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#every so often when that circle comes around
traumasurvivors · 19 hours
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I often see messages about how “one day you’ll be thankful you didn’t give up”.
And I remember reading these messages years ago and dismissing them. I’d even feel bitter at them. I’d feel annoyed even. I thought there was never a chance they would be true for me.
I was wrong. I constantly feel so glad I stuck around.
This morning, I laid next to my husband and felt safe in his arms. And I thought about how glad I was to be here with him. I’d have never met him if I hadn’t tried to recover.
While writing this post, my dog stretched in the bed before circling and plopping herself back down. Her head pushed into my side, snoring so quickly. And I was so thankful to be around to hear her little snores and feel her next to me. I’d have never had her if I hadn’t done the work to heal.
Yesterday, my best friend and I made plans to see each other. She told me she loved me. It made me feel warm inside and so thankful I was around to see her get married and have her at my wedding.
I enjoy the little things now. I enjoy the way my husband always gives me a forehead kiss before he leaves. I enjoy the way my dog comes running when she hears me go lay on the bed because she wants to be with me. I enjoy the tea I have every day, being able to be outside in the sun. I enjoy excitedly waiting for music from my favourite artists to drop.
All these things I’d never enjoy if I gave up.
I am thankful I stuck around. I am thankful I didn’t give up.
And I hope that if you aren’t, that one day you are too.
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seredelgi · 3 days
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How do they take you? / AOT x fem!reader
featuring: Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirstein, Connie Springer, Reiner Braun, Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman
tw: smut, sex, explicit sex, kissing, teasing, mild bondage, orgasms, oral sex, fem! receiving, mild dom/sub, praising, 18+
There’s nothing that Eren enjoys more in life than taking you doggy style. He loves the perfect view of your ass slapping back to meet his hips with every thrust he grants you. He seriously can't get enough of how your delicious sobs of pleasure fill his room as he reaches that sweet spot that makes you blab his name incoherently. He likes to pull your hair back to kiss your neck and suck on it, blowing out dirty praises on its feverish skin.
Armin loves to see you ride his dick from behind. It’s just a view he never gets tired of, the one of your ass teasingly shaping circles on his lap and sensually leading him into a euphoric state of arousal. When you get closer to your orgasm and your movements become sloppier, he comes to rest his hands on your hips, guiding you steadily into him, knowing by heart the right amount of pressure you need, making you roll your eyes and surrender to his touch.
Sex with Jean usually escalates from cuddling with him, most often in a spooning position. It’s sweet and growing in intensity as his hand slips past the fabric of your oversized t-shirt and looks for your breasts. He plays with them, kissing your neck passionately while he drives into you from behind. He’s panting in between the strands of your hair as you feel him sinking deep into you, your wet heat clenching around his pulsing shaft with every smack of your ass against his pelvis. When he comes it’s usually with a strangled moan, and as you shiver you can feel every last spring of his warm seed filling you up.
Connie takes you wherever he feels like it, and he feels like it frequently. Lately, he’s grown fond of doing it while holding you up against a wall. You thought it would be hard for him to keep you up for that long- since he usually likes to take his time, but he’s proven to be surprisingly strong. It shows in the effortless pace he keeps, burying himself into you and hissing quietly about how wet you are for him, how hot and tight. It just drives you wild in a way that brings heat to your cheeks. A thin line of drool streams down your chin with the amount of pleasure this particular position arises in you, and he loves seeing you like this: your legs trembling against his hips, your lips mumbling his name as he brings you over the edge.
Reiner loves to restrict you. Whether with blindfolds or handcuffs, you don’t care, you love it, too. It’s so thrilling, the feeling of giving up control, of never knowing what to expect, or when to expect it. And as per usual, he takes his sweet time with you, teasing you endlessly with his hands and lips, with his tongue even, circling it skillfully around your already swollen clit, then driving it into your wetness to taste your juices. It takes a while before he finally sinks into you with his dick, and he usually does so while kissing you sloppily. He tastes like you.
You love straddling Erwin’s lap when he sits on the chair of his office after a hard day. You can’t help smiling as he stares in awe at the way his shaft disappears into your wet cunt, the sound of you milking him one that has no comparison. You thrust into him with a desperate demand for release, so needy that he often has to slow you down with sweet kisses and quiet praises of how beautiful you look taking him like that. He likes to pin your wrists behind your back and guide your movements with caution, delighting in the way you wiggle and beg for him to just let you come and ruin you instead.
Any position is fine by Levi, but he has a weakness for those that have you facing him while he’s on top. Doesn’t matter where. Whether in bed, on the floor, or on the kitchen counter it’s not important. He just loves to have you spread beneath him, and mostly, to have easy access to your neck at all times. He burns for the way you moan shamelessly when he kisses it and closes his hand around it, for the way you gasp and clench around him as he rails into you mercilessly. His hold remains firm around your throat as the sound of your juices mixing and the ones of his pants fill your ears and lead you into ecstasy.
So what about the way they kiss you?
How do they take compliments, then?
What gets them going?
What's their love language?
Do they get jealous?
And what pet names do they use the most?
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hazbinhotelie · 2 days
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Hi! I've just read through your whole blog and I love your writing!
Could I make a personal request of Alastor x reader of how Alastor would react to reader being sick? More specifically symptoms include dizziness, shortness of breath, chest pain, heart palpitations, and overall fatigue which often gives the impression of being about to faint or die.
How would Alastor take care of the person? What would he do in that situation?
Bonus points if you could include a scene where the reader wants a dance with Alastor but is physically too weak/breathless to actually dance, I'll let you think of what Al would do then
Thank you in advance, I really need the comfort right now 😊🥰 (and before you worry, everything is being taken care of from a medical standpoint, I just need something cosy and comforting)
I. Look,,,,
I tried
I think that’s what matters here.
I also didn’t proof read. Sorry
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I never expected to fall ill in Hell, of all places. The symptoms came out of nowhere—dizziness, shortness of breath, chest pain, heart palpitations, and an overwhelming fatigue that made it hard to even sit up straight. Alastor noticed immediately.
“Dear, you’re looking quite pale. Are you feeling alright?” His voice carried a mix of genuine concern and curiosity.
I nodded weakly, but my body betrayed me. The world around me swayed, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Alastor was at my side in an instant, his usual jaunty grin replaced by a more serious expression.
“Let’s get you comfortable,” he said, helping me to the nearest sofa. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he eased me down onto the cushions. “You need rest. I’ll take care of you.”
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. The room spun less when I wasn’t looking at it. Alastor’s presence was a strange comfort. I felt the cool touch of a damp cloth on my forehead and opened my eyes to see him dabbing away the sweat that had formed.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
I continued to lay on the sofa, bitter at the fact I couldn’t snuggle with him right now. My breaths were coming in shallow gasps, every heartbeat a painful reminder of my fragile state. The dizziness made everything around me blur into indistinct shapes, and the fatigue was so overwhelming it felt like I was sinking into the cushions. Alastor’s keen eyes never left me, his usual jovial mask replaced by a look concern.
“You need to take it easy, dear,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. He placed a cool cloth on my forehead again- a different one, to replace the last. The sensation soothing against my burning skin. “We can’t have you dying on us, now can we?”
Despite my discomfort, I managed a small smile. “I don’t plan on going anywhere,” I whispered, my voice weak.
He leaned closer, his face inches from mine, eyes searching. “Good. I’d miss you terribly if you did.” His words, though spoken lightly, carried a weight that made my heart flutter.
Alastor’s presence was oddly reassuring. He was a constant, an anchor in the aching pain from whatever illness I’d picked up. He moved around the room with his usual grace, fetching water and blankets, adjusting the pillows to ensure I was as comfortable as possible. When the dizziness became too much, he held my hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin.
“Here, drink this,” he said, holding a glass of water to my lips. I sipped slowly, the cool liquid easing my parched throat.
“Thank you,” I murmured, closing my eyes again. “You’re being so kind.”
A soft chuckle escaped him. “Even I have my moments of benevolence, my dear. Besides, I find your company... most agreeable.”
Time seemed to blur as I drifted in and out of sleep, Alastor’s constant care a comforting presence. He hummed softly, a tune that seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket. Occasionally, he would read aloud from one of his old books, his rich voice a soothing balm to my aching head.
“Do you remember when we first met?” he asked one evening, as he adjusted the blanket over me. “You were so full of fire and defiance. I knew then that you were something special.”
I smiled faintly. “And you were... intimidating. But intriguing.”
He laughed, a genuine sound that made my heart lift. “Intimidating? I suppose I do have that effect on people.”
The days passed in a comforting routine. Alastor was always there, attentive and caring. One evening, as I lay watching the shadows dance on the ceiling (he’d put them there to entertain me, since I couldn’t do much) I felt a sudden longing. “Alastor,” I called softly.
He was by my side in an instant. “Yes, dear?”
“Would you... would you dance with me?”
He looked at me, surprised. “Dance? In your condition?”
I nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’ve always wanted to dance with you.”
Alastor’s expression softened, and he placed a hand over mine. “I think that might be a bit too strenuous for you at the moment. But...” He hesitated for a moment, then smiled gently. “If that’s what you wish.” He helped me to my feet, supporting my weight easily. His touch was firm yet gentle, his arm around my waist as he held my hand in his.
We swayed slowly, a mockery of a real dance but beautiful in its own way. I leaned into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest. The dizziness was still there, but his presence made it bearable.
“You’re doing wonderfully,” he whispered, his lips close to my ear. “How about we go back to resting now?”
“Just a little longer,” I mumbled. He sighed, but relented and we continued for another few moments. “Thank you,” I said softly, leaning into him more than before, having trouble keeping myself up.
He smiled, a genuine smile that I rarely saw. “Anything for you, my dear. Now, let’s get you back to the sofa. You need your strength.”
As he helped me back to the sofa, I felt a warm fuzzy feeling in my chest.. Despite his usual antics and eerie demeanor, he showed me a side of him that was capable of deep care and affection.
“That’s it, just relax…” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”
I held his hand, squeezing it weakly. “Thank you, Alastor. For everything.”
His smile was warm, eyes soft as he looked at me. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Now sleep, and know that I’m here.”
And with that, I closed my eyes, letting the comfort of his presence lull me into a much-needed sleep.
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xileonaaaa · 3 days
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Hii I loved the way you characterised Choso in ur last fic. Mind doing husband headcannons? Or nsfw headcannons if you allow it? 💖 thank you 💖💖
Hiiii, I would love to! Thank you for being my very first ask 💕. Instead of him starting off as your husband, I went with the longer approach. Hope you enjoy!
Thinking of Husband!Choso
He’s still his same old self, but now he has that much needed confidence boost, because you are his, and he is yours.
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.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊
Hubby!Choso who didn’t even know that he would soon take on the role of being your husband.
Hubby!Choso who acted like your husband before he even got the official title. He’d do things for you that most normal boyfriends just wouldn’t do on an everyday basis. For example, waking up at the crack of dawn every morning just to make you breakfast, or coming home early just so he could cook your favorite meal for you. (It’s not like he did those things only on special occasions, no he did them every. single. day.)
Hubby!Choso who literally looked at you sideways when you told him that he might as well just become your husband after breakfast one morning. (He didn’t quite understand your logic, because to him, he was treating you the best he could, because he knew you deserved nothing but the best.)
Hubby!Choso who couldn’t seem to shake the thought of what marriage to you would be like. (He often thought about how you’d look walking down that aisle, with your beautiful dress flowing behind you, as you smiled at him, while he tried his best to hold back tears of joy.)
Hubby!Choso who wondered if he was really worthy of being by your side indefinitely. A half human such as himself?
Hubby!Choso who let his thoughts continue to fester, till the point where he began to literally see signs everywhere he went. For example, nightly trips to the grocery store while you were still at the school, suddenly turned into a sea of married couples, swooning over each other, and flashing their matching rings. Some couples even had children in the front sections of their carts, and Choso couldn’t help but wonder what that would be like to experience.
Hubby!Choso who realized that marriage life wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. He found that right as he was about to make his decision on whether or not to propose to you, he started seeing the more sour side of marriage. Affairs behind the partners back, relationships just somehow burning out, fights, you name it, and he’d most definitely seen it somewhere.
Hubby!Choso who laid off the idea of proposing for a while. He wasn’t sure if he was being selfish for wanting more from you, for wanting to call you his wife. (The thought of you being referred to as ‘his wife’ made him go out one evening to purchase a ring, because why not? He could just call you his wife in his head, because it wasn’t like he was going to slip that ring onto your pretty finger any time soon right?….right???) Wrong.
Hubby!Choso who then began to see this warm aura surrounding you, quite literally making you glow, and shine in every little thing you did. Sometimes, your little glow would be so mesmerizing, he’d stop whatever it was he was doing to just quietly stare at you. It was times like these he’d slip a hand into his pocket, and twirl the ring he’d bought for you, around in his fingers.
Hubby!Choso who spent alot of time thinking, and planning about seriously proposing to you. (His little fantasy wasn’t exactly doing it for him anymore.)
Hubby!Choso who spent so much time thinking, that he didn’t even notice he was causing you to worry, until you spoke up one night, after dinner.
Hubby!Choso who felt his eyes widen as you poured your heart out him, questioning him on his very odd, and standoffish behavior. He didn’t think he was acting any differently. (He was.)
Hubby!Choso who couldn’t help but try to explain himself without giving away the fact that he was seriously going to propose to you very soon.
Hubby!Choso who started going in circles, ranging from one excuse to another. He couldn’t lie to you, he just physically couldn’t. So when he saw your expression starting to turn into that of hurt, he took a deep breath and got down on one knee. (He wanted his proposal to be more extravagant but as unplanned, and unorganized as this was, he genuinely couldn’t wait to call you his anymore.)
Hubby!Choso who noticed the very abrupt change in your facial expression the minute he took a delicate hold of your right hand, massaging your fingers with his own while he gently smiled up at you.
Hubby!Choso who proceeded to explain the reason behind his very strange behavior, and how your one sentence about marriage had led him down a rabbit hole.
Hubby!Choso who had watched over a dozen marriage proposal videos, still found himself fumbling for the right words.
Hubby!Choso who couldn’t help but feel his stomach twist and turn into knots as he told you in the softest voice he could muster, just how good, and comfortable you made him feel.
Hubby!Choso who never once looked away from your gaze when he asked you if you would marry him. He found himself smiling ever so softly as he listened to your excited squeals of happiness, as you enthusiastically nodded your head yes.
Hubby!Choso who slipped his free hand into his pocket to pull out the beautiful pink ring that he’d held onto for past two months, before easing it onto your ring finger. He was so happy, he could’ve died and went to heaven right there and then.
Hubby!Choso who would’ve panicked had you not assured him that those were happy tears trailing down your cheeks. Regardless, he still stood up, and took the initiative to kiss away those tears, before pulling you into a loving hug, somehow hoping that you wouldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating against his rib cage.
NSFW:
Hubby!Choso who loved to listen you ramble about wedding preparations. He began to notice that if you ever had to leave a name for a company to call you back, you'd call yourself "Ms. Kamo." and boy did that serve to rile him up.
Hubby!Choso who just couldn't seem to keep his lips off of yours. His self control seemingly leaving his body whenever he saw your form emerge from the bedroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts, and your wedding ring.
Hubby!Choso who was nothing like your previous partners, who were always impatient and rough with you, he was unbearibly soft in bed. Once he'd gotten the hang of all of your weak spots, he made sure you felt like you were on cloud 9, without serving to bruise your guts. It was a win-win honestly, he could watch you come undone underneath him, over and over and over again, all while cherishing your body as much as he wanted to.
Hubby!Choso who used to be an avid condom user, nowadays plunged in raw, always wanting to feel your warm walls clenching around him while he fucked you into your shared matress.
Hubby!Choso who was, and still is the absolute king of aftercare. You'd always try your hardest to keep your eyes open while he cleaned you up, just so you could tease him about the time he literally called 911 because he'd fucked you so good, you'd fallen asleep. (He thought he put you in a coma.)
Hubby!Choso who never shyed away from the opportunity to tell you all the cheesy compliments that his brain would come up with, while he cockwarmed inside you.
Hubby!Choso who never really gave you any hickeys unless you asked for them. The last thing he wanted was you experiencing any discomfort from them, or worse case scenario, you coming home saying that one of your students pointed it out. He loves when you mark him up though.
Hubby!Choso who is definietly open to having kids. He often thinks of names when the two of your are winding down for the night, tangled in each others legs, with his face buried in your plush chest.
Hubby!Choso who thinks that this is the closest to heaven he'll ever get.
Hubby!Choso who loves his wife with all of his cursed heart.
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zombiesturniolo · 1 day
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Ink
part 1
Chris Sturniolo x Female Reader series
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Tattoo Artist!Chris Sturniolo x Tattoo Artist!Fem!Reader
Warnings !! : Fingering, p in v, praising, pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), drinking, i dont really know what else so lmk if i missed something
Summary : You and Chris had been working together as tattoo artists for quite some time now, probably about 2 years. You've always had a little bit of feelings for him in the back of your head, but you've convinced yourself that the feelings aren't real. Though, you can't help but feel jealous as Chris always flirts with every single one of his clients.
Authors note : Sorry for not posting 😭 anyways, if anyone likes this then ill probably write another part !! enjoy :3
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You currently sat in your room, bored out of your mind. You scroll on your phone, trying to find something to do. Your attention is caught as you see a new text message from Chris appear at the top of your screen. "Hey, I'm about to head out to a party. You wanna come?" It reads. Chris would often invite you to come with him to parties, though you rarely said yes due to being busy. However, right now, you had nothing to do.
You smiled as you sent him a text agreeing to go with him. You sat up, walking to your closet and picking out an outfit. You tried your best to get ready quickly, swiftly applying your make up. Once you're finished, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror before heading out.
You arrive at the party, walking in, looking around for Chris. You eventually find him, in the kitchen, a red plastic cup sat in his hands. His eyes light up a little as he sees you, "Hey loser." He says, smiling slightly. You roll your eyes at him playfully before responding. "Hey dummy. Are you having fun?" You ask him, pouring yourself a drink. You stand next to him, taking a sip of your drink. Chris shrugs dully, "Yeah, I guess. The party's alright. Kinda boring, maybe it'll be funner now that you're here." Chris takes a sip of his drink, looking at you, smiling. "Maybe," You mumble in a quiet tone, looking at him.
You and Chris just talked for a bit, you guys seated on a couch in the living room. You're rambling about whatever, that's when you feel Chris shift his hand to your thigh. You slightly freeze, shutting up quickly. You don't know if he did that on accident, or on purpose. Either way, you could feel yourself growing more flushed. You stare at Chris, having nothing more to say.
You watch as his other hand moves to your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. "You know, I've always though that you were so pretty." He states in a gentle but flirty tone. You only feel the blush on your face spread. "R..really?" You mumble out in a slightly stunned tone. He nods a little, before pulling your face closer to his.
You and Chris' lips meet, your hand moving to his jaw as he kisses you. The kiss grows more passionate over time, and one thing leads to another. Now you're in a random bedroom with him, on the bed, with him on top of you. He kisses down your neck, his fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt. Chris looks up at you for approval, in which you nod back. He takes your shirt off, admiring your body for a minute, before going back to kissing your neck.
Your hand runs through his messy hair, you let out a low groan. He kisses back up to your lips, before pulling away again to take his own shirt off. You grab at his belt desperately, which causes him to pull away, looking into your pleading eyes. "You're really that desperate for me, huh?" He says in a teasing tone, before pulling off his belt.
You take off your own pair of jeans you had on, watching as he takes off his own. He gets back on top of you, kissing your neck again. He pulls your underwear to the side, pulling away from your neck and watching you as he starts to rub light circles on your clit. He smirks as he feels how wet you are. He hears you whimper, applying more pressure to his touch. He slips a finger into you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. After a bit, he slips another finger into your entrance. "There you go, princess. Gotta get you ready for me." He says, still smirking as he listens to your whimpers.
You let out a whine as he removes his fingers from your core, watching as he gets up and takes his boxers off. You swallow, his tip leaking with precum. He gets back on top of you, placing a light kiss on your lips. He slowly pushes himself into you, letting out a low whimper at the feeling. He strokes your cheek gently as he steadily moves his length into you. "It's okay, sweetheart..." He whispers in a soft tone.
Chris gently kissing your neck once it's fully in, "There you go... good girl..." He groans, continuing to kiss your neck as he thrusts slowly. You let out a moan, in which he places a warm hand over your mouth. "Shh baby... there's a lot of people here..." He whispers to you, causing you a nod and whimper against his hand.
His thrusts grow faster as he continues, trying to keep his own moans down as well. It's not long until you feel yourself grow closer to finishing. Chris feels your walls tighten against him, sensing that your close. He picks his pace up, trying to get you closer to releasing. You let out a loud moan against his hand as you feel the knot in your stomach break. He doesn't finish much longer after you do, burying his head in your neck to muffle his whimpers. He pulls out of you, before laying down next to you. "I've wanted to do that for so long, princess." He says in a breathless tone, watching as you let out heavy breaths.
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2.3k words- wanderer comes with you on a job. things are likely to go up in smoke.
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"this. was such a stupid idea." wanderer hisses from his spot beside you. back pushed against a well-aged stone wall, his hat in his hands since the obscenely round headwear makes hiding behind a wall a very convoluted endeavor.
you, who was standing nearest to the corner of the wall, peaking around it every so often swiveled your chin towards him and brought your finger up to your mouth to harshly shush him.
"i didn't ask for you to come. you invited yourself!" you hiss quietly back at him. the veins in his forehead from your return fire felt like they were around to fry and malfunction.
"no," he rebuttals, "buer insisted." which was... half true.
nahida had caught wind of a very interesting commission posted on behalf of the adventurers' guild on treasure street. something involving old books or scripts and she took a liking to it. 'you already know all of whatever's in those dusty tomes,' he had told her. still, nothing beat recovering the physical wisdom she already had so she could hold it in her small hands and fawn over it... so she claims. that's why he was here in the first place.
going along with whoever decided to take on the job beat out over having to endure her pressing gaze that lit his back on fire. the problem was that you were the one who took the commission.
while he tolerated your presence and didn't dislike you being around or yapping even if he was in a sour mood, when you were working out on the field- even he knew you were a reckless lost cause. did you bring results? yes. but you always found the most ludicrous ways to get there. if he took his eyes off you for a second, who knows what trouble you'd get yourself into.
presently, you and he had successfully snuck into the hideout of which the lost books were rumored to be. an old stone building that once stood as a small manor. the books were rumored to be in the last remaining tower on the east side of the main building; or so says the suspiciously detailed commission. of course, this hideout wasn't without its squatters. treasure hoarders infested the place like worker bees in a hive.
you both had gotten lucky so far. reckless as you are, he was half convinced you'd storm the place, guns blazing and just bull doze yourself all the way through.
as for what was going on around the corner, you were currently listening for the small group of treasure hoarders to pass by; or you would be if your hat wearing companion would stop nagging. shushing him between your teeth once more, you swirl your head away from him. annoyance bit at the back of his neck, still he obliged you by staying silent. one of his feet propped up against the wall behind him as he idled.
the chatter between the men you were both sneaking around faded into a murmur as he watched the back of your head from the corn of his eyes. the adventure's uniform was always tacky to him. apparently you thought so do, if all the changes you've made to yours was anything to go by.
"okay," you whisper. wanderer kicks himself off the wall before placing his hat back on his head with practiced grace. "coast is clear, let's go before someone else comes back around." as you take off around the corner his eyes roll before he's chasing after you.
for all his moaning, the previous nomad had no reason to doubt your skills. you were good as what you did. it was just always more trouble than it's worth sometimes.
with the same tactic of wait, listen, dash and repeat, you both managed to get to the tower and pushed past an old, domed wood door. the spiral of stone steps leading higher into the tower was so visibly unsafe, one wrong step on the wrong piece of rock would send a typical person tumbling all the way back down. of course, if that did happen, wanderer would just latch onto your collar and fly you the rest of the way up by your fabric scruff.
after an annoyingly long trip up in upward circles, you come to another door identical to the one at the bottom. wooden, domed and built with iron latches. twisting the handle and releasing the latch, the door opened, and the scent of dust hit your nose.
you step into the old room that looked like a small library once a upon a time and waved your hand in front of your face to stave off all the dust in the air. you coughed on it as wanderer watched you with crossed arms.
"you're so dramatic," he sassily told you before walking further into the library. a perk of not needing to breath was not caring about dust apparently. your lungs were currently envious of his mechanical innards.
"oh... shu-t up-" you choked, following after him.
the library itself wasn't grand. it was obviously old. cobwebs on the ceilings and in all corners, layers of dust that could easily create a thick quilt if it was all gathered in one place. the room of shelves held so many books draped in peeling covers and age-damage. still, somewhere among them was the books you needed to find.
it took a long time, longer than you wished, and more battles between dust clouds, spiders, and cobwebs that you care to admit, but you had finally found what you were looking for. placing any loose pieces of paper into your satchel on your hip, you take the book and wrap it up in cloth before also tucking it away.
"i think that just about does it." you say, latching your satchel up securely. "let's get out of here before-"
the sound of echoed, rushed footsteps stomping their way up the stairs behind the cracked door of the library interrupted you. spinning around, you faced the door as wanderer clicked his tongue.
"you just had to go and say something dumb."
"why are you blaming me?!" you screech.
"there's someone up here alright!"
one of the owners of the rushing feet shouted. wanderer's glare towards you made you look away quickly with sweat running down your cheek. you were guilty of nothing that he can prove. he stomped over to you and pulled on that cheek, his fingers pinching the flesh as his insides whirled in irritation. "you loudmouth!" through your squinted eyes did you see steam puffing from his mouth?
the cracked door blew open and behind it came rushing in three treasure hoarders. a knife thrower, a burly man with a shovel, and an excentric looking fellow in a red overcoat. 'oh great,' you think.
wanderer releases your cheek as the three men rush in. he grabs your arm and shoves you away from him and kicks starts your legs for you. you duck between the bookshelves as they give chase. the knife throwing man tries his luck, his projectiles lodging into the bookcase just as you find safety behind it. skidding to a swift turn, you counter with your own throwing skills- although with a stray rock on the floor inside of a knife.
a satisfied thunk sounded among the scuffle as the rock struck him on the head and he soon followed it to the floor. he deserves the headache he'll wake up with. your small victory was short as you yelp when the burly man with a shovel swings it and you just barely managed to duck under the woosh of its motion. rolling away from him you run, leading him towards a bookshelf you noticed was unstable earlier. once he was in place, you shoved the shelf with your shoulder, toppling it over the man.
books pelt him before the wooden encasement pins him to the floor. it was just heavy enough to keep him down long enough for an escape. stepping on the fallen shelf, you hear the treasure hoarder groan at your added weight on his back before you were rushing around the library back to the front.
"hey, [wanderer]! we've really gotta go!" you stood still in the library and wonder where the third guy had ran off to. he was the one you were most worried around. the last thing you needed was a molotov being thrown at you. "[wand]-" your second shout was cut off by a blast of wind swishing at your side. once the wind blew past, the sound of shattering glass echoed in the once tidy- but dusty- library. followed by a plume of fire.
"stop shouting! you're just giving yourself away!" you found wanderer at your back the moment you recovered from the sudden burst of air. there was a rumble in the floor caused by his vision as a blast of air sprang up from below the third attacker's feet. it violently burst from below, lifting him off his feet and onto his back.
three knocked down treasure hoarders. nice.
soon, the stairwell begin to fill with more noise. more shouting and stomping just like earlier. as you look over wanderer's shoulder, your voice chokes at the remnants of the flame-fueled molotov he had blasted away from your earlier. this library was the best fire starter in the books! dust, paper, wood. it checks all the boxes. and now you'd have to deal with more treasure hoarders.
"oh, come on!" you groan. wanderer looks behind his shoulder at you. he wonders if you realize that you've grabbed onto his arm or how close your nose was to his cheek at this angle. he clicks his tongue again before looking behind your head.
with his vision against his chest, he lifted his free arm, flinging a slice of air through a small window. the glass shatters, falls outside to the ground and the open air invisibly floods the room. it only adds to fan the flames that were now beginning to eagerly eat anything around it to grow.
moving, and dragging your wrist with him, he jumps up onto a nearby desk just under the now empty window frame.
"don't bite your tongue," he tells you. you look at him like he's nuts before he's shoving you out the window back first. shoving his palms against the front of your shoulders. your arms flail before the view of the library and wanderer, spin and flip to the outside stone of the tower and then the sky. there's a second of skirmishing noise before the sound of wind deafens you.
wanderer is quick to fly out of the window after you. diving down in the air, he swoops his arm under your stomach, securing you to his side. your body folds inwardly due to be stopped at free fall and wanderer takes a full few seconds of levitation before blasting off away from the scene.
"are you crazy?! why did you do that?!" you complain. rightfully so.
"did you want to stay and get burnt to a crisp?!" how he found the audacity to argue with you, you don't know. "we got what we needed anyway!"
"how about a little warning next time?!"
"stop shouting! you'll bite your tongue! don't you listen!"
"I have to shout so you hear me!"
the way he is holding you was backward; your legs were at his front with your arms clutching onto the flapping fabric that dangled on his person. clinging onto him, you watch the tower disappear behind the clearly strategic retreat. observing as smoke begins billowing up in the sky and you wonder if you'd have to include 'the result of the job was a massive fire' in your commission report.
it would break poor nahida's heart to know that so many books were lost to a reckless treasure hoarder who though a fire molotov in an old library was a good idea.
when you finally return to sumeru city and write up your report, your prompt in delivering it to katheryn. you glance over to the puppet who still hadn't dismissed himself back to the sanctuary of surasthana to do his own report back to the dendro archon herself with questioning eyes. was part of his task also to wait until you had submitted a report? what was keeping him?
walking over to his side, you dig the book out of your satchel along with the pieces of loose parchment. you offer them to him.
"do you need to take these back to lesser lord kusanali?" his arms remain crossed along his chest and he makes no move to uncross them to take your items. your chin juts up a fraction as if to tell him 'are you going to take these or?'
without so much as a word, he spins his back towards you. you're about to give him a piece of your mind, when he talks. "give them to her yourself." starting off, he walks further up treasures street, and you were left there flabbergasted. was he going to make you finish this job alone? "are you coming or not?" his voice called from up the slopped roads. he was waiting for you.
'guess he isn't.'
you jog to catch up to him, book clutched to your chest, and he waits until you were beside him to start walking again. just before he moved to open the door to the sanctuary, you stopped him.
"thanks for helping me out earlier." he turned to look at you quizzically. "you know? for deflecting that flaming bottle? it would've sucked if it caught the job items on fire."
"it wasn't a big deal." he turns away again.
"i also appreciate that you didn't let me get hurt."
there was a silence. then, "you're welcome." it was a genuine statement. not a hint of sass. it made you feel pretty proud. "come on." he told you before he's walking inside with you in tow, but not before opening the door for you.
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nahida was pleased at the newfound items she could safely store away after thoroughly studying them. but when you informed her that the rest of the library you ventured to in search of those items went up in smoke? lesser lord kusanali wasn't the happiest archon in teyvat about that.
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a/n: you'll never guess which scene i rly wrote all this for was- also yes i put [wander] in brackets when reader was speaking bc he's obvious named differently, so its more or less a name placeholder lol
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transmutationisms · 3 days
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are you familiar with agamben / his ideas on bare life/homo sacer? i found it a compelling extension of a biopolitical analysis but he's a weird conspiratorial antivaxx adj guy now and i worry that the roots of this position run deeper in his analysis than i would like to believe
so i think a perennial spectre haunting a lot of academic analysis of biopolitics is a particular form of individualism that tends away from class analysis and toward right-libertarianism. i've said before wrt foucault that i have this problem, particularly where he tries to envision a political alternative or liberatory project (as opposed to just analysing / problematising the existing situation as he saw it). it's not that he's wrong per se when he talks about the 'massifying' effect of modern national politics and sovereign power. but, if the analysis over-privileges this distinction between individual vs [state / professional guild / institution] and doesn't investigate the relationship between the subjection of the individual and the subjection of the labouring class, then we end up with a politics that tends almost populist at points, and certainly tends liberal because it's unable to conceive of liberation as a project requiring class solidarity and action. this sort of writing is often appealing to western universities and academics for what i think are obvious reasons.
agamben is not someone whose career i have closely followed but what i've observed from a distance is a conception of biopolitics marked by the above issues and therefore pretty limited at the outset in its ability to do more than advance a negative (deconstructive) critique (which is not a bad form of critique by any means but is not, on its own, a political platform or call to action). plus i think, for someone who pays lip service to aristotle as much as he does, agamben is not very attentive to the valuation of human 'flourishing' or well-being or whatever you want to call it—instead the emphasis is almost always on (ironically) a pretty bare definition of liberty, a freedom-from forces of the state or institution or even the social body writ large, conceived as a kind of mob. in this framework (again, more than incidentally libertarian), you can see how things like mandatory vaccination or pandemic 'lockdowns' are prima facie bad. they are repressive, in the sense that they constrain individuals. the guiding axioms in the paradigm foreclose questions about what social living should protect or produce, and what an individual owes to their fellows and can expect in return. the position is that maximising individual freedom of choice is always better, and considerations like, yknow, not killing disabled people are simply not weighed the same.
in general this also comes back down to the point that it's not terribly useful to talk about biopolitics outside the context of a critique of capitalism. i think this critique was sometimes implicit in foucault's writing (& much of the biopolitics writing we have is lecture transcripts!) and is sometimes dropped entirely or avoided in certain academic circles. agamben is of course correct that the reason states 'locked down' when covid appeared was because they were trying to protect their biological capital—their workforces, militaries, and so on. he's correct that states do things like mandate vaccination for the same reason. like, we should be clear-eyed about this and not pretend that capitalist states are doing some kind of humanitarianism in any of their public health endeavours. that's not what those departments exist for and never has been. however, it doesn't follow that every action a capitalist state takes in the name of public health is in itself bad or useless, and if we form our politics around a reflexive oppositional impulse and a lack of class analysis then we end up saying shit like that the problem with vaccine mandates is the vaccines and not the character of the power doing the mandating.
i think this is an important distinction in general but especially germane to discussions of things like medicine. your doctor who exists in a system inextricably bound up with capitalist state power and its biopolitical interest in producing a labour force is not your friend and is not, structurally, protecting your interests. that doesn't mean that medical care is intrinsically bad (i hope it's clear that it is emphatically not) or that doctoring is transhistorically doomed to produce and depend on capitalist bio-exploitation.
i guess this is just a long way of saying i think agamben produced a few interesting analyses of existing institutions and structures of power, but relies on operating assumptions that make him really useless for theorising power in a way attentive to its (class) character. i think that whole milieu is more a politics of anti-sociality than anything else and that it has only limited, local points of overlap with communism (and then only when taken pretty far out of its theoretical context).
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agere-ena · 2 days
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I just found something so huge brained in my notes app you guys
I think Mizuki would enjoy being in Nightcord VCs whenever she's doing something boring, it keeps the executive dysfunction at bay. In this case, it's spring cleaning!
She's going through storage boxes she hasn't touched in a while, informing her circle members every time she finds something interesting, occasionally turning her webcam on to show it off... And then she comes across the box that houses her magical girl toy collection.
Gasp!! She totally thought she lost this particular MiraMagi henshin pact!! She turns her video on and shows everyone her beloved toy. Ah, but it doesn't look nearly as cool as usual when it's not turned on... That simply won't do. She runs off to go get batteries for it, turns it on, and shows her group members every single light sequence!!
... Oh, right, she's supposed to be cleaning!! She gets back on that. For all of five minutes. And then... gasp!! Her MiraMagi deluxe play-and-learn tablet (with 20+ educational minigames included)!! This one, too, is turned on and shown off... As she idly starts one of its minigames, she reminisces on the day she got it. She was a little embarrassed buying this particular toy, it doesn't quite scream "collectors' item for all ages" as much as the simpler henshin items. This was absolutely, undeniably a toy for little kids, and there she was, buying it for herself, about 3 times the age of the intended audience.
She mostly just wanted it because it looked pretty, but upon turning it on and tapping around aimlessly for a bit, she discovered that the minigames were actually pretty fun! And, weirdly enough, sometimes they were even challenging for her. She'd had to hand off the device to her sister in order to finish a level every so often... Jeez, she wishes her sister was here right now, this level is one of the tougher ones.
At this point, every member of the VC (sans Mizuki herself) has gotten a pretty good idea as to the minigames' mysterious spikes in difficulty. It's pretty hard not to come to the conclusion that they have, given that Mizuki's messing up every other word she says, and that the game she's struggling with seems to focus on single-digit addition.
There's some typing from Ena's end, and, a moment later, she asks Mizuki if she'd like to pop over to Empty SEKAI for some help. Kanade and Mafuyu are also surprisingly enthused about seeing the device in person, with the former suggesting that Miku and the others might like to take a look at it too!!
Mizuki is overjoyed at everyone's interest in her cool toy, and she agrees right away, promising to bring over as many toys as she can carry!! Cue several hours of a very happy baby showing off her toys to everyone who will look. No more spring cleaning gets done that day.
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knavesflames · 1 hour
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Please PLEASE write vocal Arlecchino x groupie friends with benefits reader
Girl aren't you going to share??;)
Here you goooo I’m so sorry it’s late!! I wanted originally dom!arlecchino but then this happened and I don’t really know but 😁
Contents: face riding, she calls you a slut but it’s good
Word count: 951
Nsft utc!
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“Here again, are you?”
She murmurs, gathering a fistful of your hair, tugging it to tilt your head back enough for her to see you. Your eyes, clad with different coloured eyeshadows and lashes coated with mascara, stare back at her with a needy, almost pleading gaze. Arlecchino makes a sound in the back of her throat in response, bringing her head closer to yours only to tease you with her breath on your lips.
“New mascara, huh? I wonder how fast it’ll smudge. You’ve always looked pretty when it’s running down your face.”
You can’t help but whine, rubbing your thighs together which earns a sharp tug of your hair from the singer. You’ve gotten to know her after attending every single one of her concerts for the past year. And by ‘gotten to know her’.. you’ve certainly been acquainted with her pussy and her strap, that’s for sure. You know nothing about her personal life, nor anything past her stage name and everything that the public already knows. But something about her is intoxicating. Whether it’s the way her voice changes, deep and almost enchanting when she sings, to commanding and higher pitched as she grunts and praises you. And you aim to please her, always if only for the words that leave her lips, serving as material you can use to fuck yourself with later when she’s not touring.
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight. I see the length of your devotion knows no bounds.”
“Always, for you,” you whine, relishing in the pain of your hair being held so harshly, though you both know how much you love it.
“I didn’t bring the strap today. No matter. On your knees.”
She doesn’t even have time to shove you down before you’ve sunk to your knees, your hands resting tentatively on her thighs. She perches herself on one of the boxes they use to store stage props, spreading her legs as she releases your hair and stares down at you.
“You know what to do.”
And you do know what to do as you bury your face between her thighs, kissing up her inner thigh before stopping right where she wants you to be as your breath stutters. You pay for that by receiving a nudge of her boot. It doesn’t hurt, but it makes you oh so aware of the fact that you do what she says, and not the other way around. So, you continue kissing up her thigh until your lips gently land on her clit. A sharp inhale comes from Arlecchino in approval, and it’s only when you let your tongue dive between her folds that you realise how wet she truly is. Maybe she enjoys these meetings more than she lets on, but she’d die before she admits it.
Your tongue begins exploring her the way it has a few times before. Up, then down, then a circle around her clit before you softly suck on it, and then you repeat. And each time you reach the swollen bundle of nerve endings, her body tenses and she clenches her jaw to stifle a moan. You continue until you begin paying special attention to only her clit, burying your face in her pussy. Her hips begin jumping up every so often, the movements becoming more frequent until her hands card through your hair, forcing you still as she begins rutting against your tongue. It seems even now she can’t not take control, but it isn’t like you’re complaining. Her silent breaths become grunts and groans that end in what seems like whines— you’d never tell her that she whines just like you do, you’d probably never get to hear them again.
Your hand slips through the gap of her shirt, fumbling to roll her nipple between your fingers until she ends up a grunting, whining, desperate mess.
“Let me- let me use you like the pretty slut you are.”
You’re more than eager, eventually finding the rhythm she wants to move at and moving your tongue in tandem, eliciting another whine from her, louder than the last, more desperate somehow. Her thighs begin clenching around your head, and you couldn’t escape her grip even if you tried. The messy, deliciously lewd wet sounds of her arousal fill the room, and the only thing heard from you is your silence apart from your quiet gasps for breath, needing to make her feel good. It’s like your breath stops when you hear her whimper.
“Please—“
You’ve never heard her beg before. She’s never once begged, but she must be desperate to cum. Then it hits you. She hasn’t had a show for a few months. She hasn’t seen you for a few months. She hasn’t been fucking anyone else. The realisation spurs you on, your fingers sliding into her to curl into the spongy spot inside of her. Her free hand clutches onto your back as her hips move, gripping hard on both your back and your hair until her hips stutter and she lets out a sound that could only be recognised as some cry of pleasure as she orgasms. And you lap up every bit of it, not wasting a drop as she lets her hips slow to a stop, her grip releasing after a while. You stand back up and she grabs your chin, wiping the mascara from your cheeks that did, indeed, run (you knew it would, but you know how she loves it) before pulling you into a fast, passionate kiss before she breaks it, an almost threatening whisper leaving her.
“Tell anyone about what just happened and I’ll make sure you don’t step foot into any venue in Teyvat.”
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halfyearsqueen · 2 months
Text
her education as a child was ? extensive, to say the least. as the only child of the heir apparent’s heir, at the time of her birth, she was ? 4th in line to the throne. though it was assumed that viserys would sire a male child and would have a son to succeed him. she was taught things like music, social graces - how to walk, how to present herself at court. how to read, how to write . but her greatest education when it came to court was through exposure. it’s ? said that viserys took her everywhere with him and he encouraged her to ‘ watch and listen closely ‘ . and we know that it was because she was so visible around court that she got the name ‘ the realm’s delight ‘ in the first place
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tired-biscuit · 2 months
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18+ MDNI, fem!reader
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having this really specific — and kind of goofy — thought about getting a tiny rubber duck as like a joke gift for your boyfriend yuuji, and him making sure it’s turned around whenever you guys fuck in the shower.
you’re having a full blown make out session and the water is hot as it runs down you both — yes, you’re squeezed together that tightly. his pink hair is dripping wet, it sticks to his forehead, and his mouth has formed into this adorable ‘o’ shape as he pants and stammers and grunts from how good your touch feels as you stroke him.
he’s got one palm pressed against the tiles that you’re leaning against, the other one is cupping your pussy. his fingers lazily circle your clit as his tongue tangles with yours; the tips nudging your warm entrance every so often and gathering the sticky arousal there before it can be washed away by the water because he knows he won’t be able to push that fat cock of his into you otherwise when the time comes for it.
however, when that time does indeed come and you hint at getting slammed, yuuji is pulling back, his honey-coloured eyes suddenly open wide. he’s still breathing like he’s just ran a marathon instead of standing in the shower and his broad chest heaves up and down as he turns his head to the side in one sharp movement; right in the direction of the spot where you both keep your shampoo bottles.
“yuuji…? what’s wrong?” you ask, eyelids still heavy with lust. it makes your vision somewhat blurry.
“just a sec,” he rasps, searching amongst the bottles. “gotta make sure we don’t have an audience.”
“an audience?” you repeat.
“yep!” he says, popping the p. “i meant this little sucker right… here.”
after a little rummaging, he finds the thing he’s been looking for: a small rubber ducky that you’d gotten him months ago as a means to cheer him up after he’d had a particularly bad day.
you watch, brow quirked in quiet amusement, as he carefully flips it around then, making sure it remains in the same exact spot, but this time with its little beak turned towards the shower wall instead of you.
he treats it with such care, like it’s made out of gold instead of plain vinyl. knowing him, he probably does see it that way and it makes you huff a laugh.
he’s just so goddamn endearing, isn’t he?
seemingly pleased with his actions, yuuji swiftly focuses his attention back to you. he smiles that beaming lover boy grin that you feel weak in the knees for, and his hands are loving but firm as he grabs you by the hips, silently urging you to press your front against the tiles instead of your back.
“okay, your turn now.”
with how hard he is, something tells you he won’t treat you as gently as he did his present.
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nanaslutt · 6 months
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okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL
Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..
contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.
“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.
“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.
After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.
“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.
“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.
“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.
“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.
But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..
..which might’ve been a mistake.
You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—
“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.
Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.
“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.
“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.
He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.
“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.
The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.
“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.
“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.
“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.
“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.
“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.
“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.
“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.
He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.
“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.
“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.
“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.
“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”
“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.
“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.
“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.
“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.
Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.
“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.
“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..”
Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.
“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.
When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.
“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.
“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’
He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.
“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.
“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.
“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.
“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.
“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.
“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”
“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.
“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.
“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.
Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.
He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.
Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.
“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.
“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.
You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”
His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.
“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.
“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.
When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”
“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.
You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.
“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.
“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.
“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.
The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.
‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.
“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.
You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.
He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.
You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.
“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.
He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.
“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.
“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.
“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.
You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.
You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.
“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.
He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.
He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it— whatever gojo did, you did.
“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.
“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.
“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.
Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.
“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.
“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.
“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.
“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.
“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.
“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.
You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.
“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.
“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.
“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.
“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.
“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.
Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.
“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.
“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.
“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.
You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.
“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.
You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.
“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.
“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.
“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.
You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.
“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.
Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.
After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.
Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”
pt. 2 here
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ohcaptains · 3 months
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𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.
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college! peter parker x fem reader.
18+ only !!! f! receiving oral sex. peter parker has an oral fixation i said what i said. in my spider-man era again.
peter was a weekly visitor at this point. sometimes, it was twice, but never more than three. three was pushing it.
Three said that Peter meant something to you, and you couldn’t have that. No, whatever this was between the pair of you was strictly transactional. It was Peter texting you late at night, the classic, you up? Gracing your screen, and every time, you would pretend to be annoyed.
As if Peter coming around to give you the greatest head of your life was an inconvenience. Tempted, the devil on your shoulder smirking, to type back, Jesus, again? but never doing it. Instead, you wrote: sure.
Still, it plagued your mind. He never asked for anything else.
It was as if he did this purely for himself.
“Oh fuck,” you mewled, clenching down tight. The hand that was wrapped around Peter’s brown curls clutched and tugged, and the unconscious movement earned you a chastised groan. It rumbled through your cunt, and the echo shot to your clit, making you close your eyes and lean back, wet mouth spilling his name into your dorm.
Peter liked hearing you.
Liked seeing you lose your mind with his head between your thighs, your pussy wet and throbbing from his mouth and fingers. It’s why he came around often. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even text, would just knock on your door -- looking sheepish from under his dark curls -- and just. Not. Say. Anything.
His silence was answer enough. You knew what he wanted. Or, needed, as you later figured out, as you saw how red he’d gotten when you told him he couldn’t come around for a bit. When you said something about focusing on exams, he’d come over anyway, whined, shuffled his feet and said, You can do your work, I just gotta…I’ll be quick.
The lack of explanation made your mind swirl. But regardless, you’d let him in and did your work with his head between your thighs. He’d tutored you, too, told you how to solve for x with his fingers inside of you. He’d said, if you let me make you come again, I’ll do your Maths work for the next week. After he’d left, you stared at the scene of the crime in pure silence.
Just…reflecting.
Peter fluttered his tongue over your swollen clit. Focused on swirling it around his tongue in sloppy, wet circles, and the thick desire that swelled between your thighs began to pool at your lower back, forcing you to arch up into it.
“Please,” you wept, even though he was giving you what you wanted. Flat on your back with his deft grip keeping your bare thighs open. It was 8 pm. He’d caught you just after your shower, so the smell of your shampoo and body wash wafted through the air – Lavender and pear.
Peter had spread you open and said you smelled like spring. You’d been far too turned on to comment on it. He grumbled into your cunt, and you managed to work out the word, more? You hummed, too drunk on him and wound tight to verbalise that yes, you wanted more. Wanted him to make you come, and come again, till all you could do was mumble his name and focus on your breathing.
He'd learnt how you liked it. Paid attention, and he was getting full scores as he pushed his tongue flat against your swollen clit and sucked. Your vision went white.
“Oh fuck – ohfuck, Peter—” you squirmed, but Peter was strong, and he held you to the bed with his vice-like grip, wordlessly saying take it take it take it.
He lapped at you, salvia drooling over your cunt and down his chin, soaking the sheets. He was always so careless. In moments like this, that nervous edge that always fluttered around him was gone, replaced by a visceral drive to either please you, or get what he wanted.
The two bled into each other.
His tempo was leisurely, but that didn’t stop the heat from washing over you all at once.
You clamped your thighs around his ears and moaned -- loud, so loud that you were sure the other students on your floor heard.
Still, the ache was erratic, “So good,” you sobbed, and you heard yourself, heard the near primal need in your voice, and the desperation made you embarrassed, made you cover your mouth with your palm and grip the sheets, willing yourself to cool it. 
“Move your hand, or I’ll stop,” he uttered against you, and your clit was so sore that the echo of his words made your eyes roll back. Peter must have seen, as he hummed a laugh, and kissed your inner thigh, “lemme hear you.”
Managing to gain some sense of sanity, you blearily blinked down at him, but all sense of stability you thought you had was wiped away when you saw Peter had his hand stuffed down his pants.
You dropped back onto the bed and sobbed.
You knew he got off on this, but Jesus Christ, you’d never seen that before.
“Gotta be kidding me,” you breathed, and Peter must have understood what you were referencing, as he buried his reddening face into your inner thigh. He let out a breathy chuckle, “’ M’sorry,” he mumbled, “usually I wait till I get home, but you’re just so hot.”
You had to stay completely still, or you’d burst. Usually, I wait till I get home?
Peter moved his face and began nuzzling the wet folds of your pussy. He bumped his nose against your clit, and you quietly choked.
Peter hummed, “couldn’t help myself.”
You figured he did something like that, but the admission made your thighs tense. You pictured him stumbling home – cheeks still wet with you – and tugging his pants down, quickly shoving his hands into his boxers and taking hold of his aching cock. Did he whimper when he came? Or was he silent, all tremors and low grunts? No. He definitely whimpered.
He was far too pretty to stay quiet.
The sudden desire to kiss him swept over you.
Reaching down, you tugged at his curls, wordlessly motioning him to move. When he did, you briefly saw the red of his cheeks and wet of his nose before you kissed him, all tongue, and tasted yourself on his pink lips.
Peter melted into you. Huffed your name like a sigh, and the sheer tenderness of it had you wrapping your legs around his back and pressing your bare cunt against his jeans.
He was rock-hard. Tentatively, you ran your nails over his chest, and dipped low, pressing between his thighs, cupping his bulge, and gently squeezing. Peter wept.
“Oh fuck,” he sobbed, as desperate as you imagined. With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you continued to kiss him, until the ache between your thighs became too much to bear.
“Make me come,” you whispered, “and I’ll put you in my mouth.”
Peter had never moved so fast in his life.
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craycraybluejay · 7 months
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You know how a pretty obvious majority of kinksters are submissives? You want to know a big part of the reason why it's hard to find a dom that's into the same hard kink you are?
Ask a hardcore masochist what they think of being whipped.
Then ask a hard sadist what they think of whipping someone.
Do you notice that the sadist/dom will often either dance around an answer or try to use soothing language/euphemism not unlike the way how in many places people are still expected to discuss sex if at all. Gentle, calculated language.
The issue is, especially with a new surge of purity culture overtaking so-called "leftist" online circles, is that fantasy becomes a moral judgement.
Sub with a noncon kink: "I want to be raped" (cnc but like. People can talk ab it how they want don't cancel me fr.)
Response from Normies: "well that's weird and kinda dark but ok"
Dom with a noncon kink: "I want to rape"
Response from Normies: "I'm calling the police and you should kys and you're also a sexual abuser and even though you haven't said anything about kids you're also also a pedophile :)"
Not only does the attitude of murderous hatred against doms/tops with hard kinks/fetishes/paraphilias make it difficult for them to practice those kinks (safely and ethically) out of fear of social backlash if it's ever found out even if both they and their partner[s] had a great time and are fine-- but, it actively puts innocent people in danger by equating thoughts and attractions of ANY KIND to the act of hurting others against their will. It equates fantasy, which can oftentimes be played out safely if in a modified way with real harmful actions.
Also, kink is still illegal in many places, so don't "its illegal" me about harder kinks. Law is not morality, none of us are free until all of us are free, etc. You get the gist.
You want to see more doms? Meet someone who can indulge your "scary badwrong" sexy feelings? Then maybe don't actively promote a culture where you put ANY kind of attraction or kink under fire. It doesn't matter if it'd be unethical to act out in real life. Some of the most common kinks worldwide are unethical as fuck to act out irl, including rape. That's why we have cnc, come on, guys.
You know what? In fact, you SHOULD actively shun people who shame others for their sexual feelings. EVEN if you think it's gross. EVEN if it wouldn't be ethical to act on irl. Let these types know that their puritan ideals are NOT accepted here. Let them know that if they want to go to church they can do that but not in your space, not forcing other (non consenting!) people to listen to their hateful and repressive ideology.
Like, hey, I'm not into ABDL, for example. But I will defend to the death other people's right to be into that. To think and feel whatever they think and feel. You think diapers are sexy? Great! I don't personally see the appeal, but you do you boo. There is no Correct Way to be sex/kink negative. Either you believe in thought crime or you don't.
And yes, this post includes "harmful" paraphilias (I put it in quotes because they're only harmful if acted on), sadomasochism, mutilation fetishism, etc etc. Every "gross" or "evil" kink, fetish, para you can possibly imagine. The stuff that makes you horny is just stuff that makes you horny, and being horny is normal. Being "weird horny" is also normal. No one deserves to experience shame, let alone public harassment or hate over feelings they most of the time don't Choose to have. Be mindful of puritan rhetoric and strike it down when you see it.
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altruisticalastor · 4 months
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Summary: Alastor didn't like sharing your charm with the others. Which often led him to get needy. Craving extra special attention from his darling girl, which you happily supplied.
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, heavy breeding kink, praise kink, soft!alastor, creampies, dirty talk, fingering, light biting, nipple play (reader recieving), begging, making out
☒ Word Count: 1,564
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Your peers swore you had cast a spell upon Alastor. He was wrapped around your little finger, and you lost count of how many times demons who stayed at the hotel would come up to you and ask if you owned his soul. 
You may not have owned his soul, but you certainly owned his heart.
After the initial shock wore off, your counterparts left it be. Angel would joke often about how Alastor was "pussy whipped". But that was as far as the teasing went. Everyone else knew not to step on The Radio Demon's toes. 
It wasn't hard for your peers to catch on; to why exactly Alastor loved you so dearly. You were an absolute sweetheart, caring and compassionate in every way. You always offered a hand to any of your counterparts who required assistance, and your actions proved that you were constantly thinking of ways to make everyone feel valued. 
Alastor rather despised having to share your charm with others. Which often led to long nights of your lover being clingy and needy for you. Much like tonight. 
You were flat on your back atop the plush duvet. Alastor surrounded you with his frame, slender arms enclosing near your head. Your lover placed soft kisses across your face. Humming one of his favorite tunes in the process. "Absolutely breathtaking, my doe," Alastor whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. 
A chill ran down your spine at the feeling of your lover's bare body pressing against yours. His cold flesh was a nice contrast to the warmth you emitted. You let out a soft whine as Alastor's erection grazed your lower tummy, making you needier than ever for him. Which was The Radio Demon's goal all along. It was only fair to make you feel just as desperate for him as he was for you. 
"Do you know how much I cherish you, my dear?" Alastor cooed, nipping at your neck. Leaving pretty marks in his wake. His sharp teeth grazing along your pulse point caused your breath to hitch. Your lover trailed lower, still pressing his body close to yours. 
"Yes," You sighed, burying your hands into his fluffy tufts of hair as Alastor's lips wrapped around one of your nipples. His hands began to wander. One slipped between your legs, gathering your slick with his deft digits. His other hand trailed to your other breast, tweaking your neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
"Good girl..." Alastor released your nipple with a loud pop before darting his tongue out to circle around your areola. A cry of his name slipped past your parted lips as Alastor's ring finger eased its way into your pussy. Your grip on his hair tightened as you held him closely to your chest, pulling a deep groan from your lover's lips. 
"Feels so good, Al," You babbled, raising your hips to meet the slow cadence of his finger plunging deep inside you. Alastor's lips shifted to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Only this time, his sharp teeth skimmed along your sensitive nipple. A sultry moan ripped through you from the sensation, urging Alastor on to add a second finger inside your inviting heat. 
Alastor slowly rutted his hips against the plush duvet, letting out groans against your marked-up flesh. "Please, my love... need you inside," You whined desperately, pulling his face up to have him meet your gaze. A string of saliva connected Alastor's lips to your hardened nipple. His cock twitched at the look of desperation you gave him. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows knitted with emphasis; eyes half-lidded. 
"How could I say no when you ask so graciously, hm? I intend to give my little doe everything she needs." Alastor's smile widened as he pulled his fingers out of your dripping heat. He didn't waste a beat wrapping his slick-coated fingers around the base of his cock. A whine escaped you as your lover ran the head of his flushed length between your folds.  
"Hmm, you're so wet for me, darling. Do I really work you up that much?" Alastor quipped, allowing the tip of his cock to push past the tight ring of your pussy. You nodded your head in agreement, pushing your hips closer to his; but to no avail. Alastor's hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place. "Use your words, my dear."
"Y-Yes! Always, Al. Just you... only this needy for you," You were already stupefied by the pleasure your lover granted you, and he barely even began. A deep chuckle escaped Alastor. The radio crackle reverberated through his chest. "I hope you are aware that the feeling is mutual, my precious little doe,"
With that, your lover pushed deeper inside you. Stretching your walls to accommodate his length. "F..Fuck, so tight. You are squeezing me so greatly, darling." Alastor hissed through gritted teeth. Your thighs came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his pelvis flush against yours. 
A gasp fled you as you felt your lover twitch from deep inside you. His full balls kissed the underside of your pussy, making your head spin. "Al, you're so big, feels s-so good..." Your hands enveloped the back of his neck, drawing his face close to yours. Alastor's lips ghosted your own as he delivered his first thrust deep inside your fluttering heat. 
"You take me so well, my darling. Your tight little hole was made for me- and me alone." Alastor whispered against your lips, finding a slow but steady rhythm. Desperate whines escaped you, and your lover drank up each and every single one. Alastor was infatuated. His crimson orbs held so much adoration for you. 
You kept your gaze fixated on him as he fucked into you sweetly. Your legs narrowed around his waist as Alastor began plunging into you with more vigor. "I'm going to breed you, my sweet little doe," Alastor huffed. One of his large palms wrapped around your hand before he dragged it down to your tummy. A sharp gasp fled you as you touched the prominent bulge your lover was causing. "Feel that, my dear? I'm in so deep. Surely you'll get pregnant when I spill my seed inside you." 
You clenched harshly around him from his crude words. The thought of Alastor knocking up caused the coil within you to unravel. "P-Please, breed me! Fill me up, make me yours for good!" You cried out, thighs trembling around your lover's waist. Your words diminished the last of Alastor's resolve. Before you knew it, his large hands hooked under the back of your thighs. Pushing them tightly to your chest.
A sharp gasp escaped you from the change of position. Alastor's cock reached even deeper from this angle, intensifying the heat in your lower tummy. "Such a good girl you are! You're so pilant, so willing... so eager for me to fuck a baby into you." His words caused your walls to flutter wildly around his length. You were on the edge of cumming all over his cock. The pleasure Alastor provided you was becoming too invigorating to bear. 
"Al, ah... I'm close! K-Kiss me, please!" You begged as his hips pistoned harshly into yours. The lewd sound of his balls slapping against the underside of your drooling pussy sent a pleasurable chill down your spine. Alastor wasted no time capturing your lips. The kiss was hot and messy, tongues intertwining with one another as the coil within you finally snapped. Your lover drank up all of your whines as your pussy pulsed and gushed around his cock. 
Alastor wasn't far behind you. His release was triggered by yours. The feeling of your hot, wet walls trying to milk him for all he was worth made him feel lightheaded. His thrusts became sloppy before his hips ultimately stilled against yours. Alastor groaned into the kiss as his cock twitched from deep within you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as the first ropes of his cum spilled into your pussy. 
There was so much, and the feeling of being bred by your lover was heavenly; ironically so. Alastor slowly broke away from the kiss as he attempted to catch his breath. His cock was still nestled deep inside you as he stared down at you lovingly. You couldn't help but smile widely at your lover, allowing your palms to capture his cheeks. Rubbing Alastor's face gently with the pads of your thumbs. 
"Alastor, that was... wow," You giggled as your lover slowly released his tight grip on your thighs, allowing your legs to lie flat against the bed. "You are truly perfect, my dear. I simply cannot get enough of you!" Alastor's praise caused your heart to flutter in your chest. He was so gentle with you and you alone. Pride surged through your soul at the notion that Alastor only had a soft spot for you.
Your train of thought was cut off by the sensation of your lover's cock hardening from deep inside you once more. A smirk crossed Alastor's features as he reveled in your look of shock. "What's with the look of awe, my darling? I told you I was going to breed you. I don't intend to leave this room until I am positive you have been thoroughly bred."
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tags; @danveration
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downbadf0rficppl · 4 months
Text
pink in the night
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!
AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3
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Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.
On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.
This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.
You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.
He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.
He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.
Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.
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Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.
You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.
Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.
You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.
You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.
Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.
Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.
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Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.
It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.
Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.
The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.
He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.
"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'
As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.
"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.
"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."
He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.
"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.
"No point."
Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."
"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."
Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.
Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.
The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.
He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.
"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.
"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.
"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.
"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."
Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.
He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.
He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.
When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.
He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.
"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.
You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."
He was gone by the time you turned around.
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The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.
"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"
"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"
"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."
"He can't even masturbate you know?"
The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.
No, that blame could only lie with you.
When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.
You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.
You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.
" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."
"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."
"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"
"Yeah, man, really sucks."
Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.
You had to get to the bottom of this.
You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.
You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.
Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.
He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.
"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.
You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"It's stupid."
"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.
Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"
Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."
"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"
"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.
Bucky didn't miss that either.
He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.
"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.
"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.
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He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.
"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.
He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.
He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.
"Off."
You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.
His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."
Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.
"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.
"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.
"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.
You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.
He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.
He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.
"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."
He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.
"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."
"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.
He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.
"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.
Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.
Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.
He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.
"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.
Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.
He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.
He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.
Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.
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You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.
Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.
"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.
The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"
He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"
You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."
You stifled a laugh.
"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."
You looked at him confused, "Why not?"
"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."
You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.
"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.
He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.
He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you I love you I love you.
fin.
buy me a coffee
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