look at you two, but failing miserably. "Charlie is staring at us and almost crying.." Whispering to Lucifer now, he just nods, making sure to throw Vaggie a begging look to take care of Charlie, as you two leave the hotel. He decided to take you to the more finer side of Pentagram City, where rather expensive shops and restaurants were and which were less bloody.
"Here we are! It's the finest one I know around here!" Leading you inside, it was a big place. The restaurant had a fountain in the middle and had many plants all around the wide place. Marble floors, stone walls were adorned with gold elements and gold was seen all throughout the place. This was definitely an expensive place by the looks of it. A waiter leading you to a table no, you were sure was the best one in the whole restaurant. It was by a wide window, having a good look down the city, in the distance you could even see the hotel slightly, especially the big sign reading Hazbin Hotel.
"This place is beautiful but.. it looks rather expensive, are you sure this is okay?" Of course you knew who Lucifer was and he could basically afford anything in this whole city and do anything he wanted, you just wanted to make sure. Assuring you now that you shall not worry about something like that. Ordering food and enjoying the meal together, it was a nice evening. Everything goes by smoothly and you and Lucifer finally get around to know each other better. Sadly the dinner was over too quickly, Lucifer leading you back to the hotel now, while telling you a story from Charlie's childhood, which made you giggle. He truly was a gentleman and had a pure heart, he cared so much about Charlie.
"So.. would you.. repeat this another time? I mean only if you also enjoyed it! I of course did enjoy it! I mean you're amazing and-" Standing in front of your room now, you silence him with a soft kiss to the cheek, before looking at him softly fixing his suit. "I would love to Luci, I enjoyed this evening with you alot." Raising your eyes again to meet his, you can't help but let out a giggle at his expression. Eyes blown wide, mouth open and cheeks blazing red. "Great! Yeah! Woah! Me too! Especially the food, poah that was amazing! And the place was really worth it! Was it to your liking? I really hope so because-" Pulling him down by his suit now, your lips softly meeting his, eyes closed, before seperating again as you look at him. "Sorry.. You were rambling so nervously.. Please don't worry, I mean it when I say loved tonight.. Now sleep well Luci." Planting another kiss to his cheek, you enter your room, closing the door behind yourself.
You can help but smile at his little giggles as he skips down the hallway to his own room now. He was something, but you were looking forward to more dates that would follow this one.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months
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Life Lessons || CL16
Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed
WC: 2.9k
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Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.
He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.
Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.
“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”
“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”
“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”
Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”
“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”
Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.
Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.
He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.
“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”
You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.
“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”
“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”
“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.
“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”
“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”
Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.
He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.
His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.
“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.
“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.
You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”
“A-anatomy?” he stammered.
You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”
His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”
His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.
“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”
“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.
“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”
“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.
“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”
He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”
“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”
“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”
The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.
“You’re a good student,” you praised.
“I have a good teacher.”
You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”
His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”
He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”
“I thought that was a myth.”
“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”
He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.
“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”
Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.
“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.
“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.
You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”
You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”
Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”
Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.
“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.
“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”
This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.
“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”
Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.
“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.
His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.
“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”
He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”
Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.
“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”
“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.
You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”
He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.
“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”
He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.
Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”
You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.
“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”
He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.
“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”
He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”
“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”
He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”
“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”
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lvstrucks · 1 month
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notes 💌
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lando norris x reader
Request: Imagine reader feels like she hasnt spent time with Lando in a couple days so she starts leaving fluffy and funny notes around their apartment for him thank youuuu
It felt like it had been days since you’d last properly spoken to your boyfriend.
Despite you both being in the same city, your shared apartment may as well have been a flatshare with strict agreements to never be in the apartment at the same time. Due to conflicting schedules, it seemed that as soon as Lando arrived home, you were rushing out the door to work. When you pulled into the driveway, Lando would be pulling out, giving you a cheeky beep of the horn and blowing you a kiss as he went. 
By the fifth day that went on like this with no end in sight, you’d had enough. A small stack of colourful sticky notes on the kitchen counter caught your eye and you hunted around for a pen, putting your plan into action. 
Lando arrived home with a sigh. The apartment was dark and quiet for 8pm, but with the hours you were currently working this wasn’t out of the ordinary. He kicked off his sneakers and padded into the kitchen, frowning as his stomach growled. He’d finished all his carefully prepped, diet-abiding meals for the day, but maybe a snack couldn’t hurt? As he flicked on the overhead light a small post it note in his favourite bright yellow colour stuck to the fridge caught his eye. It sat between a few fridge magnets and a strip of photobooth pictures of the two of you, you sitting on Lando’s lap and pulling a silly face as he grinned widely. He smiled softly at the memory, and then even wider as he read the note. 
Hope you had a good day! I got some of those puffed crisps you like, have a few. You’ve earned it :) 
He pulled open the pantry and sure enough, there they were. He tore open the packet, scoffing a few down before heading down the hallway to your bedroom. He changed into sweatpants quietly and curled up beside your sleeping frame before hearing a crinkling, crumpling sound as he lay his head down. Feeling around blindly, his hands came into contact with another small note and he flicked on the bedside lamp to read it. 
Rest up, I love you ♡
He pouted, turning off the light and snuggling into you, head tucked into the back of your neck. 
The next few days continued as before, but Lando found your notes around the house like small glimmers of love. 
Don’t work too hard! was laying on top of his workout gear one morning.
Drive safely please! stuck to the steering wheel of his car.
BEST BF EVRRRR was sitting on top of his shoes when he went to put them on. (He quietly tucked this one into the back of his phone case for later.)
When he looked into the mirror after stepping out the shower, he was met with: There’s that pretty smile!
Wanna spoon?  Stuck on the cutlery drawer. 
Let’s do cardio together tonight… was on the door to his home gym. 
You left the notes and noticed they’d disappeared by the day after, assuming Lando read them, smiled and threw them out. What you didn’t realise was that Lando was collecting them, making a neat pile in the glove compartment of his car. Over the next few days, whenever he felt lonely or needed assurance, he had a whole pile of your feelings to sift through and bask in. 
When you woke up a few days later, you sighed at the cold, empty bed. Opening your eyes you were met with a fluro yellow square covering your eyes. You giggled, pulling the note left on your forehead. 
Morning pretty girl, it said. I took the afternoon off and will pick you up from work. We have a LOT of catching up to do ;) 
tysm for requesting x
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mockerycrow · 11 months
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Hey hey, can I request the 141 boys + König's reaction to a random soilder slapping fem! Reader's ass, preferably platonic! where they see reader as a sister. Thank you your work is *chef's kiss*
141 + König’s Reaction to Fem!Platonic!Reader’s Ass Slapped By Rando
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cod masterlist
I’m having a 400 follower celebration!!
A/N: I feel ehhh about this one, but rest assured that i tried!! also, all characters are aware you can defend yourself. they are just protective.
You were talking with him softly, leaning an arm on the nearby counter with your hips jetted out. You laughed at something he said, your head tilting to the right for a moment before there’s a loud smack! you make a panicked noise and turn around quickly and you’re met with the face with a young man with a smug face, with an expression like he did something that you liked. Your eyebrows furrow and you prepare to give the young man an ass whooping when he swoops in.
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-> John Price
“Keep your bloody hands to yourself, soldier!” Oh, Price is fucking fuming. He doesn’t stand for workplace harassment and unwanted touching for anyone, this is the fucking military—not a place to try to hookup.
Price does not let the man get a word in, even when the man is stuttering out his apologies—that are ordered by Price, by the way—and he drags him out of the kitchen area to file an official report of his behavior.
He subtly threatens the man, ensuring that if this behavior continues, “you will be dealt with. I will promise you on that.”
Price is very aware that you can handle yourself, but he just was not in the mood.
-> Kyle Garrick
He’s seething and Kyle doesn’t hesitate to push the man away from you, shouting, “Have you gone absolutely mad?!”
It does not matter if this man ranks above Kyle, he throws ranks out the window by this point, yelling about how he’s disgusting. “You’re acting like a bloody chav, get ahold of yourself!”
You’re so convinced Kyle is about to punch this guy, but he shows a good amount of self-restraint, spitting another insult through gritted teeth, voice low, “Next time you’re being dodgy, I’m throwing you to the fuckin’ wolves.”
-> John MacTavish
He pushes himself between you and the offender, an unhappy and unamused look prickling at his features. He has a faux-smile, his lips tight and uncomfortable. He laughs and claps a hand down on the man’s shoulder, making the man wince from the force.
“Buddy!” Soap calls him, his tone edging onto unsettling happiness. He’s absolutely furious because no one deserved unwanted touching. Soap sees you as a little sister and he’s always been protective of his little family. the 141
He leans in and whispers something to the man, causing all of the color to drain from the guy’s face and he runs off, causing you to glance at Soap. “What did you tell him?”
Soap just offers you a cheeky smile. “Oh, y’know, If he decides ta’touch anyone like that ever again, I’ll make sure that he physically cannot.”
-> Ghost
Ghost immediately pulls rank, right away. He isn’t the type to do it really, but this is absolute unacceptable behavior. His voice is dripping venom and is rough as sandpaper, nearly snarling with every word—yet keeping a calm composure at the same time.
“Go outside and dig a hole. Don’t stop until it’s as deep as your height.” “W.. What? Sir..—“ “Do not make me repeat myself. Go on.”
He 100% uses PT (physical training) as a punishment on these types of guys, and ordering him to dig a hole is a task laced with humiliation.
His glare screams “I’ll kill you if you touch her again, and I’m not joking”. Ghost is very protective of the ones he cares about, and that includes you,
-> König
Using his size to his advantage, he looms over the man with a deadly glare, the rumors you’ve heard—the terrifying man that belongs on the battlefield? That very man appears in the common kitchen that night.
He’s also the type to pull rank—and this is one of those times no one realizes he’s a Colonel until he mentions it and absolutely does if the guy talks back to him. “What did you just say to me?”
König snarls with every word, berating the man’s behavior, asking him if he would like that done to him or any woman in his life, etc.
You would have to hold this fucker back from actually hurting him, or else you’d end up with König on a two week suspension.
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joelslastofus · 3 months
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[SUMMARY: After roughly taking your virginity unknowingly, Joel does his best to make the second time around more comfortable for you.]
“I’ll make you feel it again and I promise it ain’t gonna hurt this time”
Part one
Smut
(There is a 50 limit on people who I can tag, I didn’t know so many would want to be tagged sorry I didn’t get everyone!)
It was early in the morning when you woke up to Ellie still asleep and Joel nowhere to be found. You figured he was out keeping himself busy close by, and so you decided to make something for everyone to eat using what you had. Your mind never stopped thinking about what you had just done the day before, you wondered how he was going to act with you in front of Ellie.
Cutting up some vegetables that you grew you heard the door open and knew it was him. Joel walked inside to find you by the kitchen area before looking up to his left and seeing Ellie was still asleep.
“Hi” you spoke softly as his eyes found you again. He gave you a nod as he walked towards you while you struggled to think of something else to say.
“So um, I’m making-“
“You still in pain?” He suddenly asked in a rough low voice. Of course you were, not even twenty four hours earlier Joel had just rammed himself in you not knowing you had never been touched. You shook your head before you could think of a word to say to his unexpected question.
“N-not really, maybe a little but I’m fine” you assured him as once again you began to think of how good it ended. It was worth it to be a little sore. Now if it was ever going to happen again, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t help but ask how else you could make yourself feel that wonderful high he made you feel.
“Joel um…can I ask you something?”
“Mhm” he stood across from you.
“Well…um, you know that feeling I told you I felt when you made me-“
“Mhm” he cut you off being careful Ellie wasn’t eavesdropping yet eager to hear your question.
“How can I feel that same feeling again…I mean…I know we probably won’t um do that again but I want to feel it…how can I in another way?” You question was hesitant, you almost felt stupid.
He took a deep breath trying to find a way to not react in that moment, an image of you laying in bed with your hand between your legs making yourself cum now in his head and you didn’t even do it purposely.
“Joel?” Your voice snapping him out of it making him look back at you.
“You’ve never-“
“No. I mean we had health class and people spoke but I never…” you tried to explain when Ellie’s voice caught you both off guard.
“Hey are you making those vegetable fritters again?” Ellie asked with excitement running up beside you as Joel silently walked out the back door.
“Uh, yes. Hey why don’t you finish cutting these for me so I can go collect the rest of the vegetables.” Ellie nodded and took over with the knife in her hand as you walked out.
Joel stood in the back staring off into the woods trying to control himself with the thoughts you just put into his head. He knew last night shouldn’t have happened, especially not the way it did but how the hell was he suppose to ignore this urge for you. His thoughts being interrupted by the sound of the door slamming shut as you walked out.
“Sorry, I just needed to get a few things” you uttered low as he looked over his shoulder at you.
“What the hell are you trynna to do to me?”
“What?” You asked confused as he turned looking behind you making sure Ellie wasn’t following you out. Quickly he stepped closer to you, with a very similar look he had the night before.
“I’m trying my best here to not-“ he cut himself off, his eyes drifting down to your lips.
“To not what?” You asked confused making him look back up, but he didn’t speak.
“Look Joel, if you don’t wanna tell me what I asked-“ he suddenly grabbed your face and kissed you making you stumble back against the wall. Still holding your face in his hands he pulled his lips away, his eyes darkened.
“No I don’t wanna tell you,”
“I wanna show you” his words sending a tingle to the pit of your stomach.
“You wanna feel what you felt last night, darlin’?” His eyebrows furrowed as his hands dropped to your waist holding you close.
“Y-yes”
“I’ll make you feel it again and I promise it ain’t gonna hurt this time”
“Joel…I…I don’t care if it hurts...I just want-“
“Hey, I’m done cutting the vegetables!” Ellie called out from inside making Joel quickly turn away from you thinking she came out. You took a deep breath grabbing the vegetables and walked back inside not saying another word.
That evening the three of you sat at the table together having dinner as you usually did. Ellie raised her brows looking back and fourth between you and Joel as you both didn’t lift your heads up from your plates.
“So uh, I was gonna ask if I can try fishing later?”
“By yourself?” Joel quickly looked up directly at her.
“Uh yeah, I mean its right there. We have most of the area closed off. Why not?”
“I don’t know, Ellie. I doubt you’d be able to catch more than I can anyway” he teased her making you look up.
“Nuh uh, wanna bet?”
Joel knew exactly what he was doing, Ellie out of the cabin leaving the place to just you and him…exactly what he had in mind.
“It’s on” Joel chuckled making you smile, it was rare to see Joel in a light hearted mood.
After dinner you watched as Ellie excitedly packed her stuff to fish with Joel making sure she had all she needed.
“You sure she’s gonna be safe there?” You asked making him look up at you.
“I wouldn’t let her go if I thought she wasn’t” he responded as you stood by the counter.
“Ok” you whispered as they finished up packing before Joel walked her to the lake leaving you alone in the cabin.
Being alone with Joel in doors bought an excitement to you that you never felt before. You knew what this meant with Ellie not there and had an idea. Looking at a tiny dirty mirror that was hung on the wall you began to undress yourself. It was strange, although this man had already taken your virginity, he still had yet to see your naked body.
With only a sweater on you watched out the window until you saw him finally approaching. Quickly throwing the sweater aside you positioned yourself by the counter that he would see the second he walked in. Your heart racing hearing the door knob turn until it finally opened, your naked body catching Joel completely off guard. Clenching his jaw he shut the door behind him as you stood awkwardly not sure what to do with your hands. Joel could tell you were nervous, your innocence arousing him a bit more. His eyes slowly finding the sight of your breasts, he began to make his way towards you without taking his eyes off them. Neither of you said a word but he could see you began to breathe heavier as your chest rose and fell in a fast pace. He stopped before you, slowly looking back up into your eyes.
“Now I’m trying my very best to not sit you up on that counter and take you just like I did last night but you’re making it too damn hard for me to not-”his eyes wandered to your naked body again.
“To not just do what I wanna do without thinking. But I promised you I wasn't gonna hurt you, and I keep my promises, darlin”. He looked back up at you.
“Joel-“ you whispered.
“Mm mm” he shook his head,
“I don’t wanna hear a word…not unless you’re cumming for me. I just want you to lay yourself on my bed” he proceeded to take off his jacket as you looked at where he slept. He watched as you nervously lay back on his pillow as he slowly lay beside you turned towards you. Silently his eyes drifted down to your body as you nervously took a deep breath. His large rough hand gently brushing over your hard nipples, he wondered if any other man had the pleasure in ever seeing them before let alone touching them. Slowly he moved down to your bare thigh as you looked up at him curiously.
“What are you gonna do?”
His eyes found yours as his fingers creeped to your inner thigh. He didn’t respond, gently pulling your thigh towards him, making your legs spread. He instantly felt you leg jerk back a bit, he knew you were nervous. You didn’t even realize you had done it.
“C’mere” he whispered pulling your leg completely against him before feeling his fingers trace your slit delicately.
“I’m gonna make sure you’re ready for me” his lips brushing against your ear sending goosebumps through your body just as you felt his finger on your very clit. Slowly he began to move his finger in a circular motion building up the pleasure little by little. Moaning softly he watched as your body began to squirm with excitement before sliding his finger down and feeling how wet you already were.
“Oh there it is” he whispered just as he slid his large finger in. You softly gasped as he leaned his lips against your face, you could feel his hard on against your thigh. Your fingers digging into the covers beneath you, just like that he was slowly finger fucking you…
So many thoughts running through your mind had all just melted away with what he was doing to you, you hadn’t even noticed just how focused he was on watching you as he continued until he spoke.
“That feel good,baby?” You looked up barely able to speak. The sound of your wet pussy speaking for itself, arousing him more.
“Joel..” you choked out jerking your hips upward, he knew what was about to happen.
“Joel…I think…I think it’s happening again” you rolled your eyes back as he moved his hand faster pressing his lips together. You grabbed onto his shirt, nails digging in, he watched as your back arched and lips opened but no sound came out before you cried out like I never before.
“Oh my god-“ you whimpered, your body still shaking against his as his hand slowly stopped. Your legs moving uncontrollably…you both locked eyes.
“Joel-“
“Shh, just feel it, baby” you panted looking up at him and pulled him in for a passionate kiss.
Joel kissed you before suddenly whispering something you didn’t expect.
“Get on me, baby” he began to undress himself quickly before you could say a word. For some reason your heart sunk at the thought, you didn’t know how to ride a man much less a man of his size.
“Joel, I can’t-“ you whispered looking down at how hard he was.
“C’mere” he pulled your arms landing your hands on his bare shoulders.
“Joel wait, I don’t know how-“
“Look at me” he pulled your leg over him as you struggled to keep your balance holding onto him, you froze feeling his cock begin to enter you.
“Look at me, baby. You don’t have to do a damn thing” he held onto your hips as he slowly pushed upward while pulling you down on him. This angle only made him feel bigger, still sore from the day before the you winced making Joel instantly stop.
“You alright?”
“Yes” you whispered looking down at him. It seemed no matter how aroused you were, it was still bound to hurt, being sore also didn’t help.
“It’s ok just..just do it” he quickly shook his head at your suggestion.
“Don’t tell me that, I told you I wasn’t gonna hurt you” you felt his hands squeeze your hips, you knew he was doing his best to control his urge to thrust.
“Joel” you insisted with a look while leaning on his chest. Without saying a word, with full force he thrusted upward making you loudly gasp. The fullness you felt you were almost afraid to move, he remained still beneath you allowing you to adjust to his size.
“Dammit” he whispered breathlessly seeing the discomfort on your face. His hand gently brushing up your body, caressing your face. Slowly he pulled your body down completely against his, kissing you he attempted to distract you from the pain. You could feel his heart racing against your chest as you felt him very slowly pull out half way before sliding back in. You whimpered against his lips as he moved as gentle as he could. He continued this way until he felt your body relax, moving at a steady pace until you pushed yourself up and began to move on your own. He watched as you balanced yourself on him and began to ride him with ease.
“That’s it baby” His hands down on your thighs as he looked down and watched himself disappear in you. This position felt different but you liked it, he could feel how much you liked it. Closing your eyes you moaned throwing your head back when you felt his hands cup your breasts. He didn’t say much but he didn’t have to, the sound of his breathing and the way he touched you said enough. Moving in a faster pace he groaned appreciating the view of you on top, watching your hips grind sensually. His hands abruptly moved down your body as he unexpectedly took back control. You felt his legs lift up beneath you while holding you in place. His hands grabbing your ass he thrusted upward as fast as he could, watching your expressions change from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Joel-“
“Go ahead, cum for me” he demanded out of breath. Both of your bodies sweaty, your hands sliding up his chest but he held, the pressure you felt was much bigger than you had felt before.
“Oh my God-“ your nails digging into his chest, this time it felt much more intense, you didn’t think you could handle it.
“Joel, I can’t-“
“Yes you can” he panted. You squeezed your eyes shut, he felt you tighten up when ecstasy erupted throughout your body. Moaning almost in desperation, you held onto him barely able to keep yourself balanced. His mouth open watching your breasts bounce to his quick movements, he felt your cum drip down his balls. He watched you in awe, holding you steady on him as you felt complete loss of control.
“Oh yeah..” he whispered just as he felt himself about to explode. He quickly lifted you up and moaned in a way you had never heard before. Still on top of him, you leaned back, watching his hips jerk upward as his warm load spilled out of him.. Another harsh sound escaping his lips, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off his cock. His hand wrapped around it, finishing himself off, he looked down and noticed how you watched. He could barely speak taking a minute to catch his breath.
“You ok?” He whispered making you look up at him.
“Are you?”
Joel chuckled as sweat dripped down the side of his head and nodded.
The two of you were silent as you got dressed but you could feel Joel’s eyes on you. He knew there must’ve been alot running through your mind but he wasn’t a mind reader.
“You alright darlin’?”
“Can I ask you something?” You looked at him curiously.
“Of course”
“Does….does it feel the same way for you…the way it does for me….when you-“ Joel chuckled making you cross your arms.
“Why are you laughing, it’s an honest question”
Joel pulled your arms wrapping them around him, as he wrapped his around your waist.
“It can feel pretty intense…like just now” he responded calmly with a slight smirk.
“It almost made it hard for me to get you up on time” and you knew exactly what could happen if he didn’t. He pulled you in for a kiss as you were still lost in thought.
“You know-“ you gently pushed him back.
“It felt a lot…stronger today..while I was on top of you.”
“I take it you like riding me then, huh,” he whispered as he kissed the side of your face.
“I wanna try different things, Joel” your eyes rolled back feeling his scruff against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses.
“We will” you smiled when the random thought of how much of an ass he used to be with you came to mind.
“Hey….why’d you always give me a hard time at first” your question making him stop as he took a deep breath. He took a step back as he looked down thinking of how to respond.
“I was trying to avoid this”
“Having sex with me?” You almost laughed making him look up, the seriousness in his eyes made you quickly stop.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me and I just didn’t think it was a good thing for you” he rubbed his facial hair as you raised a brow.
“So what’s the difference between then and now?” Joel cleared his throat knowing a moment of weakness from him was what made the difference.
“Seeing you wearing my shirt that night” his words making you blush.
“Do you regret it?” You asked hesitantly.
“Of course not” he responded quicker than you expected.
“I only regret not knowing you were a virgin, for your sake.” You didn’t exactly know how to respond and so you looked down with slight embarrassment.
“Hey” he placed his hand on your waist pulling you in.
“I’m glad it was me” he whispered before kissing you gently and making his way to the door.
“We’ll be back in a few” he left you standing there silently, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant although you promised yourself you wouldn’t think too much into it…
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pyro-chaos · 6 months
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Mike Schmidt x Reader
Pt. 1: And They Were Roommates…
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Summary: Prologue. How it all started.
Or, Mike and you develop the foundation for a relationship.
Tropes: Fluff, angst if you squint,
And they were roommates…
Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5.
A/N: I’m actually super proud of this one haha, feedback is never required but appreciated anyway!!! Thank you!! Enjoy your read
-———-———
Mike knows you, but not well.
You live in a nicer house than his. Abby likes how your TV has more than just the news channels.
Max stopped answering Mike’s calls, and his aunt wasn’t around anymore.
You’ve babysat Abby before, but only briefly. Times that Mike needed to go to a job interview or pick up an extra shift and he couldn't find anyone else. Planned situations.
You were a last resort. He didn’t mean to overbook himself, but he did, and now he’s desperately hoping you won’t turn down a few extra dollars.
You answer Mike’s frantic knocks with wide eyes. You still have your work uniform on, and Mike has to actively suppress his wince.
“I’m so sorry,” he feels Abby squeeze his hand, “I didn’t know who else would be available.”
Mike doesn’t even try to suppress his relieved sigh when you wave him off and usher Abby inside. You - albeit awkwardly - invite him in, but he’s already running late.
You ask when he’ll be back for Abby, but he doesn’t know, so he says, tonight, I’ll call you and speed-walks to his car; tail tucked so far between his legs that he almost feels like crying.
When he returns to your home, he thanks you with a check and assurances that it’s just a one-time thing, and he couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be willing, but you just smile and offer him some dinner leftovers.
Then, a man walks in with a paper plate wrapped in saran wrap, and Mike feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand. You introduce the man as your boyfriend, Mike shakes his hand, but he’s practically choking on the air of judgment surrounding Oliver.
So that’s how you can afford a place like this.
Abby sleeps on the drive home, and Mike thinks about you.
Mike met you at work; maiding for a cleaning company for rich snobs. He…didn’t mind the days he worked with you. The manager often paired the two of you together for large estate-wide projects.
You never complained when he needed to bring Abby to work. If anything, you seemed like you had more fun on days he brought his little sister.
You asked Abby questions about her interests and even shared some of your own. Mike even once caught you packing extra frosted Animal Crackers from the lobby.
Sometimes, Abby would drag Mike into games of three-person hide-and-seek. Most often, he got stuck seeking. You laughed a lot on those days.
You even defended Mike when the manager wrote him up for not controlling his child.
He remembers apologizing with coffee for getting you written up. He also remembers you assuring him that, “the client needs to calm the fuck down. It’s not like we knocked over an Urn.”
He remembers how you made him chuckle.
The manager doesn’t pair the two of you up anymore. Mike would have to ask his co-workers to change shifts with him if he wanted to see you more often, but asking sounds awkward.
You corner him in the office during shift change the night after you babysit Abby. You ask if he wants to go meet for coffee during the break hour, your treat.
He wants to say he’s busy. The words rest on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t know why you want to do him another favor. You're making him feel jumbled and awkward.
But then you mention the food, and I’ll meet you in the lobby if you want to carpool, just slips out of his mouth.
A big part of Mike thinks he offered to drive because he feels guilty for interrupting your evening. He doesn’t want to spend time with you, he only wants to pacify you enough to leave him alone.
The smaller part feels curious -for lack of a better term- why are you being nice? What’s wrong with you?
Mike drags his feet to meet you at the office. He hates that he’s about to give up his break for the Hi! How-are-you’s and the I’m-doing-well’s of small talk. He hates that he’s spending his energy on something so unnecessary. Plus, it’s not like he’s ever been friends with you.
He hopes that he hasn’t given you the idea that he cares more than he does.
The café is nice. It has hanging vines over the counters and windowsills. It smells like espresso and fresh soil. There’s an old-looking bookshelf right by a sunny window. It feels homey.
You buy Mike's food, and he tries to downplay how happy he gets when he has enough leftovers for another meal. The two of you talk. You ask if he has a consistent babysitter, and he dodges the question. You tell him your ‘free nights’ in case he hasn’t found a babysitter by the time he needs one, because, apparently, you have a lot of fun with Abby.
Mike feels the defensiveness creep up into his neck. The urge to bare his teeth and roll his eyes crawls into the forefront of his mind. He can take care of Abby just fine. He’s beginning to think that you think they’re a charity case. They don’t need you.
You must notice Mike tense because you change the subject. You tell him about how vinegar helps when cleaning smoke-stained walls, and the work-drama surrounding your shared boss.
His shoulders unwind, and he even adds a few jokes about bad clients. His input seems to sweeten the interaction like the honey in the tea he’s drinking.
He has fun.
He calls you the next time he needs a babysitter.
A few months go by. You, Abby, and Mike settle into a schedule. He learns that your boyfriend shares a car with you. Mike and Oliver don’t talk much, but when they do, they’re cordial.
Abby’s never complained about Oliver, but Mike can feel the simmering judgment, and wonders if Oliver has ever said anything to you about them.
Mike can’t pay you all the time. In fact, he can’t pay you most of the time, but you don’t seem to care. He wants to ask why.
You have a day job separate from the nights at the cleaning company - just like him - and the generosity you have with your time makes him feel itchy; like he owes you something, but you never bring anything up.
Anyway, he’s stuck with you. Who else would he leave Abby with on weekends and three nights a week?
You’re different today. Your eyes look glossy, and when Mike asks how it went with Abby, you just say it went well.
He doesn’t ask, but he wants to.
Friday night, you call and cancel babysitting Abby.
Your voice sounds small, and he hears you sniff a few times.
He doesn’t think your emotions are his business, but it feels like it’s the right time to ask anyway.
So, Mike asks, “Everything alright?”
You answer without a beat, “Yeah, just caught a bug from work, I’ll just need a day.”
Mike doesn’t know how he feels about the words I’ll just need a day. It feels like you’re justifying yourself. It feels like words a coworker would say to another coworker.
“I’m sorry,” you finish. It’s so soft and genuine that it makes Mike’s breath hitch.
“No,” he blurts, “No need to be sorry. I hope you feel better soon,” and he genuinely does.
Mike can’t afford to skip today's shift. He’s already received too many late notices from his landlord. One more and he’ll be evicted.
He’ll probably have to work through lunch this week if he wants to make ends meet.
He doesn’t know what to do.
So, Mike does the only thing he can think of. Mike carefully instructs Abby to never touch the stove, never to go near the thermostat, don’t answer the door unless she hears their secret knock, don’t answer the phone, and to keep the blinds and curtains closed.
Abby Pinky promises to do all of those things. Mike believes her, but writes a list and tapes it to the fridge just in case she forgets.
Abby asks why she’s not going to your house while Mike prepares a quick breakfast. He tells her you’re sick as he inhales his portion.
“Does she need medicine?” Abby asks.
“I don’t know,” he puts his dishes in the sink, “she said she’d be better by tomorrow.”
“Does she have medicine?”
“Probably, she’s a grown-up.”
“Does she have chicken soup?”
Mike doesn’t know how he’s supposed to know that, but Abby sounds genuinely worried about whether or not you have chicken soup. So, he stops what he’s doing and puts all of his attention on his sister.
“She’s gonna be okay Abby, she’s just not feeling her best. You’ll see her tomorrow.”
His sister looks at the table. Her little eyebrows furrow as she plays with her food. Mike feels… a twist of ugly things in his gut. He doesn’t like that he can’t protect Abby. He doesn’t like that he’s leaving her home alone.
That night, Mike brings her ice cream and lets her stay up past her bedtime.
Tomorrow comes too soon.
Mike tries to keep his nose out of your business, but the packing boxes littering your home stare into his soul. Your car is gone, too.
You welcome Abby, and you smile at Mike, but your eyes seem vacant. You don’t look like you’ve been sick, but your eyes are puffy.
At this point, Mike knows something’s going on.
He wants to give you something, but what could he offer? He’s not sure how close the two of you are. He’s not sure what you want from him.
In reality, paying you would be the best thing he could do for you, but he can't do that. So, he keeps his head down and asks if you need anything.
You get solemn after Mike’s offer; like you have bad news that you've been waiting to spring on him.
Mike clenches his teeth. He's expecting you to tell him you're done; he hasn't paid you, and you're starting to get annoyed.
"Actually, I have a huge favor to ask"
That's not what Mike's expecting, but he can't say no without sounding like an asshole. So he says, "Sure, what's up?"
You lick your lips again, “You can totally say no. It’s kind of a lot, and I know you’re already busy, but Abby goes to school around the same time I go to work, and I’d pay you for gas money” You're fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, "Would you be willing to give me a ride to work this week?"
Mike doesn’t even hesitate, "What time do you need to be picked up?"
You bring Mike a muffin. You nurse a coffee.
You seem quieter in the mornings, but Mike is just quiet. So, interactions only occur when you need to give him directions.
It’s not necessarily awkward, but Mike still feels tense and icky at the beginning.
Picking you up in the afternoons feels better on Mike’s psyche. You talk more, and he knows where the cleaning company is, so he doesn’t have to ask where to go.
Sometimes Mike brings you left-over meals from his day job. Sometimes you bring him and Abby a packed lunch.
Abby’s enrolled in an after school program until 6pm the two nights you don’t have her. Mike has those nights off, but he still picks you up and drops you off before getting his sister.
A few weeks go by.
You settle into a new schedule. You still don’t have a car. Mike never reminds you that you offered gas money.
“Thank you” you unbuckle your seatbelt.
Mike parks the car in your driveway, “It’s no problem”
It’s the least he can do, really. But he doesn’t want to tell you that he feels like he owes you.
You haven’t left yet, and Mike’s starting to feel confused.
You sigh before looking at him, “I might be getting a roommate soon”
The words sound casual, but you’re pursing your lips and fidgeting with your sleeves. Mike doesn’t understand why.
“Sorry, it’s just, I figured you should know.” You lick your lips, “I can’t afford this place without a roommate, and I don’t feel comfortable letting Abby around someone I don’t know”
He’s grateful for that, honestly. But something in his gut still drops. He has no idea what he’s going to do without your help.
“When?” he croaks. He clears his throat, “uh when do you think you’ll have one by?”
He doesn’t have to go get Abby for another half-hour.
You shrug, rubbing a hand on your hairline, “hopefully within the next few weeks.”
He nods, he’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure if there’s anything to say.
Then you gasp so loud that Mike literally feels his heart bang against his lungs. Your eyes go bright and you look into Mike’s eyes with an excitement that makes him feel slightly overwhelmed.
“You wanna move in with me?!”
Mike spends the rest of the half-hour in your kitchen, brainstorming how the three of you can move Abby’s bed with Mike’s tiny car. Without paying for a moving truck.
He has fun.
1K notes · View notes
feirceangel · 25 days
Note
Okay so you’ve written protective/possessive Feyd—what about protective Paul seeing his wife badly hurt or narrowly escaping an attack? I live for the “who did this to you” trope, got me weak at the knees 🥹
I sorta missed the whole wife part, whoops! But I hope you still like it!!
Imagine | Beloved (Paul Atreides)
Word Count: 1,820
Warnings: reader is harassed, I invented an OC to be the antagonist, protective! Paul, hurt/comfort
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The halls of Castle Caladan are cold tonight.
Goosebumps are already forming on your arms as you walk through the dark.
Perhaps going for a late night stroll wasn't the best idea, but you just couldn't sleep tonight.
So you stroll instead, peering out of the windows to observe the rain clouds forming.
Castle Caladan has been your home for ages, even though you are not an Atreides. You've lived alongside House Caladan, having come from one of the lesser houses in an attempt to give you a better standing in society.
You're not angry about it.
In fact, you're grateful to live on this oceanic planet. And, you're happy to be alongside your best friend, Paul Atreides.
There weren't any others your age in Castle Caladan, so naturally you sought each other out early on.
Being friends came easily.
Paul has always been sweet, adventurous, friendly - and you are much the same.
Of course, you both had different teachings and priorities, but you always found each other whenever possible.
There was no greater joy than racing through the castle and playing near the waves alongside the boy with dark hair.
And now you're both older.
Life has intruded upon those times of peaceful play and brought forth more schoolings and politics that the young aren't susceptible to.
Although he has a higher standing in society, Paul always manages to remember you, make time for you. He vowed to never abandon you.
And you believe him.
But the subtle glares that Lady Jessica sends your way are not easy to ignore, nor are the signs that others in the castle are uncomfortable with the situation.
You try not to dwell on those things. Because the only thing that matters is being there for Paul. He deserves to have a friend that isn't a mentor or a parental figure.
As you walk though the sleeping palace, your find your mind troubled. Maybe that's why you can't sleep tonight.
Footsteps silent on the stone floor, you arrive before Paul's chambers. You hadn't realized you were walking here. Unconsciously, you sought him out in your time of uncertainty.
Resting your palm on the door, you close your eyes and sigh. You wouldn't disturb him at this hour- you know how bad it would look.
Before you can continue on your way, a voice calls out from the shadows.
"What are you doing here at this hour?"
It's a male's voice, one that you wish was unfamiliar.
"I didn't realize I couldn't roam as I please, Aric," you reply comply to the guard who walks closer.
His grin is wolffish, "I didn't realize you were stupid enough to come to him after dark."
"I was not going to disturb him."
"Oh no, I imagine he'd be excited to see you at this late hour."
"I don't like what you're insinuating," you start to walk away, hearing him continue after you.
He is right beside you, “I meant no insult, I assure you.”
“Your assurances are as empty as your head,” you retort, not even giving him a glance.
You’ve never liked Aric, so you see no reason to be civil with him. He’s always been an ass to you, finding any reason to make your life a bit more miserable.
“That was uncalled for,” he growls, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away.
You fix him with an unimpressed stare.
“What do you want, Aric? It seems like you’re always following me,” you say calmly as he releases you.
He regains his composure, “I want you.”
You blink at him.
“I’m serious, I want you to stop fawning over Paul and turn to me instead,” his whisper is harsh and grating to your ears. “Be my wife. You’re of age now and I know you have no other offers.”
You can’t help but scoff. Stepping back from him, you cross your arms, “I do not fawn over Paul, and I am certainly not fond of you. I will do is both a favour and pretend you never asked.”
Rage lights up his features, his hand forming a fist at his side.
“I could give you everything you could ask for.”
“And you would take everything from me in the meantime. I know you, Aric. You are not kind,” you hiss, stepping back while he steps forward.
“Kindness gets you nowhere in this life.”
You shake your head, “Your actions in this life determine the outcome. And so far your actions are untoward. Cornering me at this time of night?”
“Paul will never marry you, you know,” he changes tactics.
You roll your eyes, “Admit defeat, Aric. I will never be yours.”
Suddenly, he is right in your face, sneering down at you, “I can take what I want. Like you said, it’s late, no one is here.”
“I will not let you.”
He laughs, grabbing your arm in a bruising grip once again. He wrenches you forward but you twist out of his grip and shove him into the wall.
He groans and recovers quickly, shoving you violently. You hit a corner and collapse on the ground, your arm dripping crimson.
Infuriated, you stand and glare at the smug bastard.
“Leave now,” you command him, using the Voice. You’re not a master at it, by any means, but you’re trained enough to get this brute to back down.
He leaves without a word, and you realize that you should have done that right away.
You grasp your arm and walk back to your chambers. Luckily, the wound isn’t deep and you’re finally able to sleep.
~~~
The next day commences as normal.
That is, until Paul appears next to you as you walk down the beach.
“I was looking for you,” he grins as he approaches.
His smile could brighten the darkest corner of space. His eyes are piercing and perceptive, you fear you could drown in their depths.
You smile back at him, “You found me.”
“I haven’t seen you in a few days, has everything been alright?”
That’s Paul, always so considerate of you and your wellbeing. The reminder of his care brings a softer smile to your face.
“I’m fine, just been tired lately.”
“Why?”
“Sleep’s been evading me,” you chuckle, bending to pick up a stone near your feet. “I’ll catch it eventually.”
A sudden tension fills the air, bringing you upright immediately. You look at Paul and see his gaze fixed on your bandaged arm.
“What happened?” He asks, concern dripping from his words like rain.
You move your arm from his direct view, “Nothing, it was an accident.”
His eyes flicker up to yours.
“You’re lying.”
You curse his Bene Gesserit training which makes it so easy for him to read you.
“I told you it’s nothing.”
“If it was nothing, you would’ve already launched into how it happened,” he points out. “Like that time you scraped your knee when you tripped down the stairs.”
You groan at the reminder, “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again!”
“Tell me what happened,” he reaches out to gently take your arm in his hands.
He examines the clean bandage before beginning to unwrap it. You shake your head but his eyes are pleading.
“Please.”
You sigh, unable to resist. He doesn’t even need to use the Voice on you, he controls you with his words, his eyes, his hands. You would give him everything if he simply asked for it.
He’d do the same for you.
“It was Aric,” you say, as Paul stares at the small cut on your bruised arm. “He got angry that I would never marry him in a million years.”
Paul’s expression goes dark, any mirth he might have had leaving him in an instant.
“Aric asked you to wed him?”
You nod.
“Then he did this?”
“Pushed me into the wall,” you confess. “I had ti use the Voice to get him to leave.”
You watch as Paul tenderly presses his lips to your arm, the contact warm and sweet.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“You can’t be with me all the time, silly.”
He shakes his dark hair, “I promise, he won’t do this to you ever again.”
“How-“
Paul turns in a flurry, stalking back towards the castle. You race after him, suddenly unsure.
You knew you shouldn’t have told him what happened. This isn’t the Paul you know, this is someone else.
“Paul!” You shout as you run after him.
He’s too fast, storming to where Aric stands in the hall. Before Aric even notices his presence, Paul has punched him clear across the face.
Stunned, Aric stumbles back with a curse.
Paul doesn’t give him time to recover, kneeing him in the stomach so that he bends over in pain. You watch as Paul kicks him down to the ground, standing over him with a furious expression.
“I heard what you did last night, Aric.”
Aric groans in response.
Paul continues, “I know you tried to harm my beloved, tried to belittle her. Did you think you wouldn’t be punished?”
“Paul, I think he’s learnt his lesson,” you try to calm him.
“No, no he hasn’t.”
Paul watches as Aric rises to his feet, mouth bloodied.
“I should’ve known that whore would snitch.”
You wince, not at the intended insult, but at the fury blazing in Paul’s eyes. This isn’t going to end well.
“Stop talking,” Paul uses the Voice, before punching him once again.
“Get on your knees.”
You watch as Aric drops to the floor.
“Beg for her forgiveness and I’ll let you walk away,” Paul says casually. “If you don’t, I think you know what’ll happen.”
Watching with a flicker of amusement, you incline your head, “Go on.”
Aric grits his teeth, “I’m sorry.”
“That wasn’t good enough,” Paul seethes, “Do it better!”
Aric slams his head on the floor, “Please, please, don’t let him kill me. I won’t ever speak to you again!”
“I know you won’t,” you nod at Paul. “I think all is well now.”
“Get up Aric,” Paul commands. “I don’t want to see your face again, you hear me?”
Aric nods and retreats with a burning face.
You turn to Paul, crossing your arms, “Beloved, huh?”
He rubs the back of his neck, averting his gaze, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Paul, hearing you call me that fills my heart to the brim. Your my beloved as well, you know.”
Paul bridges the space between you, clasping the back of your head and pressing his forehead against yours.
“I don’t think I could ever be without you. Even the thought of someone trying to take you from me, turn you against me…”
“Don’t worry, Paul,” you ghost your lips across his. “That will never happen, not as long as I have breath in my lungs.”
He wraps his arms around you, “I’ll cherish you always, protect you always.”
“I know.”
[A/n - It’s my first time writing Paul so I hope I did ok!]
919 notes · View notes
froggibus · 7 months
Text
Pankration - Wriothesley
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Pairing: Wriothesley x gn! Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort
Word Count: 900
Summary: Wriothesley is not impressed after you get hurt fighting in the Pankration Ring
CW: injury, reader gets stabbed, fighting, pre established relationship, soft! Wriothesley, mostly just fluffy hurt/comfort, probably some spoilers for 4.1
hello it is 230am and I just did the 4.1 quests for like ~4hrs and now I have major brain rot for this man. something about him just makes my little frog brain go feral. i haven’t finished the quest yet so apologies if something isn’t correct or if I misspelled something also not taking reqs rn but if yall have some ideas for this man i think i could take them
————
The familiar sound of heavy boot steps echoes down the halls, reverberating into the infirmary. Sigewinne gives you a wide eyed look but the panic fails to register, drowned out by the pain.
You writhe on the bed, forcing yourself into a sitting position. Sigewinne stands at your side, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.
As soon as Wriothesley enters the room, you can see he’s disgruntled. Your boyfriend says nothing as he locks eyes with you, trodding towards the end of the bed.
“What happened?”
Sigewinne tries to pipe up first. “Y/n got injured fighting in the Pankration Ring.”
Wriothesley’s features soften for a moment as he looks at the Melusine. “Sigewinne, could you leave us for a moment?”
She bows her head and scurries out of the room, as if sensing the anger radiating off of him. You clench your jaw and try to keep your eyes on random objects in the room, avoiding his gaze.
“Y/n.”
You don’t look at him, staring at an empty crate in the corner of the room.
“Y/n,” his tone is harsh.
You take a deep breath and allow yourself to make eye contact. Dark blue eyes look at you, partially in concern and partially in frustration. You shrink beneath his gaze.
“What were you thinking?” He sighs in exasperation, “the ring is for fighters. It’s for people who need a little extra stimulation in their lives—it’s not for people like you.”
You nod along with his words, shoulders slumping. Your stomach still aches from where you were grazed earlier in the day, all of your muscles serving as a sore reminder to your bitter loss.
You had just wanted to try it, just one time. You were put against another amateur fighter and you thought the fight would be easy enough. You were on the verge of winning, too. Another minute or so and the fight would have been yours.
And then your opponent slashed at you with a piece of scrap metal they’d welded to a ring and your chances of winning dropped to 0.
“I would have won,” you mumble bitterly. “I would have won if he hadn’t cheated.”
Wri’s eyes widen. “Cheated how?”
From the way his eyes darken, you almost regret mentioning it. “No weapons, no serious injuries, no killing. Those are the rules.”
“Yes.” He agrees.
You lift up the hem of your shirt and reveal the gauze around your waist. “He—he brought some sort of shank into the ring, and just as I was about to win…”
You don’t need to finish speaking for him to get the picture. Wriothesley sucks in a breath, shutting his eyes to gain his composure. He looks almost scary right now, his blue eyes almost black.
His tone is gentler now. “Do you remember who it was?”
You shake your head, “no, but I’m sure the promoter does.”
He considers this for a moment before excusing himself out of the room. You let yourself slump down into the bed, the pain growing worse as the medication Sigewinne gave you wears off. A few tears threaten to spill and your poor attempts to hold them back do nothing.
Wriothesley returns a few minutes later, a somber look on his face. “He’ll be dealt with,” he assures you, and leaves it at that.
You nod, worried that if you try to speak, the tears will come pouring out. You bite your lip to keep them back.
Wri settles on the edge of the bed, resting a hand on your shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“I-I—” You don’t manage to say anything before the tears burst out.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap, holding you against his chest. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs, petting your head, “I’m so sorry.”
He keeps a secure grip on you, being extra careful not to apply too much pressure to where you were grazed. He rocks you in his arms in an attempt to soothe you, calming you down from your sudden outburst.
He keeps you in his lap even when Sigewinne comes back into the room. The nurse holds out a small white container for you to take.
“These will help with the pain, but you need to see me every day so I can change your bandages.”
You swallow and go to speak, but Wriothesley does it for you. “Thank you, Sigewinne. I’ll be taking y/n back with me now.”
The Melusine grants you a kind smile. “Feel better now.”
You swing your feet over the side of the bed and brace yourself to stand, but Wri has other plans for you. He scoops you up bridal style into his arms as if you weigh nothing.
“You—you don’t need to carry me.”
He scoffs, “and let you walk right now?”
You sigh. He has a point.
It’s not a long walk back to his office, but between the exhaustion of the day and the soothing feeling of his arms around you, you can’t help but drift off.
Wriothesley looks down at your sleeping form and smiles. He knew you wouldn’t be able to resist falling asleep if he carried you—he’s just glad that you didn’t notice it took twice as long to get back to his office as it normally does.
He lays you down in his bed and kisses your forehead. “Rest up, baby.”
1K notes · View notes
thankyouivy · 5 months
Note
Hiii! I am reading allllll your blurbs and ffs and god I adore your writing!!!!!
Could you write about Spencer Reid and reader (no sub! Or dom! dynamic If it’s ok) in their early stages of their relationship (at this point they’ve already had sex and he found out he’s totally obsessed with eating her out), and pleads for her to sit on his face but she doesn’t wanna do it at first cause she’s a bit worried she might hurt him? But he begs her so much he convinces her and well… the rest I’ll leave it to you! ;)
If it’s alright with you of course💘💓💕💖💗
i got you babycakes!!!
warnings: oral sex [f rec], face sitting, begging, hair pulling, cumming untouched, this is just pure smut.
———
Need - Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
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“Please, sugar,” Spencer whispers into your ear.
He’s been asking you the same thing for the past few weeks, a fantasy of his that just won’t go away; he wants you to sit on his face.
Spencer is very into oral, specifically, eating you out for as long as you’ll let him. When you asked him about this, he explained thats it’s something called an oral fixation, he literally can’t get enough of it, which would add up, because you can count how many times the two of you have had sex without him giving you head on one hand.
(Evidently, all of those times had just been when you were too tired to go for an entire hour and just needed him inside you immediately, to which he had given you a little pout and then fulfilled your request.)
Whatever his reasoning is, eating you out gets both you and him off, and he wants more.
“Spencer, im just not sure about it, what if I hurt you?” You tell him. You’re straddling his hips while he’s laid out on his couch, you in a loose shirt and panties, and him in his work clothes, minus the tie.
“It’s completely safe if done properly, I did my research.” He reassures you, planting a kiss on your lips as he runs his hand up your back under your shirt.
“Research, huh?” You giggle at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “mhmm,” he hums and smiles into another kiss.
As you pull apart, he whispers, “please baby, I want to make you feel so good… wanna taste you,” his voice is breathy and his pupils are blown wide with lust.
You whimper and grind down slightly in his lap, desperate for a little bit of friction as his words shoot straight to your core. He groans at your ministrations and you can feel him getting hard beneath you through your panties. “I want you to take what you need from me… grind that pretty little pussy on my tongue until you cum in my mouth…”
You moan at his words, bite your lip, and nod your head frantically. Who knew Spencer could be so persuasive?
Ecstatic that he finally got a yes out of you, Spencer lifts you off his lap momentarily and helps you pull your panties down and off your legs, biting his lip when he sees you’re soaked.
You start unbuttoning his shirt but only get to about half before he gets to impatient and pulls your own shirt over your head, exposing your bare chest. He bites his lip and places a hot, open-mouthed kiss on your lips, and you can feel him, rock hard through his suit pants.
He flops back down onto the couch, pulling you with him, as he shuffles down a bit more, giving room for your knees to sit on either side of his head.
Slowly, you crawl up his body, until you’re hovering above his face. His hair is messy and splayed out across the leather of his couch, his shirt is half off one shoulder, and he is visibly salivating as he stares directly at your core.
Noticing you still look a little unsure, he gives you a little smile. “if I need you to get off, which is extremely unlikely, I will tap your hip twice, alright, sugar?” He asks, and you nod. “You’re in control here, if you want to stop, we will stop.” He assures you, and you can’t help but blush. Could he get any sweeter?
Feeling more confident in the situation and a little less nervous, you slowly lower your hips onto his face, putting as little weight onto him as possible.
Immediately he licks into you, grabbing your hips and guiding them further onto him. You let out a gasp and your hips stutter away from the pleasure momentarily before he pulls you right back into his mouth.
His tongue runs through your folds, lapping up your wetness, and you moan loudly. His tongue flicks over your hardened clit, humming in delight when he feels you become wetter. You whine, letting more weight settle onto him and grinding into the teasing, hands searching for something to grab onto, eventually grabbing his hair with one and the armrest of the couch with the other.
You were reduced to soft moans, little uh’s and ah’s leave your mouth as your hips stutter and your eyes roll back into your skull.
He begins licking into your opening while his nose ruts against your clit and you throw your head back and shut your eyes tightly, moaning so loud the neighbours can probably hear everything that’s going on, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
“F- uck! oh my god, Spencer-” You cry out, and that just spurs him on. His own hips are twitching, arching off the couch as he eats you out.
Heat is coiling in your stomach, Spencers name is the only thing reverberating in your head. Why were you ever against this idea again?
“Oh- Ah- god Spencer- you’re gonna make me- holy- sh- it!” You cry
Spencer moans against you as you chant his name, frantically humping his face as he sucks on your clit.
“FUCK! I’m cumming!” You scream as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You yank Spencer’s hair and your hips spasm on his face as Spencer lets out his own whimpers and cries. His hips thrust upwards as his own orgasm reaches him and his eyes roll back into his head.
Your back is arched and you’re leaning over him as you catch your breath. For a second you black out and completely forget you’re sitting on his face, but once you remember you quickly lift your hips up and look down at him with a worried expression.
Spencer looks completely blissed out. He gently rubs his large hands up and down your sides as you breathe heavily, and licks your slick off his lips. He grins at you, lust still evident in his eyes.
“We are so doing that again.”
More of my stuff can be found here.
~Ivy 🪴
1K notes · View notes
meowzfordayz · 3 months
Text
revealing outfit prank — hashira men
Author’s Note: borderline 18+NSFW, but ~mostly just suggestive. 😉
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revealing outfit prank — hashira men
Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Iguro Obanai x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader, Uzui Tengen x Reader
Word Count: ~2,000
CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content
Suggestion Fulfilled: You know those girlfriend pranks on YouTube where the girl wears a sexy/revealing outfit to out in? Can I have HCs of our Hashira with a S/O who tries to walk out in such an outfit? Of course, they respect her choice in wearing whatever she wants, but that outfit is too tempting...
~faqs~
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“Hey babe, guess what I’m wearing!”
“Clothes…” 
—I mean, he’s not wrong 🙃
You huff, “Guess again.”
Gyomei pauses, wracking his brain for whatever else you could have on
“... not, clothes?” 🤨
“Well I’m not going out to dinner naked!”
“A cardboard box?” 😅
You can see his brow furrowing
He’s trying his best! 🥺
“So remember that slip dress I was describing for you a while ago?” 😏
His face warms as he recalls how you’d painted quite the picture of dainty ribbon details, an open back, and a satin hem that would barely brush past your thighs
He clears his throat, voice lower than before, “I remember that I encouraged you to buy it.”
He freezes, eyes widening, gaze focusing in the direction of your soft breaths, “You’re wearing it?!!!”
You giggle, he gulps
You can hear his inward groan 😩
“Isn’t it exciting?!” you squeal, stepping toward him, playful palms splaying across his chest as you grin up at his restrained expression, “I feel so pretty!” 😌
“You are so pretty,” he nearly growls, large hands settling promptly on your hips, “Maybe we shouldn’t go out after all.”
“Oh?” 👀
He chuckles as his fingers caress the silky, smooth fabric hugging your body, sensing the heat emanating from your bare, warm skin, eager to feel the curve and seduction of your spine, your shoulder blades, the tenderness of your nape
“I beg your pardon,” he rasps, an unfamiliar darkness in his tone as his fingers move upward to tug at your carefully tied spaghetti straps, tiny bows squished beneath the intensity of his touch, “I’m an adult, you know. I can have dessert for dinner.”
😳🥵🫠
“Gyomeeeiii!”
“My love?” ☺️
“I CAN’T POST THIS!” 😭😭😭
“And why not? Is my rizz too much for YouTube?”
“YES.” 😐
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“You’re going out in that?” 🧐
You glare back, arms crossing over your chest
A not so subtle attempt to emphasize your tits 😌
Obanai not so subtly glances downward
“I repeat, in that?” 
“The hell is wrong with what I’m wearing?” you scowl haughtily, “I thought you’d like it!” 😞
Blinking in disbelief, Obanai rolls his eyes, amusement softening his judgmental expression 🙄
“I’m not a fucking idiot,” he grumbles, “Of course I love it,” glare returning as he points an accusing finger at you, “But the last time you went out in something like that you ended up stealing all of my layers because you got cold!”
“Well then wear more layers!” you quip cheekily
“That’s my line!” 😐
*sigh*
“Do you want me to change?” 😕
“Absolutely not!” he snaps, ears reddening even as he makes a disgruntled gesture, “But, please, grab a coat.”
“Are you fed up with me?” 🤗
You inch closer to him
His breath hitches
“No.”
“Are you suuure?”
You can hear his heartbeat now, can see the restraint in his hands as he keeps them firmly by his sides
“If we don’t leave soon, then I’ll show you how not fed up with you I am.” 🙃
You grin easily, lips grazing his earlobe as you murmur
“Obanai, I don’t think that was nearly as threatening as you hoped it was.”
He inhales sharply, stepping away from your sweet, sultry scent, feigning sullenness when he mutters
“Your tits are staring at me.” 😃
You laugh, bouncing on the balls of your feet just enough for them to jiggle slightly
“Or are you staring at my tits?” 😉
He audibly groans, head tilting backward as he averts his gaze
“I hate this.” 😒
Rest assured, you never make it to your reservation 🤫
The video never makes it to YouTube either
PornHub, however…
Jk, jk
And Obanai does not hate this 😏
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“You are breathtaking!” Kyojuro declares, beaming with pride as you twirl for him
He’s doing his best to ignore the fact that he can see your lacey panties when you spin
“Thank you!” you smile, striking a pose for him, “I feel so amazing in this dress.”
“You are amazing in any dress!” 😁
He’s earnest with the perfect dash of seriousness — like he needs to know that you know you’re beautiful
A gentleman as always 🥺
You hesitate, feeling almost guilty as you ask slowly
“Am I only amazing?” 🤭
You hope you’re coming off coy and alluring 😅
For all of his awkwardness, Kyojuro is nothing if not straightforward
“You are also sexy! Most definitely sexy!” 😍
Your expression cracks, your giggling filling the hallway as endeared laughter accompanies you
“How sexy?” you wink, an exaggerated, playful flirtation
Fortunately, Kyojuro loves improv 😏
—Yes, and!
“The sexiest woman I have known, I know, and I will know.”
There he goes again
Earnest, serious, and almost unbearingly sweet 😭💘
“Kyo,” you persist, “I’m trying to seduce you.”
He grins at that, eyes narrowing so quickly you nearly miss the tantalizing glint that flashes through them
“Oh I am aware, sweetheart,” he purrs, gesturing with his index finger for you to twirl again
You do, oblivious to the way his jaw clenches, gaze thickens, your pretty, dainty panties on display for him once more
“Look at me,” he commands softly, relishing the dazed, dizzy, glowing color of your face, “Look at me, and tell me whether you have succeeded.”
You look
It’s impossible to miss his erection, straining against his pants, bulge teasing and beckoning you to come closer
You post the video, minus a sizeable chunk 😶
“So people are allowed to thirst over you, but not me?” ☹️
You snort as Kyojuro pouts, patting his arm consolingly, “You can’t really see anything when I’m spinning, but your dick is a little too obvious.”
He perks up at that, kissing your cheek with reassured confidence, “It is quite large.”
—Whatever makes him feel better, y’know 😆
—That being said, it is quite large 🫣
P.S. Kyojuro begs to differ; he can see plenty when you’re spinning 😃
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Help this man 😵‍💫
He is TIRED 😮‍💨
—Don’t get me wrong!
Sanemi does his best to be a good sport 🥺
And he’s 1,000% watched your videos in “secret”, numerous times over; you are entertaining ☺️
On nights when you’re apart, he falls asleep to his Favorites list (which consists solely of you) on auto-play
But there’re just one (thousand) too many trends for him to keep up with, and he never knows when he’s going to be your ~victim again 🙃
“Is this another prank?” he sighs, only slightly exasperated as his eyes stray from your pretty mouth to your tits practically spilling from your top 🫣
“Oh, so now I can’t look nice without it being a prank?” you retort, scowling playfully, “Rude.” Raising his hands in mock defense, Sanemi smiles softly as you step closer to him
“You can touch me, y’know,” you murmur gently, “I’m not gonna break.”
Swallowing thickly, he lowers his arms, forearms hooking around your hips as he pulls you in
“Yeah,” he croaks, scanning the bedroom for wherever you might’ve hid your phone, desperation and desire bubbling in his throat, “But I’m not so sure about your outfit, it’s got so many strings and… and, holes.” 😃
You laugh cheerfully, squeezing his waist as you inform him, “They’re cutouts. They’re supposed to be sexy.” 😌
“They are,” he replies bluntly, stifling a long inhale as he willingly gives into his fate, “You are so fucking sexy.”
He’s already plucking at your shoulder straps, somehow boxing you in with his broad, chiseled body, even though it’s his back against the wall
“You’re not gonna ask me how I manage to avoid getting tangled?” you tease, your breasts pressed firm and warm into his chest as his heartbeat quickens
The question had occurred to him, but-
“Why the hell would I ask that when I could be untangling you instead?”
“Send me the video.” 😐
“Excuse me?”
You’re grinning
“Please.” 😞
He’s begging
You acquiesce, the thought of Sanemi jerking off to it later inspiring you to reach down again 😉
(Now imagine his faintly pained moan as you slowly caress him, valiantly hardening in your careful grip as he mentally prepares himself, this time intending to punish you; you can’t keep missing your reservations! 😤)
#the pranks are getting out of hand 😬
#but Sanemi can’t really find it in himself to be bothered 😶
#at least not when he’s already in something else 😏
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“Why are you going out in that?” 🤨
“What are you implying?” you frown
“I asked first.”
You huff, “And your question offended me.” 😒
Grimacing, Giyuu glances downward, “I didn’t mean-”
“Do I look horrible?” ☹️
You almost feel badly, giggles brimming in your chest 🤭
“No.”
“Do I look too good?” 😌
You can practically see the gears turning in his head 
“Yes? No. Yes. Wait. I’m confused.” 🫠
“How does my outfit make you feel?” 😉
He pauses at that, swallowing nervously as you run teasing hands up your sides, accentuating your hips and bust
“I look good, right?” 🥺
“Of course.”
“Do I look too good?” 😏
*Giyuu Panic 2.0 activated*
“What does that mean?” 😭
He’s hushed, in awe of your luscious form, inhaling roughly when you step into his immediate proximity, the hem of your dress nearly brushing against his shins as you twirl for him
“Giyuu, am I turning you on?”
When in doubt, go for frankness
*Giyuu Panic 2.0 deactivated*
Ohhh 😳🙄😎 <— he gets it now
“Not at all,” he says smoothly, “You look quite comfortable.”
You pout, fingers curling into the collar of his shirt as you nudge his feet apart, slipping your leg between his thighs as you close the distance, your body pressing clumsy and hot against his
He sighs, a quiet, enraptured sound, delicately brushing the straps of your dress from your shoulders before he rasps, “I am turned on. Delightfully so.”
Your dress crumples sheer and light to the floor, Giyuu’s jaw ticking with desire as he realizes just how easily it slipped off
“And you,” he murmurs, delicious warning in his tone as he thumbs the undersides of your tits, “Are such a pretty slut.”
“Why is it that every time I try and prank you, you end up fucking me instead?” 🥲
“Hm,” Giyuu hums, voice thick with amusement, “Seems premeditated to me.” 🥴
“Giyuu-!” you sputter 🫣
“GiYuU!” he smirks 🙃
“Are you mocking me?” 😠
“And?” he grins 😎
“See if I ever prank you again!” 😤
“Oh you will,” he remarks, nonchalant and cool, “Judging by how many times we changed the sheets yesterday, I’m not even worried.” 😃
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Ngl, Tengen’s a lil desensitized 😆
He’s got four wives
He knows you’re all hot af 😉
He knows he’s hot af 😎
There’s not much you can do to faze him
Except like, get injured or something, but that’s kinda the opposite of what you’re aiming for 🥴
“Does this mean we’re fucking after dinner?”
✨He has a way with words✨
“Tengen,” Hina scolds
“So vulgar!” Suma exclaims
“Don’t act so innocent when you’ve ambushed me looking like that,” Tengen mutters, pants already tightening as he takes in the silken fabric draped delicate and precarious over your breasts, “Who’s idea was this?”
“Whose do you think?” Makio snorts
“Tengen,” you say breezily, reaching out to grasp his hand, stroking a coy, tender thumb across his knuckles, “Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”
“Obviously,” he grunts, eyes shining with appreciation—a welcomed promise—as he raises your palm to his lips, kissing your fingertips one by one, “We’re not leaving.”
“Hold up, you made two reservations?” Tengen shrieks
Your eyes roll as if to say Duh, already rummaging for a new dress while Suma helps pat Makio’s back dry, steam from the attached bathroom wafting into the bedroom
“She’s always prepared,” Hina chirps proudly, kissing your jaw with a fond smile
“That, and Tengen’s always horny,” you smirk
You don’t really have a video suitable for YouTube 😅, but you do post Before/After photos of the ~prank on Instagram with a cheeky Unfortunately, the “During” photos are NSFW 😏🫢🍑🍆 caption
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mypoisonedvine · 4 months
Note
"I can think of a more fun way you can thank me." + "has anybody else ever made you feel like this?" with mob!bucky
oh, mob!bucky, how I've missed you <3 this turned out pretty um. fucked up tbh
warnings: smut (18+ only!!), oral m receiving and creampie, daddy kink, public sex/exhibitionism, hair pulling, established (sugar daddy) relationship
100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!
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"And what do you say when I buy you something pretty, baby?" he purred as he ran his hands over your exposed back-- funny how the dresses he bought you always showed so much skin...
"Thank you, daddy," you cooed in return, bending down to kiss him on the cheek, and he smirked as he spread his legs a bit wider in his chair.
"Doesn't she look great, boys?" he prompted the men around him, who nodded and hollered in agreement. Sometimes it could be hard to get Bucky alone, with all the guards and 'employees' of various ranking always around him. Of course, you had him to yourself every night as long as you were willing to wait for those late night drinking and poker sessions to end-- which you were, you were used to the way he lived. And you were used to the attention of his colleagues, as well, because he loved to show you off to anyone he could.
What you weren't used to was him reaching down to pet your legs suggestively like this, in front of everyone.
"You know, if you wanna thank me," he continued with a raised eyebrow, "I can think of a much more fun way."
You cleared your throat nervously, glancing at the men around you. "O-of course, daddy-- when you come to the penthouse tonight, I'll thank you all night long."
The men snickered, but Bucky wasn't satisfied. "You can thank me here," he decided. "I don't have anything to hide from them."
Your heart raced, but fuck, it turned you on, too. Especially that look in his eyes, you would've done anything he wanted right then. But you wanted to be sure you weren't misunderstanding his intentions. Leaning in, you mumbled quietly: "Do you really want me to... in front of them?"
"Yes," he answered, looking up at you expectantly; and so you kissed him as you started to sink down onto your knees in front of the chair.
Already there were some strong reactions from the men watching you: cheers, laughs, even clapping. It made you feel... several emotions. It made you fucking wet.
You broke the kiss when you were fully on the ground, running your hands up his legs until he moved his hips forward for you to open his belt. "Can I take it out for you, daddy?" you asked sweetly, and he laughed as he nodded.
"Of course, baby," he hummed.
You didn't waste any time-- you freed his cock from his suit trousers, and dove in to lick a long stripe from the base of it to his tip. He got a bit harder in your grasp, putting a hand on the back of your head to guide you to swallow him down.
"Fuck," he groaned, "she's got such a sweet little mouth..."
Your hips shifted, something sexy and filthy about the way he was talking to them instead of you. But, he did address you next.
"Show them how you can take it all, sweetheart," he encouraged, "show them what daddy taught you."
You bobbed your head lower until your lips were at his base, and his tip was pressing into your throat. They made sounds of awe and amusement, watching him hold your head down and fuck up into your mouth until you gagged loudly. He held you down for one more moment before letting you breathe again-- you pulled back and looked up at him as you sucked in air sharply. "Is that good, daddy?"
"Yes, babydoll," he assured, "you can keep going."
You got back to it, though he gave you a little more control this time, and you used it to bring your hand around him and stroke the rest of his cock while you sucked him. You still deepthroated him when you could, just with breaks in between; all while he bragged about you to his men.
"See how obedient she is?" he announced smugly. "She'll do anything for me. Such a good little girl for daddy."
They certainly seemed to agree: you heard someone say "I bet she is" and someone else notice "she really knows how to suck a cock, huh?"
Just when you thought you were doing well, Bucky grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him; before you could ask what he was doing or if you'd done something wrong, he stood up and bent you over the table roughly, slamming you down hard enough to make the poker chips and cards bounce. "Sorry, baby," he growled as you whined, "you can't get daddy all worked up like that and not expect any consequences."
He was still pinning you down by your neck with one hand while the other pulled up the bottom of your dress to expose your ass-- no panties, just like he'd told you when you left to try on the new dress. He slammed his cock inside you, making you cry and arch your back as he fucked you brutally against the table. Some of the men were still seated around it, and you shut your eyes tight so you wouldn't have to make eye contact with any of them.
"She's such a good girl for me," he praised again, "always ready to take my cock. Isn't that right, dollface? You let daddy fuck you whenever he wants?"
You nodded as you whimpered, and the men laughed. "She's so cute," one of them noticed, "no wonder he can't keep his hands off her."
"And she likes it when daddy gets rough," Bucky added with a low laugh, and you moaned louder. "Uh huh, I know, babydoll-- you love being mine so much..."
"Daddy!" you yelped as he started to pump even faster-- he certainly wasn't pulling any punches. Probably because he knew what it did to you. "Daddy, m'gonna come!"
"See how easy she is?" he smiled. "Fuck, she can't help it, she just loves getting used so much. You can come, baby, nice and loud so everybody can hear you."
"Fuck, daddy, fuck!" you moaned, legs shaking as the feeling hit you hard and sudden. You hadn't expected at all how easily you would come from this-- if anything you thought it would be harder with all these eyes on you.
You would've collapsed if you weren't being held against that table by his painfully-tight grip on your hair. "Fuck, she squeezes me so good when she comes," Bucky growled, "this cunt really knows how to treat a cock."
He seemed to be going even deeper inside of you, if that was possible, and you felt your own wetness starting to run down your legs.
"I'm close, baby, I'm fuckin' close," he warned with another tug on your hair. "You want daddy to come?"
"Yes," you whimpered.
"You want daddy's come deep inside you?"
"Yes!"
"Fuck, fuck," he groaned, and all at once he stopped, grunting through his teeth as he filled you as deep as he could go. "Fuck, babydoll... god, look how pretty you looking getting filled with come... doesn't she look pretty, boys?"
He slowly pulled out of you, but put both his hands on your ass to spread it out and get a better view of your hole.
"Damn, look't that," he praised, "can't hardly tell daddy just beat you up, you're still so tight. Push it out, honey, I want them to see how good daddy filled you."
Your face was so hot now you honestly thought you might melt-- and you kept your eyes shut tight to hide from the embarrassment-- but you heard the men leaning and looking around you to get a glimpse as you flexed your muscles to push his come out of you.
You felt a thick drop run down from your opening, and they all reacted aloud. "Good, sweetie, keep going," Bucky praised, and you whimpered as you pushed more and an even bigger wave oozed out of you.
The men couldn't keep their mouths shut now. "Damn, that's a lot of come." "She really does whatever he says." "Look at it running down her legs, what a whore." "You can tell she likes it too, look-- fucking slut."
Bucky guided you to stand up straight again, pulling your dress down to cover your ass. You blinked your eyes open, though you couldn't be too surprised as the lascivious stares of all the men in front of you. "You did so good, baby," Bucky praised softly in your ear, holding you close from behind. "They all want you so fucking bad, hm? But whose are you, doll?"
"Yours, daddy," you answered weakly.
"That's right, sweetheart," he cooed as he kissed you on the cheek, "you belong to me."
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shu-porang-porang · 2 months
Text
First Love / Late Spring
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Your first time with Minho (I wrote the whole thing just to picture that last paragraph!)
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader
Theme: fluff, explicit
Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (do not try at home!!), fluffff, not proofread, 18+ NO MINORS
Word count: 2 k
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It’s only your fourth date and you’re nervous around him. He’s not exactly easy to approach, he’s guards are up, he talks politely as if you’re a coworker, and he doesn’t initiate nor seem comfortable with any type of intimacy. If he hadn’t asked for another date, you would’ve thought he wants to have nothing to do with you. But the fact that he wanted to see you again assures you that he’s interested and is doing his best, so you decide to be more understanding and give him time to open up. That’s how you ended up having a movie date with him at your place. You realized he tends to stiffen up way more when in public, probably he’s afraid of rumors and whatnot, so you offered to just stay in, order some takeouts and watch a movie, which he gleefully accepted.  
It's indeed a chill date. Although you’re both kinda awkward, you manage to ignore the awkwardness and enjoy your meal and the movie. Not much is said during the movie, just a few comments on the characters and hard-to-grasp story line, yet these few exchanges reveal more of his true personality and make you wanna kiss his beautiful brain.
You started the movie sitting apart, neither of you confident enough to invite the other for hugs and cuddles, but towards the end, you summoned all the courage in you to reach for his hand, place it in your lap and mindlessly play with it. You see the tiniest smile in the corner of your eye that encourages you to keep going. Oh how bad you wanna bring it to your lips and kiss those gorgeous veins but you control yourself. You have no idea how the movie ended; you were too lost in holding his hand to follow the rest of the story.
He untangles his fingers from yours to fish for his phone in his pocket and checks the time.
“Oh it’s quite late, I better get going.”
Really? Was that it? Has he never heard of Netflix and Chill? Was he really here to just watch a stupid movie? You try your best to hide the disappointment but your expressions always give you away easily, you’re not the type to act. You try to think of sth to convince him to stay for a bit more, but there’s really no excuse that wouldn’t make you seem so desperate. Now that your brain cogs are running fast you realize the constant tapping of the rain that your ears had tuned out, so you give it a shot.
“You didn’t drive your car here, right? And I think it’s quite a heavy shower from the sound of it, you can stay till it’s over?”
“It’s alright, I can just get a cab or sth…” he says but he doesn’t seem so persistent. Maybe it’s just your desperation fooling you, but you sense he might not hate the idea of staying a bit longer.
“Anyways, I don’t mind, you can stay. I’ll prepare some tea!” You mentally face palm! TEA? Is that the best you could do to convince him to stay?
“Tea sounds perfect!” Turns out that was good enough!!
“Alright then!” You say a bit too excited, then get up to hurry with making the tea coz you don’t know how long the unpredictable spring shower is gonna last. 
To your surprise, your little tea party gives way to talking about everything and nothing for hours, the rain long forgotten. It’s like in a night, you got 10 years’ worth of information about him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you put a spell on him with that tea! He opened up to you more than he’d like to admit, so did you. You’re both private people but something just clicked tonight. You feel much closer to him now and hope he feels the same.
When you both finally fall silent and seem to have run out of stories for the night, you bring your hand up to his cheek, caressing it gently with your thumb. “Let’s go to bed, you had a busy day, need to get some rest.”
He leans in to your touch, holding your hand and turning his head to kiss your palm. “If we go to bed, resting is the last thing I wanna do.” It brings a shy smile to your lips, he’s suddenly bold and it makes your heart flutter. You get up and lead the way to your bedroom.
Once in the bedroom, his hand cups your face to bring it close for the sweetest kiss. His lips lock on yours and he takes a deep breath inhaling your scent before kissing you. He slowly pushes you back till the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. He lays you down on it gently, never disconnecting his lips. Each kiss is planted with utmost care, as if you’d break under his touch if he’s not careful. It’s sweet and at the same time annoying. You want him to devour you, to act bolder, to do what he really wants to do. You pull the hair at his nape and tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Thankfully, he gets the hint and his kisses get sloppier and more aggressive as he enters his tongue in your mouth. His hand roams over your clothed body, yanking at the fabric of your dress, you’re too distracted by his tongue and teeth assaulting your mouth that you don’t realize he wants it gone.
He breaks the kiss to ask: “Can I take it off?” to which you manage to answer: “Yes please” while panting.
He helps you out of your dress, lying there in your lacy underwear you feel exposed under his intense gaze, his eyes darker than usual and hooded with lust. The blush that creeps up to your cheeks is visible even in the dim lights of the room. After taking in the sight of your somewhat naked body for a few long seconds, he lowers his body back onto yours while removing his shirt. He kisses a trail from the column of your neck down to your chest. He reaches a hand back to unclasp your bra and you shuffle out of it, giving him access to your soft breasts. He covers them in playful kisses before taking a hardened nipple in his mouth sucking gently which draws a yelp from you and your hips jerk into his involuntarily. Your reaction encourages him to suck harder and his fingers take care of the other nipple, twisting and pinching the sensitive nub to demolition. He’s quite satisfied with your little whimpers here and there; he hums in approval which reverberates through your entire body.
You open your legs wider to fit him in between. As he adjusts himself between your thighs, he slides down, leaving butterfly kisses on his way to your panties. His face is only millimeters away from your throbbing core, he can feel the heat radiating from it. He looks up at you, silently asking if he can proceed. You hastily nod, how could you say no to those gorgeous feline eyes? He flashes you a little smirk before dipping his nose to your covered core and taking a whiff with his eyes closed, as if he’s taking in the scent of a flower bouquet. You’re embarrassed and turned on at the same time. Finally, he removes your panties and discards it somewhere on the floor, and without hesitation darts his tongue out to lick a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. You feel your orgasm building up as he keeps alternating between lapping at your entrance and sucking on your clit. Your grip on his hair gets tighter and your thighs close around his head. To bring you to completion, he inserts two fingers in so he can dedicate his mouth to your clit. Soon after you cum moaning his name, like how you imagined you would. He helps you ride your orgasm and kisses your inner thighs as you’re coming down from it, trying to catch your breath.
He crawls up and moves the strands of hair away from your face so he can kiss you and give you a taste of yourself. “You taste so good; you should try it.” he says before closing his lips on yours and shoving his tongue in, you suck on it, tasting the remnants of your arousal.
“Do you think you can keep going?” he whispers against your lips.
“I sure can.” you reply, closing the gap to kiss his swollen lips again.
He sits back up and you watch him with anticipation. You felt his bulge multiple times tonight, but still have no idea what’s coming for you. He’s fast to unbuckle his belt and rid himself of his pants and boxers. His erection, hard and proud, slaps against his stomach. You certainly did not expect this. It scares you a bit, even though he worked you up well you’re afraid you might need more preparation to fit it in. His hand wraps around it pumping a few times and smearing precum on the tip before hovering back over you, he slides it between your folds to cover it in your juices. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer for a kiss, no matter what, you can’t get enough of those soft lips. You feel his tip poking your entrance and your mouth falls slack once it finally enters you. Your grip around him tightens and breath is knocked out of your lungs as the stretch overwhelms you.
“Are you okay baby? should we stop?” he asks once he notices how tensed you got.
“No… just… a second” you don’t want it to end there, you want him, all of him.
He peppers kisses all over your face while waiting for you to adjust, telling you how perfect you are and how well you’re doing in between the kisses. It melts your heart how gentle he is. You ask him to move and he sinks a bit deeper, and deeper, and deeper until there’s no more room for him to go, yet he manages to rearrange your insides and bottoms out. He stays still for a while, brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, enjoying the warm hug of your velvety walls around him, then he starts with slow thrusts, testing the waters. Soon the room is filled with lewd sounds of skin slapping and moans. He shakes the bed with each thrust, you hold onto him for dear life, years of dance practice and workout have given him unmatched strength, his precision is remarkable as well. You’re about to fall apart for the second time tonight.
“Min…. cumming..”
“Cum for me…. Don’t forget to… say my name…”
And you do so as your walls flutter and cream around his cock. He keeps pounding into you chasing his own release, your insides are on fire. Finally, the forceful thrusts turn into ruts, his teeth dig into your shoulder as he comes. He bullies his cock into you milking it dry while riding his high, and you hear your name in between the groans leaving his agape mouth. He pulls out and drops next to you. you feel your mixed juices gushing out, soaking the sheets.
He props up on his elbow, his other hand caressing your cheek. “I hope I wasn’t too harsh. You did so well baby.” he says and then leans in to kiss your forehead.
“No, it was great… thank you.” you cup his face and give him a sweet lingering kiss.
You need to get up and clean up, but something about this moment is so pure you don’t wanna disturb it. So, instead, you hug his head, pressing it to your chest. He wraps his arms around you and snuggles closer, leaving no gap between the two of you. You grab a blanket you can reach and cover your sticky bodies.
 You watch the sky grow lighter as your fingers play with his soft locks. Your slightly ajar window lets in the scent of rain mixed with something flowery, it’s jasmine you decide. Birds are chirping but his steady breathing is a far better melody to your ears. The cool breeze and his warmth are the perfect combination that eventually put you to sleep.
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galesleftearring · 6 months
Text
Sleep Well
Gale x Reader (Baldur's Gate 3)
Rating: Explicit. 18+ only.
CW: AFAB reader, no pronouns or names used. Graphic descriptions of oral sex. Mentions of p.i.v.
Since I hit 69 followers on this blog, you all voted if I should celebrate by writing something, and I did. Enjoy! This is my first time writing for Gale and I don't expect it to be my last.
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Gale sighed and put down the book he'd been reading. He yawned and stretched like a cat, his fingers finding your hairline and gently stroking. "Shall we go to bed, my love?"
You nuzzled your cheek into his thigh where you lay. "Mm, I think I could stay like this forever."
He chuckled, tracing the line of your cheekbone with his thumb.
"As could I, but we have a long day of travel ahead of us. We need to be well rested for whatever tomorrow will bring."
You pouted, nestling your face further into his lap. "But I'm so comfortable here," you complained, only half in jest. "And I'm not sleepy."
Gale sighed. "The rest of camp is surely asleep by now. We have already stayed up a bit too late reading. We should-"
You cut him off. "Well, if the others are all asleep..."
You turned your head ever so slightly, meeting his warm gaze. You could get lost in those deep brown eyes. The look in them was one of pure adoration, no secrets swimming in their depths. From the moment he had confessed his love to you, any reservations he had held had melted away at the assurance of your hand in his. He loved you.
A smile teased at his lips. "Oh, I see. Perhaps you want me to, erm, wear you out? Make sure you sleep well tonight?"
You nodded, blushing slightly.
He hummed approval, easing you off of his lap as he pulled off his tunic. His broad chest, tattoo tracing its way from his heart to his cheek, was softly illuminated in the candlelight.
"Come here." His voice was thick with arousal, somewhere between an order and a plea. He could have been begging, he could have been demanding. You stood, shucking off your own nightclothes, before kneeling, straddling his head, but not lowering yourself fully. Close enough for him to smell your arousal but not letting him taste you yet.
He groaned, hands rising to your hips as though to pull you onto him, hold you steady while you rode his tongue as you had many times before.
You grasped his fingers before he could pull your hips down, close the distance between your slick cunt and his warm mouth. He let out a small whine of protest. He was hungry for you.
"Is this what you want?" You teased, "do you want me to sit down? Do you want to taste me?"
Gale let out a low moan. "You know that's all I want, all I've ever wanted. I crave your nectar." So poetic, even with his pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed.
"Then you're going to have to let me taste you first." A wicked grin spread across your face as you lifted up, gently pushing his hands down to his sides.
"My love, you know you never have to--that I never expect you to--Aah!" Gale gasped sharply as you unlaced his breeches and pulled them down, exposing his already hard cock to the night air filling his tent. Running a finger up the vein on the underside, you smiled. "Good boy, already so hard for me. You know exactly what I want, don't you?"
Pressing a kiss to the head, you scooted down so that you were resting on your stomach between Gale's thighs. You knew that if you didn't take him like this, he would be content to make you cum against his mouth again and again, only seeking his own pleasure once you were a mewling mess begging for him to fill your sensitive, twitching pussy. You loved that about him--how could you not be damn near addicted to such a generous lover?
But as delightful as it was to watch him shudder with desire just from giving you orgasm after orgasm, you found that there was a very real part of you that wanted to do the same for him. Make him squirm and whimper your name, bucking his hips into your hand as you stroked him. Take his cock into your mouth until you were choking on it, tears streaming down your face. See, you would think, see how completely undone I am for you? How I worship you every bit as much as you worship me?
This was one of those nights. Just as you were lowering your head about to start sucking at his cock, Gale placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you. "No, not like this."
Immediately, you sat up. "What's wrong? We can stop if you're uncomfortable or too tired or--"
He cut you off with a low laugh.
"No, no. What you were about to do is.... delightful. Please, do not think that the feeling of your lips around me does not drive me wild. It does, most assuredly. I simply want--I still want to taste you. In fact, I'd prefer to taste you while you do that, if it's all the same to you."
You felt your eyes widen. "Absolutely," you choked out, "I would love that."
Rising from between his legs, you crouched above his face once more, this time facing his crotch. The moment you lowered yourself fully onto Gale's lips, his cock twitched and a small bead of precum bloomed from the tip.
You rocked your hips slightly against him, the friction sending jolts of pleasure along your clit. Moaning, you leaned forward, gently pulling his thighs toward you for balance. With his feet flat on his bedroll, Gale spread his legs. You bent forward, taking his tip into your mouth and licking the precum from it. Gently, you flicked your tongue across the slit there, widening the circle until you were tracing the flare at the base of the head with just your tongue.
He moaned into you and the vibration of the sound made you let out a whine of your own, muffled by your mouthful of cock.
As your pace quickened, the careful patterns Gale had been tracing along your folds became more frenzied. His fingers, usually so gentle, dug into the flesh of your hips as he pulled himself deeper into you, tongue flicking into your vagina with a desperation you'd never felt from him before, even on your first few nights together. If you hadn't had your mouth full, you thought you would have been screaming his name.
Instead, you moaned louder against his shaft as your head bobbed, taking every inch of him if only to stifle the sounds he was rending from you as he tonguefucked you. It was too much. You came with a gasp, needily grinding against his chin as he kept licking and sucking you through your orgasm.
Even though you had stopped working him as you came, the sound and taste of your orgasm sent him rutting up into your mouth again, rougher this time, thrusting up into your mouth while you held your head still and came down from your high. He was close, you could tell from his whimpers that he was about to spill. Once you could breathe again, you pulled a hand from his leg and began to stroke him, his shaft slick with your spit, as you ran your tongue along the head. Faster, faster, until he came, his load spilling down your throat with a beautiful moan.
You swallowed, your throat contracting as you licked the last of his cum from his still twitching dick.
Gingerly, you rolled off of him and resituated so that you were lying on the bedroll beside him, your faces only inches apart. Gale rolled onto his side and kissed you, deeply, sloppily. You tasted yourself on his tongue and knew he must taste the salty tang of his semen in your mouth as well.
Satisfied and slightly out of breath, he pulled back. "Was that...what you...had hoped for?" He gasped.
"Oh Gale," you murmured as you buried your face in his chest, "I don't even know where to start." Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep.
Gale raised one big hand to cradle your face. "Start with sleep, my darling."
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nariism · 3 months
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*ੈ✩ LAST WORDS OF A SHOOTING STAR
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pair. itadori yuji x reader
synopsis. in the 3 days following the shibuya incident, itadori yuji emerges as a husk of his former self. with his immediate execution resumed, you both grapple with the feelings you have for each other and come to terms with his impending death.
content. hurt/comfort (lots of comfort, thank art because i was gonna be mean about this and they convinced me not to), slightly canon divergent (taking place between shibuya and the culling games), fluff and minor angst, yuta is the best wingman
wc. ~4.4k
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NOVEMBER 1 2018
You imagine that your face was rather ghastly when you received the news.
"Execution?" You repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. No, that was the wrong description. It tasted of death—like iron and the depths of Hell filling your mouth until you were gurgling on it.
Unlike the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo, you had been ordered to stay back with Shoko in case of an emergency. You remember your exile from battle had left a similar rotten flavour in your mouth.
You vanished off the face of the earth after the incident was over. Most probably presumed you died in the aftermath. Devoured by a curse, they would say and shake their heads. You were always troublesome. And then they would move on with the rest of the world, all the same.
Lives were only temporary in the world of curses. Focus on who you can save, not who is already gone. They'll only end up a curse in your sleep. What a horrible notion to have.
The truth is that you'd been whisked away with Yuta, who seemed to be scheming a plan of his own. Perhaps as a middle finger to the higher ups he hated so much, or perhaps just for his own selfish reasons. You wouldn't know until he was finished carrying it through—he's too good at keeping secrets.
He wanted your reverse cursed technique, you knew that much for sure, even though he could do it himself. You were useful by his side, fitting into his plot in a way you could not in Shibuya. Feeling some sort of obligation and satisfaction, you followed him like a lost puppy.
And now here you are, seated by a dimming fire in the abandoned part of the city. Yuta was too clever for his own good. You suppose Gojo taught him some things well. This was their plan after all.
Yuji was safe, if only for this moment in time.
"Now with Gojo gone, it would have been easy for the higher ups to send assassins your way."
Ruthless and truthful, you flinch, but Yuji does not. He remains perfectly still in your hold, with your hands rotating his face around to get a better look at his wounds. You pour your cursed energy into him, hoping to breathe life back into his eyes, but they stay dull and empty.
"We'll find a way to stop this," you assure, reaching over to take a sanitizing wipe to clean an open cut. Yuta was too rough on him, but it was at least believable that Yuji was dead. He doesn't even recoil from the alcohol stinging his flesh, too engrossed in his own thoughts.
"Why?" He asks weakly. You gawk at him, but then it melts away into a softness that finally makes him blink up at you. "I'm evil."
"You're not evil, Yuji."
"I am. I killed those people. I did." His voice comes flat and defeated, nothing like the one you used to listen to over dinner while he reenacted shitty western films.
You never realize what you'll miss until it's gone. It's hollow, the ache in your heart.
"You don't understand. How could you? All this blood on my hands—"
"It was Sukuna," you quickly refute.
"And Sukuna only lives because I do!"
His voice raises at you, causing the flames behind you to flicker and crack. It's enough for Yuta to step in, acting as a barrier between your tense bodies. Yuji seems to shrink at this, realizing his emotions have run amok and that he has yelled at you.
You only stare back at him in bewilderment, like a frightened animal. Your upperclassman shakes his head.
"Enough of this. We need to start making plans."
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You lay awake that night, alone and anxious. Yuta has taken the first shift of watching and patrolling while the two of you rest, though hesitant to leave you alone. He told you it’s another reason he dragged you along: having three people to rotate shifts instead of just two would be easier on your bodies and minds. The city is not what it used to be, now overrun with curses of all grades.
You reassured him it would be fine, that you would fall asleep quickly and so would Yuji—his body has to run out of steam eventually, right? Oh, what a fool you were.
The tension is so heavy that it's awkward, even though you're sleeping on opposite ends of the tunnel.
"Sleep," you demand as if you were Inumaki, like you have the power to curse him.
His eyes flutter open. Even in the firelight, you don't see any shine in them, seeming as if they had been extinguished of life. "Why don't you?"
"I can't until you do."
"That's stupid," he tells you.
It's not the first time you've argued like this. Back when the world felt right, you would sneak in through his dorm window well into the hours of the night. Platonic, you had convinced yourself. You snuck into his bed seeking companionship as a friend. That's the lie you gorged on.
A piece of you knew, and you're sure he did too, that the way your hands explored his arms was unnatural for two friends, and that friends wouldn't sneak into each other's rooms like this with such severe punishment on the line.
It was safe in his arms, with the dull hum of his television running an old horror film in the background. You didn't have to think about much other than his warmth when you sat between his legs with your back to his chest. Or when his arm was draped over your shoulder and you were pressed into his side—actually, you think you preferred this one though you felt sorry for his sore arm.
You would bicker about dumb, pointless things. Which movie is better, or which character deserved to be mutilated more. It would go on for so long that Megumi would bang his fist on their shared wall to get the two of you to shut up.
There was no curse strong enough to change time itself, so you keep your thoughts and memories to yourself when you respond.
"You'll be too tired to function on your shift," you reason.
"You both will be fine without me." Better off without me, you know he means. You've gotten good at reading between his lines.
You slowly sit up in your sleeping bag, eyes never leaving Yuji. He seems so frail right now, even though he looks more adult than he ever has before.
"Human Earthworm 4 was better than 2," you suddenly say. His eyes peer open again in confusion.
"Huh? 2 was way better."
"I liked the love story in 4," you argue, slowly getting out of your bag to shuffle to his side of the concrete tunnel. He looks at you as if you've said something outlandish, too preoccupied with his thoughts to wonder why you've come so close.
"2 had the best special effects though."
Your body shifts under his blanket.
"But 4 had a happier ending." (As far as 'happy' goes in the Human Earthworm series, at least.)
His arm falls around your waist as it has a hundred times, pulling you into his chest.
"Whatever," he huffs. The next topic comes fast and you're thrown into a full blown conversation with him. If you concentrate enough, you can imagine your bodies being tangled together in his bed, safe and sound.
Concrete and fire and the stench of curses melt away until he's all you can focus on.
"You have weird taste in movies," he concludes with his eyes drifting shut.
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NOVEMBER 2 2018
You think you know how to fix broken people until you find that they are more than skin and bones. 
You learn one thing after the Shibuya Incident: there are wounds residing within Yuji just as much as there are marking his flesh.
Yuta, you realize, had left the two of you alone to sleep and has protected you all night. You'll make it up to him, you reason. Yuji deserved to sleep.
When you wake up to his sleeping face, you think his cuts are healing nicely. But then his expression twists up in terror—a nightmare, if he even had enough energy left in him to conjure up dreams. He murmurs in his sleep, shakes his head a few times and thrashes around so much you're surprised you slept through the night by his side.
"Sukuna," he's whispering. Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna. King of Curses. The second voice tormenting him that lives in his own brain like a parasite. You bury yourself into his chest and hold him as tight as you can. He relaxes, body releasing its rigid form, but the murmurs continue.
He is shattered beyond repair. No amount of cursed energy could fix that, even if you tried.
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You had once watched Yuji electrocute himself trying to set up the janky old television in his dorm room.
He fell back onto the floor with a loud crash, head hitting the wood so hard you thought he might have a concussion. It caused such a racket that Megumi came running into the room asking what happened, demon dog ready behind him in case of an ambush.
You rushed to the floor, discarding all the food you had settled in your lap and crumbled beside him to scoop him into your arms.
"Yuji!" You called him. People rarely used his first name. You felt special, like you knew him better than others did and for some reason that was a privilege. "Are you okay?"
He laughed in your arms, seeming unfazed by the fact that electricity had run through every vein in his body. "I'm fine, see? My finger just slipped."
You and Megumi both sighed in relief, though you always thought it was strange when you reflected on it. Yuji was a funny guy, yes. He was equal parts humour and destruction but not a klutz. Mistakes happen, so you let it slide until now, but some part of you was nagging to ask.
"That day," you start while rolling up your sleeping bag. "You electrocuted yourself. Remember?"
He looks at you funny over his shoulder. Yuta has already started cracking open cans of food for breakfast, embers of your dead fire cracking.
"Hmm, yeah. I remember. Why?"
"I just thought..." you trail off. "Well, Sukuna makes you tough to a lot of things. I'm surprised small electric shocks aren't one of them."
Sukuna. A name you'd been avoiding since this morning. Sickening silence settles between you. It's so heavy that you pause in your cleaning to look at him, brow raised.
"Yeah," he coughs. "Well, maybe I exaggerated."
"Huh?" You sound annoyed now. "You scared us half to death!"
Yuji only falters in his own chores. When he looks at you again, there's a longing in his gaze that you don't know how you could have missed. Or perhaps it was never there until now.
"It was nice to have you fawning over me," he admits.
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The day goes on and all you feel is a terrible grief.
You become painfully aware of each millimeter the sun glides across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Time slips through your fingers fast as sand.
Horrifically, you can't find anything to talk about to fill the emptiness—Nobara and Megumi feel off the table considering the extent of their injuries. You don't even dare to breathe Gojo's name, let alone speak of him so boldly as Yuta is.
You're afraid that Yuji will spiral again, confused and unwilling to cooperate with his judgement clouded by loss. It's not your fault, you would say. It is, he would argue. It would do neither of you good, so you idle around while he and Yuta devise plans to tiptoe around the higher ups.
A part of you knows that if either of you told him to submit and die, he would. He's already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.
On the outside, he seems perfectly indifferent. Gaze steady, face stone and unchanging as he speaks. He's doomed, ill-fated, someone full of misfortune. He looks so lonely that the air itself parts for him where he stands.
To shoulder so much responsibility, so much death, maybe he truly is alone. Some fraction of him, at least—a piece of himself only he would ever understand.
Your hand snakes into his without a second thought. You don't know why you did it, nor do you have any reasoning that he doesn't yank away from you. His hand trembles, and it's then that you realize his whole body is wracked with tremors that don't match his distant disposition.
The second thing you learn is this: when Yuji self-destructs, he does it from the inside-out.
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Itadori Yuji loves chocolate cake.
He loves all food, really, acting like your friend group's personal food dumpster whenever any of you were full. But chocolate cake you knew he had a sweet tooth for.
You used to bring it with you to his dorm, stopping by the convenience stores on the way home to grab a pre-packaged slice from the fridge for him to eat.
"You're making a mess," you would tell him with a frown, using your thumb to wipe up frosting from the corner of his mouth. You would lick the pad of your finger clean after that, and he would watch almost in a trance.
It's the reason why you stop on one of your patrols, poking through the fridge section of a convenience store. The power has been out for a long time in this part of the city, all the food is already room temperature, but you figure this is fine as long as it smells okay.
The way Yuji's face lights up when he sees you is all it takes for the worry to go away.
It briefly feels as though nothing has ever gone wrong—that after this slice of cake the two of you will tumble back onto his mattress and turn on another showing of Titanic. (He groaned about it once, saying he got KO'd too many times during this film. You only laughed in confusion.)
At the end of the day, you know those days will never come back to you, lost forever in the wind.
Fire dances before you and you watch, enchanted by the flames. You remember last night, how not even the firelight could make Yuji look the same as he did before. You turn your head to look at him, to see if it's any different tonight, just for your cheek to be caught in his palm.
His thumb traces your lip, the way you used to do to him. You recognize the pull of his finger against your flesh, the swipe of it to get frosting off, but he still seems dissatisfied.
"What?" You ask.
"It didn't come off," he mutters, leaning in dangerously close to observe. Heat rises all the way to your cheeks and makes your hairs stand on end. His touch is like molten lava. You wonder if it has something to do with the monster living inside of him.
"I can't see it," you whine without a mirror.
He draws a little closer, until he's inches from your face. "Let me..."
You've suddenly been dropped into cold, unknown waters. This is all unfamiliar. He's rushing this, as if making up for all the time the two of you lost pretending you were only friends. As if he can cram all the things he's wanted to tell you into one night.
Recoiling away, you find yourself hesitating. If he kisses you, this all becomes too real. It's an acknowledgment of his impending death. That the thread of his life is finer and further stretched than yours is.
An unpleasant thought rings through your mind. What if I become a curse on him?
"This only ends badly for us," you whisper, but the conviction is missing from your voice.
He doesn't care. At least, it doesn't look like he does. Who knows what he's thinking right now?
"Who cares?" He says. "We're Jujutsu Sorcerers. Everything bad happens to us no matter what."
You don't have any rebuttal to that, no argument that forms in your mind that could challenge his words. He was right. Only disaster befalls Sorcerers. Disaster and grief.
For a while you had forgotten, living these idyllic months watching the days pass by. You feel like you wasted that precious time worrying about stupid things, like what to have for breakfast or what kind of snacks you should pick up for movie night.
(It ended up being popcorn every time. He liked to piss off Sukuna with it, saying the King of Curses would never get to experience the pleasure of picking out kernels from his teeth. You scoffed but bought it anyway.)
Another thought crosses your mind: Yuji is more fit to be in a rom-com, or a television series where the good guys always win. Not this tragedy. Not this massacre.
You wonder if he's ever felt the same way. If he ever wished he could reach into the sky and turn the sun back to a time before he even knew what a curse was.
If you’d met each other under different circumstances, would this have been a different story? The thought makes your heart ache, a part of you so deep that even if you reached into your chest and plucked it, you'd still wail.
"Can I?" He asks you, eager but quiet. Had this been a few months ago, you imagine that he would have had this spark in his eye. That his lips would be crashing into yours with no inhibition.
But Yuji has always been selfless, you think he always will be. He doesn't want to drag you down if you don't want to—an out, they call it. An escape route just before he careens into a ditch.
Hope has drained from every inch of his expression. This is his loneliness talking.
Despite the dread that licks up your spine, you cup his face. You swear he jolts slightly beneath your touch, as if you've reached out to strike him down. A retribution he believes he deserves.
He kisses you like it's his last day on earth. 
You learn one last thing: Itadori Yuji tastes familiarly of death.
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Yuta decides to leave you alone for a second night in a row. His presence is so crushing that you know he's alive, but he stalks off somewhere else, leaving just you and Yuji huddled by the pitiful fire you've built.
He once claimed himself jokingly to be a love expert, and then ran off to Kenya for so long that you lost track of how much time passed. You wish you'd asked him before he left what he meant, but at the time it seemed irrelevant. Insignificant. The name Itadori Yuji had not yet been impressed into your heart like a seal.
You're busy setting up the sleeping bags, this time pushing them flush together. They're so close you can barely see the seam between them. Yuji stands on the other side of the fire, watching.
It reminds him of all the times you'd ever scolded him for not making his bed in the morning. I'm gonna crawl back in tonight anyway, he said. Who cares if it's messy?
Idiot, you would call him. But there was no malice behind it. He treated it like a pet name, a badge of honour to be your idiot.
Life felt so simple back then. He was full of determination and life and stuck to his morals as best he could. When he wavered he would text you to come over so you could fall asleep on his chest and suffocate any other thoughts out of his head.
"I've never felt so powerful before," he admits quietly.  You turn to look at him, curious. "Like I could do anything in the world."
There's a negative connotation to that, you know. He could do anything. The world would crumble at his feet and there he would stand, laughing at it all. It isn't his will, not even slightly, but the demon taking refuge in his body would love to see the blood pool.
"Like I could just... reach out and—"
"Yuji!" You hiss, lurching forward to take his hand into yours and retreat from the flame. The skin is already pink and blistering, scorched by the embers. You twist his wrist around, observing where the fire licked the deepest, and pour your energy into him.
When you look up to see if he's crying, or at least grimacing in pain, you find only his smiling face—warm and adoring. For a second it feels like the world isn't burning around you.
It was nice to have you fawning over me.
You wipe that stupid smirk off his face, leaning in to smear a kiss along the scar on his lip.
"Idiot," you say, and he laughs for the first time in so long that it sounds foreign in your ears.
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(He doesn't fall asleep that night. He would rather savour the sound of your soft snores, memorize the form of your body in his hold, and try his hardest to burn this into his brain.
So be it if you come to curse him one day. He would welcome you with open arms.)
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NOVEMBER 3 2018
The day comes when Megumi sneaks into your hideout, asking for help.
His sister, he explains. He needs help saving Tsumiki. For some reason, resentment boils in your stomach, but then it's snuffed just as fast.
Two days and two nights you've spent pretending Japan isn't collapsing, content with sitting idly by as curses overran Tokyo. You're sure Megumi thought you to be cowards, that you were all hiding under this bridge to wait out the hellstorm that was raining down on your homes.
It was true to some extent. Once Yuji stepped out into battle again, that was that. You're not sure things would ever be the same again, though you suppose you lost the privilege of routine days ago.
"Let me come too," you urge. Three pairs of eyes land on you.
"No," Yuji pushes. "It's dangerous."
"I can fight!"
"You can't," he pauses, then corrects himself, "You won't."
Awkward silence settles over your encampment. Yuta stirs, standing to hold you steady by the shoulders.
"If we need help... if one of us is hurt, we'll need you unharmed. Do you understand?"
Ah, ever so wise, your upperclassman. So easy to persuade you. There's a reason why he's the chosen one only second to Gojo.
You swallow the bile that fights up your throat. "What if you don't come back?"
Yuji steps in this time, knocking away Yuta to hold you by the face. Get a grip, this means. Pull yourself together, don't you dare fall apart in front of me.
"We will."
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You once considered telling him how you felt, letting it eat away at you until Nobara groaned in disgust.
“If Itadori starts dating before I do, I’ll puke.”
You remember that you laughed, thinking she was so dramatic. You loved that about her. “I think you would do worse.”
She glared at you, foot lightly kicking at your shin under the table. Still, she made sure to push equal amounts of rice to your side of the plate. “I might burn a village down,” she huffed, placing her chin on her palm.
“You’re fine. Even if I told him how I feel, I don’t think he’d accept.”
“Huh?” Nobara sounded genuinely confused, raising a brow at you. “What makes you think that?”
You didn't know how to answer that. Maybe you were just afraid that you had misinterpreted everything, that the way he held you was protective in a familial manner and that he would slam his door in your face when you tried.
Looking back on it, you can imagine him in the next room ranting about the same things to Megumi.
“He still has posters of Jennifer Lawrence on his wall,” you argued weakly while shoveling rice into your spoon. She watched you take your bite with her lips parted in disbelief.
You wish you had told him, then. Not that it would have changed where you both ended up.
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You watch as they pack up their things.
Megumi's demon dog keeps you quiet company, tail thrashing against the ground as you slick back its fur. They talk around the dying flames, devising plan after plan. None seem safe. None would be.
Yuta and Megumi leave first, taking the lead in front of the pack. His dog melts into the shadows and disappears, leaving you sitting alone.
"I want to take you back, but..." Yuji glances over his shoulder toward his death sentence. "Will you make it okay on your own?"
You get up slowly, as if to draw out the time he stands before you. A thousand questions run through your head: what if you never see him again? What if this kills him, not by body, but by his already damaged soul?
He must sense the racing of your mind, so he leans in to engulf you in his arms. In an instant, memories of those days spent lounging in his bed, shoveling your food onto his plate, and purposefully talking louder to tease Megumi come flooding.
A year you would never forget. You're sure it'll become a curse if you dwell, so you tell him: "I'll make it. You go on, they need you."
I need you, too. Stay. If only it were so simple.
He smiles at you, warm like the sun that's hidden behind the barrier. Itadori Yuji looks like a ghost of his former self, battle-worn and covered in scars where his skin used to be smooth. He kisses you again for good measure, making sure he remembers the way you sigh into his mouth.
When he pulls away, there's life gleaming in his eyes.
"Let's watch Human Earthworm 5 when I come back."
Your thumb brushes the corner of his lip. You open your mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth after all this time. You'd rather not die regretting you never said it, after all.
But you stop.
"I prefer Titanic," you confess. He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. Then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.
You'll make up for lost time one day. It won’t be today. You can tell him all about your feelings when he comes back to you.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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mywritingonlyfans · 9 months
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Rapture. // Cillian Murphy X Reader. (Smut!)
prompt: You're younger, and love partnered with Cillian in filming a movie. He's developed certain feelings for you and finding himself struggling with them recently, until things get worse with the idea of a sex scene being added to the script. (age gap, wax play and some other sex stuff)
words: 4,3K.
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He had received the script update that morning, and as he saw your eyes shift away from him during casual conversations before rehearsals, he knew you had read the new scenes. Both of you were aware of the possibility of that much-discussed sex scene that the director was considering adding. However, neither of you had imagined how it would play out, and the thought of being partially undressed in front of each other felt somewhat odd. Still, Cillian couldn't help but envision the words he had read earlier that morning coming to life in just a few weeks' time.
Now, you were sitting across from him, wearing a loose blouse and comfortable shorts, with your legs crossed. Your fingers tapped lightly on the script as you read your lines. As the others left the room, he realized that your nervousness wasn't about needing to rehearse in a few minutes, but about him being there. Cillian had initially dismissed his thoughts about you, attributing them to the recent divorce he was going through. However, he soon realized that these feelings were more than just passing thoughts.
He had already developed a pure and genuine admiration for you. He found himself lost in daydreams of conversations you could have, where he could rest your head on his chest and kiss your forehead, assuring you that everything was alright. Just as he found himself reliving the moments when you would get excited and talkative about the books you were reading after he mentioned that he had already read them. Each time you passionately shared your thoughts and enthusiasm for the stories, he couldn't help but be captivated by your animated expressions. The way your eyes would light up, the gestures you made, and the genuine joy in your voice made him smile, even long after the conversations had ended.
Yet, your expressions, your smiles, and your worries were too precious for him, but he reminded himself daily that such feelings were wrong, even though he couldn't stop them from growing.
What used to be harmless had taken a different turn after those new scenes were added to your interactions. Reading the scene had been somewhat painful, but seeing you there in person made it even more overwhelming (though not necessarily bad). The room was small, with scented candles around, something the director believed would help the actors feel at ease, though that wasn't the result Cillian was experiencing. He was practically lying in front of you, trying to make himself comfortable, avoiding looking into your eyes, though he hadn't noticed that his hands were sweaty and his breathing was heavier.
Still, he mustered the courage to gaze at you for a brief moment, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling. "You've read it, haven't you? How do you feel?" Your nervous laughter was adorable, and your hands tightened around the script, making him notice how delicate and smaller they were compared to his own. "Yeah, I read it," your voice sounded weak, and he waited for your prolonged sigh before you continued. "I've never done something like this before, not even in theater." His face turned red, and he tried to comfort you with just a look. Touching you at this moment felt like a terrible idea, but he still did it, sitting next to you, making sure his shoulder touched yours. Contrary to what he thought, you seemed to relax at the contact, appearing more relieved. "It must be strange having to do this scene with me, given that I have no experience. Sometimes I feel like I'm not bringing positive results to your work." He immediately shook his head, hating it when you belittled yourself. You were incredibly talented.
Still, he lingered on those words. How inexperienced were you really? He had to control himself not to sound breathless as he continued, "You actually make it more enjoyable, and it'll be fine. If you agree, we can go through the lines before filming the scene. And if there's anything I can do to make you feel more at ease with this or anything else, I'll be right here." You turned to him, your angelic face now less worried, and nodded, unsure of what to say. There was a comfortable silence, and Cillian found himself smiling with closed eyes. Stopping these thoughts might be better, but they were inevitable. All he could do was wait and deal with it when the time came, even if there were more scenes after this, as well as marketing and interviews after all the filming...
...
He woke up feeling hot, drops of sweat on his temples and his chest damp. His mouth was dry, and his mind was still on your slightly parted lips, imagining how they would grow wetter as you felt him on your skin the previous night. He felt tight in his shorts, and your scent near him caused a pounding in his head. You were peacefully asleep as if you had never given yourself to him, as if you hadn't suggested adding more intensity to your lovemaking after exhausting all your muscles and neurons together. He hugged your body tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer against him. You snuggled into him, and he brushed your hair away from your face and neck, kissing the spot with caution, yet urgency, until you slowly woke up and reciprocated. Your touch was delicate and gentle, just as he had fantasized before, and it fed his mind entirely.
And you felt like you could still taste yourself on him as he intensified the kisses, and your control was slipping away with each firm squeeze he gave your hips and how solidly hard he was against you. Cillian was aware that you enjoyed it—the marks left, the momentary pain when he bit your thigh, and the darker hues that you hid the next day from the intense way he kissed your breasts while you rode him. Your serene eyes and slightly parted lips showed calm facial expressions, and you found yourself surrendering to him fully. Despite no apparent reason except him being older than you, and even though it might be considered inappropriate, he found himself enjoying the thought while your features became even more devoted.
He unbuttoned your last buttons, leaving his hands free to explore every inch of you, and smiled at your soft moan when his fingers touched the marks under your breast. He kissed the spot, running his tongue over the sensitive skin, and grunted at your soft whimper. Your head was buried deep in the pillow, and Cillian didn't hesitate to position himself so he had a full view of you.
"I have an idea, I think you'll like it," he whispered, out of breath, and you chuckled in response. The room was still dark, far from dawn, and the only illumination came from the scented candles you kept on the nightstand to create a soothing sleeping environment. He had them well-reserved in his mind at the moment.
"Can I hear it first, sir?" you asked curiously, completely surrendering to this. Cillian loved how you trusted him without even needing to hesitate, even though there was no apparent reason to trust him other than him being older than you, and even though it might be considered inappropriate. He found himself enjoying that thought as your features became even more devoted. He nodded and unbuttoned your last buttons, leaving his hands free to explore every inch of you, smiling at your soft moan when his fingers touched the marks under your breast. He kissed the spot, running his tongue over the sensitive skin, and grunted at your soft whimper. Your head was buried deep in the pillow, and Cillian didn't hesitate to position himself so he had a full view of you.
"I'll try it, and you'll tell me if it's not okay, alright?" You were a bit whiny and clearly still sensitive from the previous hours, and he loved that. Your gaze was satisfied, and your muscles visibly relaxed; he loved the effect he had on you. You nodded, "I'm okay, Cill." Your hands went to his hair as he moved to your collarbone, showering it with kisses, bites, sucks, and eventually, firm grips. He could taste the flavor of your moans and cries on the tip of his tongue.
 Something about it felt so real it burned in him. The recorded scene of the film was recurrent and he was there confirming the perfection of what he had seen before.
He enjoyed the way you let him do whatever he wanted with you, how it consumed his mind and forced him to maintain control, not to go too far with you. The knowledge that no one had touched you before, tasted you, or marked you in such an intense way only heightened everything further. His teeth chattered, and his knees felt weak at what was to come.
Pulling away, he gracefully tugged on your hair, and his chest was filled with your half-closed, half-tired gaze that seemed to pierce him. He rubbed against the sheets beneath him, feeling sore just from the thought alone, and you chuckled sweetly. His head swirled, and he leaned over and grasped the candle holder, his fingertips briefly turning red from the heat. You paid more attention, adjusting yourself on the pillow, but he disapproved, "You don't need to do that; I want you to relax like before, princess. Just focus on emptying your mind, lie down and be cute."
You did nothing but nod and return to your previous position, but this time letting your body go limp wasn't so easy. You could feel how wet you were from the mere thought of what had already corrupted your mind. Still between your legs, Cillian caressed the inside of your thigh, and you realized you had closed them; your mind was cluttered and hard to control. You spread them apart, leaving no room for ambiguity, making it clear that you didn't want him to hold back with whatever this was. He positioned himself better between you, allowing you to feel how heavy he was even with layers of fabric between you—his shorts and your panties. You could swear you already had a wet spot in yours. Your chest was desperate, rising up and falling down slowly, and Cillian couldn't look at you without wiping the satisfied smile off his face. 
He raised the candle holder, and you could feel the heat on your breasts, your nipples excited by the sensation. The flicker of the fire was reflected in his eyes, and your lips pressed firmly together. You stifled a whimper, but couldn't hold back the whining when the wax dripped onto your sensitive skin that had already been exhausted by him. "I want to hear you, don't hold back," his high-pitched voice with a serious expression, his lines well-defined from how focused he was, left you dazed, and you needed to grind against him strongly, causing both of you to grunt and release the air from your lungs. He was happy with this, happy that you were desperate and that he was causing you some pain.
Cillian lifted the candle again and watched the droplets of wax fall onto you, tracing a line from the center of your breasts to your lower belly. Compared to his, your face was angelic with each movement, the soft moans leaving your expression even more inviting as you felt small in front of him. Your stomach clenched, and your face displayed a mixture of pain along with soft, adorable moans that made him want to explode. His hands trembled, and he had to focus hard not to finish right then and there and be done with it.
"Fuck, pumpkin, you look so good," and you enjoyed how seeing you like this had that effect on him. Your eyes closed, and everything felt intensified; your hips involuntarily spasmed against his, but it was a futile act. He audibly laughed from time to time, sweet and mature yet perverse, as if to make it clear how satisfying this was for him, and it left you completely dizzy and longing for more. He peeled off some hardened wax from your skin, admiring the marks it had left, and after massaging the area for a while he allowed the liquid to accumulate as it burned, running his tongue over the area and sucking the skin to him.
Your nails dug into his shoulder with enough force to leave crescent moons, and he let go, his teeth clearly imprinted on your skin, your fervor only making him more determined. He ran his thumb over the spot that would later be darkened and poured the excess of wax into you. Your legs tightened around him, and your hands grasped the sheets, tears welling up in your eyes, and your whimpering was soft but pleading, not exactly knowing what plea was being conveyed through it all. "Fuck, Cill, fuck, fuck," you tried hard for some relief. He halted his movements, forcing your legs to stop and holding your arms down to the mattress. He was delicate yet firm, just as you needed. You had a safe word; he knew you were okay, you were just trying to get his attention.
The holder, with the candle still burning, was now beside the sheets next to you. "Look at me, babygirl." You swallowed hard, tears streaming down the sides of your face. "Let's be good and not knock over the candle," he said firmly and clearly, and you nodded in pure eagerness, watching his well-defined and prominent muscles due to the force with which he was holding you. He kissed your face, wiping away the salty dampness, then moved to your mouth, which you wisely captured in a somewhat desperate act. He pulled away slowly, a thin trail of saliva connecting you both and slowly fading away.
He chuckled, and with no more, held your jaw and used his thumb to make you open your lips for him, sealing them with his, and soon you felt the buildup in you, and with a fuller sigh, you swallowed his breath over the messy kisses, feeling somewhat comforted. He caressed your cheek with his fingers, studying you, and you stuck your teeth into them, still trying not to move too much and be good. It was obvious you were struggling with this task. "It's good, Cill, I don't mind." He continued with more kisses and wet bites on your body, tightly gripping the open bars of your shirt with a gentle yet firm grip, almost causing your back to lift slightly off the mattress in need of him. It wasn't hard to tell you were younger, just looking at your genuine eyes was enough, and the reminder of that, that it was wrong in a way, made him want more of it all.
"Stay still, or we won't get anywhere, pumpkin," he said, and indeed you had forgotten about the candle by your side. You couldn't and wouldn't let it fall. He still sensed your scent so prominently on you, a lingering blend of sweat from the night before. Dry droplets adorned your panties, and a damp spot in the center was visibly apparent; it was adorable in his eyes. He kissed the area, gently brushing his nose against it, and you let out a graceful sigh. And once again, he found himself immersed in the feeling of having you like this, a sensation that was exclusively his. No one else had the privilege.
Unable to hold back any longer, Cillian pushed the thin fabric down and traced his tongue through you. He was familiar with it, but each time he tasted you, it fueled him with more energy. He didn't need to go too deep; you were already sticky enough, and yet clearly sensitive, a delightful mess nonetheless. Cillian pushed your swollen lips up, reaching your intended spot, and he licked it avidly. You gasped, your fists clenching the sheets. He blew on the spot and sucked on it for his own pure pleasure; he loved how the smell and taste lingered vividly in his mind afterward. However, he knew neither of you could last much longer in this way, and it wasn't how he wanted to end things.
He tightened his fingers on your thighs, using more of you, already feeling his chin and cheeks sticky from you. Reluctantly, he withdrew, mesmerized by how your essence still overflowed his mouth as he swallowed deeply, seeking oxygen. Your whimpering turned more pleading and disapproving, and he understood; he felt the same way, sore and neglected, begging for any hint of relief.
"I'm being good, Cill." Your eyes were wide open as you pleaded your case. He nodded, wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and still licking them to avoid any waste. It only quickened your breathing, and he felt a twinge of pity.
"You are, babygirl, you're being wonderful." He massaged his fingertips into you, spreading the burning sensation. You wouldn't be able to stay still even if you wanted to.
"You're okay, right?" he asked, pushing his fingers in slowly and deftly to fill you, watching your eyes squeeze shut tightly and your back arching a little.
"I am. I'd tell you if I weren't," you sounded weak, with sweat glistening on your forehead. It wasn't a very convincing vision, but Cillian trusted that you'd speak up if something was wrong. He moved his fingers until you got accustomed to the feeling and relaxed, making sure you wouldn't have any trouble taking him after. But you were so wet that he knew you could handle him easily even without much stretching. He made a mental note to try that later.
He pulled his fingers away, his hand sticky and wet from the excess that had dribbled, his mind taken by you, all the positions, and possibilities.
"No waste, remember?" You recalled something he had told you. Soon, your hands were around his wrist, and he didn't hesitate to let you take his fingers into your mouth, enveloping them and sucking on your sweet flavor, your eyes closing as he savored the sensation only he could describe. Your touch of sweetness and genuineness taking him over completely.
"Enough," he declared, pulling them away from you, leaving you with sad, pleading eyes. You could easily be death of him if you wanted.
You felt a bit hazy, things moving fast but still light, and surprisingly comforting after just waking up. You couldn't say when or how, but as you shifted slightly in bed and your eyes met his, he had already managed to shed his shorts. He was pulsating; he wouldn't last much longer, and you could tell he had held back for quite some time until then.
"I love how you look," he chuckled, smugness evident. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed from the stress. His hair, with some strands of gray, fell over his face, and before you could brush it away, he held your arms again. You gasped, hesitating, and he forced your body onto the mattress, his weight and legs spreading yours apart. Lightly, he closed the gap between you, then settled inside you. As he had imagined, he slid in skillfully. Your head was thrown back, and you felt complete ecstasy just from finally having him after such a wait, even though it burned, and Cillian didn't feel much different.
His grunts were deep, and it made you even more flustered and messy for him. He rose, still dripping from your body, holding the candle holder. Even though he hadn't planned to tease since he was just as eager, he proceeded anyway. His hand rested on your waist, and without moving, he allowed you to ride him slowly with lazy thrusts to get what you wanted. You were shy, and your movements were as delicate as your body, adjusting to his as if you couldn't let him know. Soon he would be emptying himself inside you, deep, and that made him pant. In the meantime, he measured the droplets of wax over your belly and breasts, watching in awe as your body trembled from exhaustion.
Your moans were mostly breathless tones, and your mouth remained partially open. Your eyes never left him, of how his v-line joined yours as he filled you perfectly, until all the air left your lungs. He let a few drops fall on his own abdomen, grunting hoarsely at the warmth of him, and he smiled sweetly as your hips stopped their motion, and you focused solely on watching him.
Cillian paused, gently placing the candle holder back on the nightstand, and he tenderly turned you over onto your belly on the bed. You complied with grace, leaning forward to be closer to him, not holding back your affection. He cradled you, running his fingers through your hair, and his body welcomed yours against his chest. With utmost care, he joined with you, moving deep and fervently, his movements filled with passion, turning your whimpers into soft moans of pleasure.
The sight of you brought him immense joy, and he cherished the intimacy you shared. He was overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for you, and he wanted nothing more than to fill you up warmly. He knew he had to be gentle, to ensure your comfort, and to respect your boundaries. Even more knowing you weren't used to that.
With each tender touch, he felt the connection between you both, savoring the moments of ecstasy that flowed between your bodies. He marveled at the depth of your trust in him, and he felt an overwhelming desire for more and more of you.
As he continued, he held you close, your hands seeking his to anchor you in the intensity of the experience. The room was filled with the sweet sounds of your pleasure, and he was enthralled by the way your body responded to his touch.
He adored every moment, every caress, and every gasp that escaped your lips. As your passion reached its peak, he held you tightly, ensuring you felt safe and into his arms. Your shared climax made him dizzy, leaving you both breathless and content.
Afterwards, he stroked your back, waist, and shoulders, reveling in the intimacy you had just shared. He admired the marks and traces left on your body.
"I treasure every moment with you," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration and a strong accent.
You smiled softly, feeling the warmth of him envelop you. His presence brought you comfort and peace, and you knew that you were deeply his.
With a caring touch, he wiped away the traces of passion from your lips, and you savored the lingering taste of him on your tongue.  You nestled even closer to him, and he let you, holding you tighter. You could still feel him oozing between your legs, the liquid turning cold, tingling a little from the soreness, but it felt great. You knew he would treat you like precious pearls, bathing you and leaving you clean before you went to sleep, and that was comforting.
"I'd never let a single drop go to waste," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. Your eyes are genuine and serene as you watch him, as if you really had no dimension to it. And then, you got filled into his solemn and comforting laughter at your fragile soul causing a pleasant vibration in your body.
...
His eyes opened as if breaking free from a suffocating hold, his head emerging above water, and oxygen flooding back into his lungs. Nevertheless, he remained still, feeling a warm weight on his shoulder and his pants suddenly tighter and less comfortable. Slowly, awareness seeped into his brain, and he became conscious of his surroundings. He felt a sense of worry, unable to move even if he wanted to. Gently, he brushed aside strands of hair from your face without touching your skin, observing how peacefully you rested against him, completely oblivious to his internal turmoil when it came to you.
He gazed at the ceiling, still wrapped in the comfort of your body's warmth against his own. Despite his mind being entangled with images of you, with your hand between your thighs and your cheek pressed against his shoulder, your lips slightly parted and looking so delicate and untouched, he couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes directly anymore. The once sweet thoughts now mingled with wilder and more fervent desires, a concoction of heated emotions that overwhelmed him. He felt like he wouldn't be able to endure all of it until the end. He already felt completely entangled and trapped.
As he lay there, he found himself torn between the conflicting emotions that had taken hold of him. The intensity of his feelings for you had reached a point where he couldn't contain them any longer. It was as if everything had shifted, and what was once a tender connection now burned with a passionate fire. He did desire you and that horrible way, but he had also fallen for you, and it frightened him.
The realization that he had developed such strong emotions for someone so close and yet so out of reach weighed heavily on him. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out, or worse, if he acted on those impulses. He wished he could go back to the simpler times, when he could bask in the innocence of your presence. But it was too late. He had crossed a threshold, and there was no turning back. The feelings were there, tangible and consuming.
On top of it all, the candles still exuded essence as they burned hot and bright before his field of vision.
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