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#everything in it remains forgotten
deva-arts · 1 month
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Emelia sent this , as a suggestion of what she thinks your world looks like.
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This is Taken from 'Ghostrunner' , a game on steam.
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Dark, desolate streets overrun by Technology, and tags. Maybe the lower-income side of the city. Maybe your world is not unapologetically futuristic. But it's a neat thought. She had this type of area in mind when she heard of your little world. And wanted to give me an idea about an expansive and futuristic stage for a story.
So cool! I always loved this aesthetic... Ah... You can smell the human rights violations...
As for my story, we will eventually see what their cities look like :]
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occultopossum · 7 months
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If it were 2016 people would be starting kickstarters so they could buy tumblr themselves
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eorzeashan · 4 months
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Eight has a lot of facets, but I'm still fascinated by his role as the shepherd to Jadus' flock--or the iteration of him where he accidentally becomes cult leader for the remnants of Jadus' followers after the war with Zakuul. In a meta context, he sees himself as the person necessary to test and guide all servants of Jadus in an effort to gather them all in one place and create a united understanding of the will of their master, though he initially is reluctant to even associate with Jadus' other underlings. Even as a retired 'Hand', he makes it his life's mission to interpret what Jadus left behind, becoming a sort of paranormal investigator for the life and works of this mysterious sith lord, as well as de facto leader of his followers who lacked guidance after Jadus' disappearance into seclusion.
One could call him the missing link to Jadus himself.
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mariocki · 5 months
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A Ghost Story for Christmas: The Signalman (BBC, 1976)
"The tunnel collision is the worst to be feared. Your nightmares would go hard to equal it. The wreckage becomes hideously compressed in the confined space. If fire breaks out, the tunnel and its ventilating shafts become furnace flues. You cannot see in the dark to get the wreckage and the bodies out. The screams of the injured and dying echo in a most... persistent way. It's the shape of the tunnel, you see, sir."
#a ghost story for christmas#the signalman#charles dickens#single play#horror tv#1976#bbc#classic tv#andrew davies#lawrence gordon clark#denholm elliott#bernard lloyd#reginald jessup#carina wyeth#rosemary hill#holds a very special place in my heart as not only the first of the LGC Ghost Stories i ever saw (a late night bbc repeat many years ago#and before they were all so readily available) but also as perhaps the first ghost story i ever read: i was gifted a book of ghostly tales#as a small child (a bizarre choice as i was a trembling flower of a child who feared absolutely everything) and i have never forgotten the#cover‚ an illustration of the titular signalman waving his flag in thick mist or smoke. it has remained a favourite tho‚ perhaps bc#it hits on some of my very favourite ideas and tropes in horror fiction: the self fulfilling prophecy‚ the inevitability of an event and#the echoes it casts‚ backwards as well as forwards; horror as a cycle or ouroboros‚ where the victim and the monster (for want of a better#term: the supernatural perhaps) are one and the same but the realisation comes too late. Davies' script works hard to pack a lot of this in#to a modest running time (a notable early work from him and one of his first adaptations of a victorian work‚ something that has become#in many ways the focus of his career and at which he truly excels). largely a two hander between Lloyd's well meaning skeptic and the#peerless Elliott as the troubled railwayman‚ but Clark is working as hard as ever to make the setting and the decor into just as vital#characters (could a more foreboding and significant looking train tunnel even exist? a spectacular find by someone at the bbc)#not perhaps the archetypal LGC ghost story for christmas (it's not a James story for a start) but a genuinely superlative example of#the ghost story as told for the medium of television.
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britneyshakespeare · 1 year
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A Mr. Darcy-type romantic lead is hard to write well, and Pride and Prejudice doesn't just remain popular because it's an unlikely love story, but because Jane Austen with her characterizations and the sequence of events still managed to make it convincing. But when you find a piece of media where the man our heroine is supposed to pine for is just rude, cold, and standoffish to her, without the hinted complexity... it's like, oh, wow. A mean little man you've got there. I'm so impressed. If only men were like this in real life, right? Just say "insolent nerd," I swoon.
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orcelito · 2 years
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Well I'm level 43 at the start of the okumura arc. Which means discacc pts are level 45 ish, probably
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palipunk · 7 months
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It was never about hamas. If israel manages somehow to kill every member of hamas, what then? Do you think Palestinians are just going to forgive and forget everything Israel has done?
Babies who are the only surviving members of their families? Fathers carrying the remains of their children in plastic bags? Palestinians who witnessed people blown to bits right in front of them? Had Israeli forces shoot at them as they tried to escape the north? Palestinians in the West Bank who have been captured and tortured on camera? Palestinians in 48 who have been arrested just for sympathizing with their kin in Gaza? Palestinian school girls being assaulted by the IOF? Mothers who only have the blood of their children on their hands as their only remaining piece of them? The constant dehumanization that followed our every move - how while Palestinians suffered, politicians called us “monsters”, “human animals”, “children of darkness”, “savages”, and “cockroaches”?
It’s been 75 years since my family was forced from their villages by Zionist militias, they have never forgotten what they did to their neighbors and how they are still denied their right of return. None of us will.
Now, IOF forces in Gaza raise the Israeli flag over the beaches and take selfies with fleeing Palestinians in the background, cheer and celebrate a “return to their settlements in gaza” and sing about leveling the land and fantasize building shopping malls on Palestinian mass graves - it was never about hamas.
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cemeterything · 6 months
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for me the horror of immortality isn't that you'll outlive everyone and everything you'll ever love, but that you'll outlast its inevitable decay as well. that you'll remain unchanged whilst entropy ensures that everything around you eventually fades away to nothing and is forgotten entirely by time. that your inability to change will eventually make the familiar unrecognizable and, even worse, irretrievable to you.
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luvwestwood · 5 months
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"Thank You For Your Service" - Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna
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4,341 words.
warnings. nsfw, firemen! toji/sukuna, food-play, oral sex, p in v, mildly dubious con, double penetration, unprotected sex, throat fucking, rough play/sex, praising kink, creampie, degradation/dumbification (slut, whore)
notes. as an owner of your own independent bakery, you deliver your local firemen some sweet treats as a 'thanks' for their service. although a few of the men at the station decide to have a little fun with you. aka toji and sukuna fuck you silly and stuff you with their cum like a profiterole. also this has been in my draft for ages and I wanted to post it before I get back to classes 😭💀
banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig
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After successfully balancing the cash register, you glance over to the clock on the wall that reads sharply, '4:30' in the afternoon.
The rest of the staff, aka the young students you've hired to work in your bakery were long gone, as you had let them off quite early today.
You walked over to the display fridges to see what's remained of the cakes from today. As expected, there were a good few things left such as profiteroles and small dessert cakes.
"Mmm, maybe I should give these to the firemen down at the station."
You smiled as you came up with the sustainable idea to gift the local fire station a box of sweet treats as a thank you for their service. I mean, who wouldn't want free cakes?
You hummed as you tied the pink ribbon over the box. Hopefully you put enough in there, you knew that those working at the fire station were hardworking people, so they needed a lot to refuel.
Glancing to the clock again, only fifteen minutes have passed. You decided it was time to make your way to the fire station. You made sure everything was left prepared for the opening staff tomorrow. Grabbing your coat from the staff room, you took the rest of your belongings, and the nicely wrapped box, making your way to the fire station.
The walk wasn't long, as the station was only located down the avenue. They put the station in a place to make sure it was accessible for everyone. It was convenient for you at this moment too.
Coming to the front of the fire station, you were met with the garage shutters open. You weren't sure if you should just walk in through there, or go around to the visitors entrance. The lights were on though, and you could hear a faint chatter coming from the inside.
Deciding to take a peek, you could see two men sitting in chairs and talking, which you assumed were the firemen on duty today.
You couldn’t really make out their faces, but you could tell one had coral hair, the other, a dark black. At the same time, you mentally slapped yourself for freezing in one spot, wondering why you were unable to move.
Your eyes scanned their bodies, the muscular physique they owned had only been complimented by the fitted navy shirt they were wearing. You could tell both had put in the work at the gym. For once, you wished you were in a burning building right now.
Suddenly, the coral haired man looked in your direction, and by now you could make out some strange tattoos on his face. You gasp, startled at the fact he had caught you staring for awhile like some idiot. Curious, the raven haired man turns his head as well, and speaks.
"Well.. what do we have here?" he continued, "You lost, doll?" his voice so deep, it only went straight through your ears, down to your pussy.
By now, you had the attention of the two men, and it sort of felt belittling in a way. Part of you wanted to turn around and leave, as if nothing happened. Or maybe you could act like you walked into the wrong place.
Gulping, you clutched onto the corners of the box out of nervousness. "No.. I work at the local bakery down the block. I came here to uhm...” Your voice trails off, you had forgotten what to say.
The coral haired one butts into the conversation.
"Oh Toji, you've made her all nervous. She's so soft spoken now." He motions his hand for you to come closer, the so called 'Toji' rolling his eyes at what the other had said.
Hesitant, you stepped through the garage entrance, now hearing it close behind you as you walked closer to the two men. I guess there’s no turning back now..
You still didn't know what the coral haired one was called.
As you finally stood in front of them, they respectfully did the same, standing from the chairs they were just on.
Your stomach churned as you noticed the difference between your heights, the men now towering over you had only made the nauseous feeling worse. It had caused you to look up at them, like some lost puppy. Am I really this sex deprived?
You could have sworn that you felt something purr down there as the so-called Toji crosses his arms, his massive biceps on show. His navy fitted shirt practically sculpted over his muscles.
Begging to get out of this place that made it more difficult to withstand each minute, you spoke first.
“I work at the bakery down the street,” you continued after a breath, “..and I just wanted to give you these goodies as a thank you for your service to this city.”
Wanting to compensate for discomforting you earlier, Toji speaks. “Ain’t that sweet? S’kuna, take the box and put it behind me on the table.”
Sukuna, gently takes the box from your grasp. You felt your face warm up as his more bigger, calloused hands made contact with yours. He smiled at you, possibly for a silent thanks. You couldn't help but do the same.
Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you blushed. Flattered that these men were praising you. “Oh, it’s nothing really..” you slowly took a step back. “Anyways, I better get going.”
Toji had only kept his eyes on you, as if he were to devour you at any moment. Leaning against the table behind him, Toji didn't dare to look at anything else in the garage. Sukuna was busy on the other hand, toying with the pink ribbon on the box.
“..Leavin’ already? Isn't that a shame, I thought that you yourself came with these desserts.” Toji snickered, looking at Sukuna behind his shoulder for a response.
Your lashes fluttered, in utter shock you were speechless.
Sukuna, could only laugh at Toji’s cheeky joke that was laced with filth. His own eyes watched you as he sucked the cake’s cream off his fingertips.
Awkwardly laughing, you brush off what just happened. “..I really.. need to get going. I have a bus to catch.” You lied, thinking that it would be able to get you out of here.
“C’mon, it’s not everyday we get the opportunity to share these cakes with a pretty girl. Right, ‘kuna?”
“Yeah, today’s our lucky day.” Sukuna hums, his sentence ending with a smirk.
Biting your lip, you thought about it for a moment. I mean, there wouldn’t be anything else for you to do as soon as you come home.
You knew you were going to regret this, but part of you wanted to stay. I mean, what could go wrong? “Mmm, okay fine, I guess I have a few minutes to spare..”
Toji grins, the scar on his mouth moving with his lips as you walk back closer to the two. "I promise, we'll make the most of it."
He stands back from the table, casually grabbing you by the waist and swiftly setting you atop the table as if you were a doll. You could only hiccup, taken aback by his sudden gesture. You immediately tug down on your skirt due to it rising up just now.
Flustered and warm, you made the sensible decision to take off your coat. Toji only takes it from your possession, setting the coat down on a chair nearby.
Your legs dangled off the edge of the table, slowly swinging back and forth, taking a few breaths to calm your nerves as you watch the men’s next move.
Toji stood in front, facing you, almost between your legs as he reached over to the box of desserts on your right side, grabbing one of the few cream cakes.
Sukuna on the other hand, makes small talk with you. “You make these yourself, beautiful?”
“Oh no, not just by myself. I have a few other staff at my bakery who of course help out.”
He nods slowly in approval, wiping the rest of the ganache off his hands using the pants of his cargo overalls.
You bit your lip, asking a sudden question out of curiosity . “Can I ask, where’s the rest of your crew?.. Is it just you two?”
Toji, busy taking a bite of the cake rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t matter right now,” the question stays unanswered as he changed topics, “God, the cream in this- whatever the fuck this is- tastes great. What you call these again?”
"It's called a profiterole," You watched as Toji took a huge bite, licking the cream off the corners of his mouth.
He uses his finger to swipe a small dollop of the cake’s cream onto his fingertips, bringing it closer to your mouth.
“Here, try it for yourself, It’s the best thing I’ve had.”
Does he expect me to suck it off his finger just like that..?
You knew better, this man was a stranger. Should you really be going around casually sucking on men's fingers? “Oh, I don’t know if I should-”
“Don’t leave me hangin’ doll! creams gonna slide off my finger..”
You shyly gabbed onto his hand, sucking the cream off his fingertip. Toji would be lying if he said that a tent didn’t just form in his cargos. He could feel his cock straining against his pants, begging to come out.
"'Atta girl.." Toji purred as he felt your hot mouth wrap around his finger.
He could only imagine what it would be like if you were to suck your own juices off his fingers after they had just been inside you.
This whole time, Sukuna was quietly watching everything unfold. He could feel a tinge of jealousy wash through him, angered at the fact that Toji was all handsy with you, and poor Sukuna couldn’t get a turn.
His index finger left your lips with a pop, his eyes never leaving yours. You heard Sukuna shuffle around with the box, his footsteps coming close to both where you and Toji were.
He gently pushed Toji aside, and unfortunately the raven haired sex fanatic took offense to that, Toji stabbing daggers into the back of Sukuna's head as he replaced his spot.
You shivered as Sukuna slithered his one hand onto your bare leg, the other hand holding another one of the cakes.
"How 'bout you share this one with me? Say ahh.." He brings the cake closer to your face, your face heating up from his hand slowly caressing the velvety skin on your thigh.
You grabbed onto his hand to stop it, "I'm really full, thank you th-"
Sukuna's hand suddenly moved down to your chest, smearing cake all over your blouse. The rest of the cake falling onto your skirt.
You jittered as you felt the cold cream manage to dribble down your sternum behind the fabric, a high pitch gasp escaping your lips out of discomfort.
"Oh my.." he continued with a devilish grin, "My hand slipped."
You gasped, your blouse now all ruined with red velvet cake and buttercream. "It's.. okay.. I'm heading home anyways."
"No, no-“ Toji behind him stepped in, "We gotta do something about that."
You tried to reassure them; using your hands as support to try hop off the table, "Guys, I promise it's nothing seriou-" but unfortunately Sukuna grabs the side of your thighs, setting you back on the table.
"Yeah no," thinking, Sukuna crosses his arms. "We gotta take that top off. In fact, take everything off."
Toji smirked, and let out a laugh. "I agree,"
Sukuna's large hands reached for the buttons of your blouse, pulling the top apart, the remaining fragments thrown to the other side of the garage.
The tiny buttons fly everywhere as you wince at the sight that unfolded before your eyes. You were able to see the evident change in the two men's demeanor as their eyes landed on the black lacy bra that was now on show.
"Ah-" Sukuna cooed, "She got some between her tits. Get this girl some tissue."
Toji walked around the garage in search of a tissue roll, and you watched him like a hawk, using your arms to cover your chest. "Can't seem to find any 'round here.."
Unable to form a sentence, you gape your mouth open at Toji, then to Sukuna.
"Well that's too bad.." he reaches for your arms, pulling them apart to expose your cake-stained chest back to him. “I wouldn’t mind licking it off.”
“Wait- I don’t think that’s-“ you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want this badly right now.
“Shh…” His hands snake down your chest to your abdomen, gently pushing you to lie against the table.
Your nipples go hard due to the contact of your back with the table’s cold surface, luckily they weren’t able to see that.
You felt as Sukuna’s wet tongue touches your stomach, slowly gliding up towards your cleavage that was stained with cream. You gasp, a breathy moan escaping your lips. That was enough to tell them both that you wanted this as much as they did.
You immediately grab onto his hair, and you could feel the smirk form against your skin.
You heard Toji’s footsteps come closer to your side of the table, he was suspiciously quiet for the time being.
Sukuna would only look up at you as he licked off the creamy residue all over your chest. The warmth from his tongue was ticklish, but this scene arousing enough to have a pool form between your legs.
“Think we gotta take this tiny skirt off too..” you felt him roughly grab on your skirt to slide it off, but not strong enough to rip it apart.
You could only clamp your thighs together, as the rest of your garments were stripped of you, the outcome being you all flustered that you were so exposed in-front of the two men.
Sukuna uses his hand to force your legs open, his head moving between your legs.
Until you felt another pair of hands clutch onto your panties and- rip!
You shudder as your bare pussy was met with the cold air of the garage, hoping to feel Sukuna’s warm, wet mouth but you were mistaken.
It was more cake.
Toji had smeared a Victoria-sponge dangerously below your lower abdomen.
Toji could only palm himself through his pants as he watches Sukuna devour the cake that was making its way towards your clit.
His tongue made its way to your dripping hole, slowly fucking into you back and forth.
“T-that feels.. so good..” you breathe out, Sukuna’s cock straining against the fabric of his pants as he heard this.
Unable to watch anymore, Toji stops palming himself through his pants. He makes his way to the box of desserts, disassembling a jam donut, scooping the strawberry glaze into his hands.
Horny, and jealousy filling his body like mad, he walks behind the table where your head was almost hanging off.
He eagerly unzips his cargos with an unoccupied hand, grabbing for his cock that has been nothing but a nuisance to him these past few minutes.
Too busy moaning in pleasure, you looked up to Toji, your vision of him upside down as you were laid against the table.
You could only watch as Toji’s heavy, thick cock slaps against your forehead, his jam covered hand wrapping around the base and making a mess of it on his length.
You felt his hand smear the strawberry residue all over your chest again, which was most likely for Sukuna to be able to lick.
“Better open wide you slut, or else it won’t fit.” You felt Toji’s hand grab onto your jaw, forcing mouth to open wider.
You moan as his cock fills your mouth so full, the sweet jam from the donut coating your taste buds. Toji wraps his hands around your neck, his two thumbs caressing your throat as he fucked his cock into it.
He groans, “Fuck, just like that..” throbbing as he felt the outline of his cock form against the skin of your throat. Squelching noises could only be heard as he staggeringly rut his hips back and forth.
You could hear Toji grunting above you from the sensation of the vibrations going to straight to his cock as you moaned. You felt Sukuna on the other end lapping at your clit, fucking you with two fingers of his fingers at the same time.
Taking a minute to close your eyes, you indulged in the pleasure you were receiving at both ends. At the same time, you were unable to tell who ripped your bra off you.
Toji pulls his cock away from your throat, leaving you to gasp for air. You shut your eyes tightly, disappointed at the empty feeling you were left with. Warm spit trickled down your face, Toji caressing your cheek but only to slap in after.
Toji doesn’t forget to plant a wet kiss on your lips before pulling away. You whimper as he leaves your side, but only this time he starts walking over to Sukuna’s end.
Sukuna pulled away from your dripping holes too, you wince and moan, praying that this isn’t the final moment that they’d have hands on you. You were too scared that the fun was cut short.
Using your elbows to prop yourself up, you watch the two men, speechless. You try to use this opportunity to catch your breath, but your head only falls back down onto the table. You stay sprawled out on the table, looking up at the bright lights of the garage.
“Feel like it’s time to stuff some cock in that pussy, don’t cha think?” Toji speaks, voice raspy from groaning.
“I think so too. But I’m fucking her first,” Sukuna replies.
A disagreeing Toji snaps back. “Nah, I want to.”
“Aren’t you forgetting we can both fuck her at the same time?” Sukuna suggests, your eyes widening at the thought of two men stuffing you full of cock at the same time.
You could almost predict that they could break you into two, and you have no idea how big any of them are yet. You use your elbows to prop yourself up again, your face showing an expression of disbelief. “I- I can’t do that.. I don’t think I can.”
Of course, they'd hardly take that as an answer. “We’ll see that for ourselves.”
You felt Sukuna grab onto your thighs once more, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you towards him. He effortlessly picks you up, carrying you over his shoulder and walking towards what seemed like one of the fire trucks.
You heard a door open, Sukuna placed you onto a longer leather seat that was behind the driver in the truck cab.
Hearing a door open behind you, Toji follows inside, crawling onto the same leather seat. He lays back, hands pumping his cock as he watches you from the other side of the seat.
Dazed, you could only immediately crawl onto Toji’s lap, straddling him. He grins, his hands squeezing onto the soft skin of your tits and fondling as you waited for Sukuna to join.
Sukuna climbs onto the seat but this time behind you. Toji slightly moves his head to the side, taking a peek at Sukuna. Too bad, Sukuna was already busy fucking your ass with one of his fingers, making sure you were ready to be stuffed of his cock.
Jealous, Toji grips onto the doughy skin on your hips, aligning his tip with your dripping cunt before slowly sliding in.
You let out a long string of moans and curses, as you felt his thick length stretch you out as you sink down onto his cock.
“God, you feel so good around my cock. ‘S like your pussy’s made for it.”
Hearing a zip behind you, you disregarded it, as you were still trying to adjust to Toji’s size. This was cut short as you were caught by surprise by Sukuna filling you up with his own cock, this time in your ass. He was thick, but not thick as Toji. Although the length made up for it, you would think that he was all the way in but in reality it was only half.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as both of their cocks were stuffed deeply in both of your holes.
Your hands clutched onto the fabric of Toji’s compression shirt, wrinkling it all together.
Toji placed his soles flat onto the seat, using this support to harshly thrust into you upwards more faster than before as Sukuna behind staggered into you at a more slowed pace. Although he wanted you bad, he made sure to be gentle. He just wanted to indulge every inch of you.
Toji on the other hand, bottomed into you balls deep, his thumb cheekily creeping over to your clit, rubbing in continuous circles as they both fucked into you.
“Fucking slut,” Sukuna spits out, voice shaky as the plush flesh of your ass only clenched around him. “Both holes stuffed full of men’s cocks who you don’t know?”
Sukuna reached for your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling you back against his chest.
You whimpered, snaking one of your hands behind to his nape. Sukuna leaned in for a kiss, only to pepper more down your neck to your collarbone.
Toji kept his pace, which as quite impressive. You moaned back into Sukuna’s cheek, feeling a knot twist and form in the pit of your stomach.
“I-It’s too much- I can’t…” Your hand leaves the back of his neck, moving up higher to clutch on his coral hair as the immense pleasure had only washed through you.
Toji below you speaks, “You think we should let her cum?”
Slapping your face as he started to slow down, he could see you were drunk of their cocks. Fortunately, Sukuna was unable to see this as he was busy behind.
Toji thrusted into you balls deep each time in a consecutive pattern, bullying your cervix as your body jolted up and down along with your tits.
Sukuna moved his hands back down, away from your hair to be able to spread your cheeks apart. Groaning as he watched his cock slip in and out of your ass, he makes a decision. “Fuck, I think so. She’s been such a good girl this whole time.”
Toji grins, his hand moving to your cheek but this time roughly caressing your lip with his thumb. “You hear that doll? He says you were such a good girl.”
You were unable to form a sentence, your brains were fucked out at this point and Toji, wasn’t happy with this.
“Fucking answer me you whore,” surprised, you came back to your senses as Toji slapped your cheek harshly, leaving a red mark on your face.
“..Please, let me cum..” you hiccuped, “I can’t take it anymore.”
You watched Toji flash his same old devilish smile through your tear filled eyes, both of their paces picking up again.
Your moans turned shaky, the slapping of balls against your skin and wet noises filling the taxi cab.
Toji went back to lazily rubbing circles on your clit as both of them fucked you, making sure that you would cum on time with them.
This time, Sukuna’s hand wrapped around your throat, bringing your ear close to his mouth. “You want us to breed you? Is that what you want?”
Lost in a trance, you just went with whatever. You didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be stuffed full of them forever.
You could only nod, but Sukuna couldn’t take it as an answer.
“Use your words baby, tell me what you want.” His warm breath tickled your ear, Toji’s thrusting making it difficult for you to speak.
You held onto Sukuna’s wrist around your throat, “I want.. both of your cum.. in me..”
Although your hand fell back onto Toji’s shirt as Sukuna gently pushed you back down. You sighed out loud, sobbing quietly as you felt his cock slide out of you.
Toji’s deep thrusts were the only thing you could feel, “Fuck, I’m coming.” He grunted beneath you, until you felt Sukuna’s cock entering the same hole Toji was in.
As you moaned out louder than before, the pleasure too hard to bear. You could feel yourself turning into jelly, your hands wrinkling the fabric of Toji’s shirt once again.
Your voice strained as you felt both of their cocks shoot warm, ropes of cum into you. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you, your chest heaving as Toji’s grip on your waist remained, but Sukuna’s hands slowly lost grip on your hair.
Both of them filled up your hole with seed to the point that it leaked out of you in no time.
Your eyes completely rolled back for tenth time this hour, feeling them both twitch inside of you, the white fluid leaking onto the black leather seats of the truck cab.
Sukuna leaves your hole first, moaning at sight of the generous amounts of cum that dripped down his length to his shaft as he slid out.
Followed by Toji, you could feel his cock slip out too, until his finger made its way back inside, making sure to fuck the escaping load back into you.
Both of them had left their mark in you, stretching you out so fully that no cock in the future can impress you but theirs.
You felt like a total cock sleeve, and your body yearned for more. But honestly, it felt like you were gonna break apart. So maybe next time.
All three of you stayed in the same spots, the windows were now fogged up to the point the entire truck cab smelled of sex.
“I can definitely point out one thing you and ‘em profiteroles have in common.”
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
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fluffylino · 5 months
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pussy agenda with hyunjin
-contains mature themes
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he can't keep his hands to himself.
doesn't really have to be sexual. but likes to shove his hand down your pants to cup your mound with his hand.
it could be at any time of the day.
regardless of whether you were sitting on the couch. or standing in the kitchen. or doing anything really.
you've gotten so used to it, it doesn't even bother you.
its so casual.
like you'd be telling him about how you read some weirdly interesting article. and he'd lazily walk over to you. listening and acknowledging everything you said.
but his hand had a mind of its own. slipping in your pants, to feel your warm cunt. middle finger running along your slit. before he takes his hand out and continues talking.
there are days when he'll purposely tease you. digging his fingers just a bit in. a small smile on his face when he feels you throb. making you make a startled noise. leaving you wet and swollen.
especially after he gets home from practice. hooking his chin on your shoulder. his left hand kneading your boob and his right hand in your pants.
.
shaving as well.
once, you had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. not like you even had to. the two of you were more than comfortable.
neck aching as you made sure you didn't miss any spots. your leg raised up on the sink counter. razor still in your hand while you shaved.
you had finished with your legs and arms. and now, (as hyunjin would say) your most delicate part remained.
you groaned. jumping a bit as your eyes met with a nonchalant hyunjin. who was leaning against the door frame, hand still resting on the door knob.
"need help?"
your cheeks flushing at his outrageous question. not to mention you were half naked. you needed help. and you trusted him. but it was more because your legs ached.
"i'll help you shave" he admitted, walking in. closing the door behind him.
and he indeed did.
"you don't need to shave by the way" he reassured.
"i'd eat your precious cunt regardless" such a casual statement to make. while keeping your legs open.
"careful" you mumbled, eyes cast down to where he was kneeling down. spreading your pussy lips apart.
as if he was inspecting your folds. gentle with each stroke of the razor.
"i know. baby's delicate pussy is very sensitive" hyunjin muttered, biting his lip as he concentrated on the task at hand. eyes fixed on your pussy. it made you feel very...exposed and maybe a bit turned on. his warm breath making you feel even hotter.
and after he's done.
he kisses it. working his way up.
"gonna have my fun with you later"  pressing his cushioney lips to your freshly shaven pussy. it was almost like he was letting your pussy know well in advance.
and pulling away with accomplishment written all over his face.
cause now you were getting wet.
.
or if he's driving. (like in the recent skz code). he'd be holding the steering wheel with his left hand. his right hand intertwined with yours.
slowly getting carried away.
till his fingers are teasing your slit. rubbing against it and pressing the pads of his index into your pussy. and pulling out. and doing it all over again.
never actually pushing all the way in.
keeping his finger pressed between your folds. almost like he's having his own fun while you're squirming and closing your legs around his hand.
he's focused on driving, reading the sign boards. even asking you if you're hungry. acting normal as though his hand isn't shoved down your panties. but as i mentioned. his fingers are on auto pilot.
in conclusion,
hyunjin would do anything for your pussy. even if that includes fleeting touches.
.
.
.
.
did you like it ehe.......
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bbyhellfire · 25 days
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can't stop thinking about riding eddie in front of a mirror (18+ only)
eddie x afab! reader, smut, p in v, mirror sex, reverse cowgirl, body worship
You never could hold your tongue when you smoked. Your thoughts scattered with every hit until the filter in your head faded away. It’s why you're comfortable enough to ask – 
“Why do you like it when I’m on top?”
You slip the joint between Eddie's fingers, your vision hazy as you watch the silver of his rings bleed into the dark blue interior of his van. His chest raises as he inhales, his eyes closing as he exhales with a loopy smile pulling on the corners of his mouth.
The words roll around in your dry mouth as you press him with another question, “Is it ‘cause my tits are in your face?”
“That's a reason. A pretty good one actually," He pauses to take another hit. "But not the reason.”
“Then why?”
Eddie is slow to respond, you can’t tell if he forgot your question or if he’s thinking of an answer. Your own mind buzzes until you’ve almost forgotten your initial question.
“Well,” He turns to you with bloodshot eyes and a boyish grin. “Why don’t I show you?”
That’s how you end up in your current position – sitting on top of Eddie with your cunt stretched out on his cock, facing away from him and towards the dirty mirror hanging on his bedroom wall. His hands cover your chest, his fingers circling and tweaking your nipples. A shudder runs up your spine when Eddie mutters behind you, “You look so good like this.”
You hum a detached response, eyes briefly flickering up to look at your face before they fall down to the sight of his cock notched inside you. Eddie gives your nipples one more twist before his hands settle on your hips.
“Now, are you gonna start? You know this isn’t all we do.”
“I know…” Your words trail off as his fingers press into your skin to encourage you to push your hips back. You move forward to hold onto his thighs, but your eyes eyes still remain on the reflection of his cock inside you. You’re so wet that you’ve soaked his cock down to the patch of dark hair at his base. The small lamp in his room provides little lighting at night, but it’s enough to make his thighs shine from your wetness. You're sure he can feel it, too.
With thighs bracing, you raise yourself up before slowly sink down. The stretch of his cock is sharper than usual, spurred on by the reflection in front of you. Eddie's searing gaze doesn't help either. You catch glimpses of him in the mirror as you bounce on top of him. Up and down, he devours the sight of you struggling to contain him.
His hands tighten around your hips, aiding you as you move on top of him. It’s like you can feel him all the way up between your ribs. The feeling of fullness makes your eyes roll back into your skull. 
“Hey, hey. Eyes open, sweetheart," He trails one hand up to hold your throat. He gives you a light squeeze to tempt you to open your eyes. "You wanted to know why I like you on top. You gotta watch.”
“Eddie–” 
“Just watch, sweetheart.”
You bite down a whimper, but comply with his request. Your eyes peel open to follow his hand down from your neck to rest on your hips once again.
“There you go. Just keep your eyes open. You’ll understand, I promise."
This time you focus on scene in front of you, really focus this time. And it’s…beautiful. Not just where the both of you connect, but everywhere. Everything. You don’t expect this. Watching yourselves like this, you look perfect together. Your bodies are wrapped tight and close, limbs shifting against one another in unison.
Your hips rise in confidence, soft ripples traveling across your flesh, as your bodies move together. 
“F–fuck, Eddie. Okay, get it. I get it!” 
“I knew you would. So smart and so beautiful. And strong. Look at the way you move, sweetheart. It’s like we were made for each other.” 
The amusement in his words has your calf muscles trembling from the effort of keeping yourself balanced and speared on his cock. You barely register one of his hands curling forward and down until his fingertips touch your clit. Your thighs jerk in surprise, the shock of the feeling making your movements halt. 
“Eddie, fuck. I’m gonna cum. I–!” You’re babbling as Eddie plays with your clit. 
“It’s okay,” He groans, as your pussy starts to tighten around him. “I’ve got you. Let go. Just keep watching, okay? This is my favorite part. Don't want you to miss it.”
Electric shocks run through your body as you watch the intimate image of sweaty limbs, trembling thighs, and wrecked expressions.
Messy, dirty, and so fucking addicting.
It’s when Eddie groans your name like it's both a sin and salvation when you finally let go. The heat from your release bursts and melts away any remaining strength in your legs. You collapse backwards, hitting Eddie’s soft chest with a thud. His own movements are quicker than yours, wrapping an arm across your chest to keep you in place as you ride out your orgasm.
As the roaring in your ears subsides, your brain starts to register your surroundings: the yellowing popcorn ceiling of Eddie's bedroom, the sticky sweat coating both your bodies, and Eddie murmuring to you again as he gently rocks up into your spasming cunt.
“Now do you get it? You look so fucking beautiful and I’m a selfish bastard. I wanna keep that view for myself.”
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mobileleprechaun · 3 months
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The Pea
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I'm very hung up on the symbolism of this dish, particularly with how it pertains to Eddie and his episode of severe emotional distress.
Eddie was all alone in his post office when we found him. Although he refused to state this outright, it was clear he was feeling excluded and forgotten by his neighbors. We have often seen him pushed to the margins of the community, only sought out for his utility to the others.
Barnaby openly delights in scaring and tormenting him, Howdy overworks him without sparing a second thought to his needs, Julie only calls upon him when she someone who's easy to drag into a game, Sally refuses to address him by name and treats his attempts at social connection with disdain, Wally and Poppy only have fleeting interactions with him, and Frank hides his burgeoning fondness behind a facade of cordial indifference.
The pea is alone, too, isolated on the stark white backdrop of the plate.
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"Take care not to place them too close together." Even if there are more "peas" at this party, Eddie sits alone in Home's chair, denied the basic creature comforts of intimacy as he watches the others mingle.
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The pea is also a pittance to Eddie. It is presented to him right after Sally's single, small attempt to show him goodwill, which she only bothers to do because it's a holiday.
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She still does not address him by his name. The gesture, the pea, and the seat are all mere crumbs – too little, too late for a neglected outsider who struggles to make sense of the lonely, awful torment of his life in this Neighborhood, one which he cannot properly articulate for fear of sounding ungrateful.
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Home stares him down from his lonely seat. Its presence is monolithic and ominous, a towering figure that only makes him feel more small and alone.
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Is it intruding on his mind on purpose, trying to hurt him? Personally, I don't think so, though it still remains to be seen. His words to Frank at the end are telling, though. "I want to go home."
Whether it means to or not, Home torments him with its very being. It's both the elephant and the room. Eddie is an outsider. Eddie can't remember where he's from. Eddie sleeps in a post office after thanklessly running himself ragged every day. Home is the very reason for this holiday, and Eddie is homeless. It's staring him down because it's a symbol of everything he aches for, but cannot have.
Eddie is the single pea on Home's plate. Take care not to place him too close to anyone else.
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samodivaa · 2 months
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║drool on dog tags║
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Bucky x Reader : They sway in your face during sex... (smut) {request}
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There’s nothing more dangerous than a man with charm—and Bucky looks like a deity—a small smile tips up one corner of your mouth as you look in his eyes which are powder-blue and still rimmed with the longest lashes you have ever seen on a man. His mouth comes down on yours without further warning. Not hard or violently or forcefully. But fully, with complete contact. He comes directly to you, seizing your face between his hands, and capturing your mouth beneath his. “I am going to shower, Bucky" 
"Is that an initiation? We can shower later” 
He cajoles, hoping he sounds convincing rather than needy. Tortuously slow, Bucky licks his lips, rolling his hips fluidly against yours. It’s a struggle to swallow back a groan when you bite his lower lip slightly. You are covered only by a towel, his mind running amuck over what the towel is hiding—sexual perversions mix with lust as his mind sees in scattered images of varying vulgarity. Bucky grips your waist and lifts you off the ground with ease, dropping you softly on the luxurious white linen bed, your body fully exposed to him. You lick your lips at the sight of his broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even a jacket cannot hide. Your eyes continue their upward travel to his strong square-shaped face, framed with short brown hair that falls to his shoulders and deep, blue eyes. He disrupts your thoughts by stripping his shirt off, shorts, boxers—letting only the dog tags trail over his chest.
He then craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. His body hovers above you as he leans down to kiss you. You're perfect when you're underneath him, it's where you belong, beautiful face and pretty eyes lock onto his—your warmth cushioning him, your obedient body lush, your eyes flashing—and all he wants is to ruin you. His lips are once again on your skin, devouring everything he can—licking, sucking, and kissing. He drags his lips up your throat, along your jaw, back toward your mouth before leaning back to let his hips slowly rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, dragging his pre-come up between your lips. You simultaneously release a harsh moan as he buries himself deep with an upward thrust. You are grateful that he doesn't start slow, but slams into you with no remorse, the need for fucking poisoning his mind. Bucky brings both of your wrists above your head and grips them in his metal arm, restraining them from moving—It's a sinful sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. He loves watching it happen. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, his eyes roll backwards as the dog tags make melodious ringing sounds right above your face with every thrust.
“Can you feel my cock slipping in and out…feels good, doesn’t it?”
When you don’t answer in time, he stops and lifts his gaze towards yours. You feel a jolt of some foreign but not unwelcome sensation piercing your body. You look so—slutty. There is something raw and pleading in his eyes that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving—his dog tags continue to whirl in your hot mouth, drool dribbles from your corners on your lips—but your greedy tongue is always ravenous…for anything. It is the dirty, sinful element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be. He pulls out, only the tip remains inside. 
“Don’t-” you whimper desperately. Without warning, he pushes his whole length. He focuses his attention on your lips. His trusts are slow and his stare makes your walls clench around him.
“Don’t stop?” He chuckles softly, voice going deeper as he picks up the pace and fucks you into the mattress, his thrusts only getting rougher. “Is that what you want? Need me to fuck you till you come, baby?” he mumbles, not looking away from your lips, his gaze devouring you.
He has to take a deep breath. He tries to breathe, trying to avoid cumming, but your filthy mouth rips his soul and hypnotizes his brain—and your eyes, eyes that bare into his heart, making his dick twitch. The wet squelching, your shy moans, the way your walls tighten around cock is enough to make him cum. His dick keeps on slamming into you, the sight of his well-muscled body, covered in a thin layer of sweat, invites you to utter depravity, it is what drives you over the edge. You whimper and screw your eyes tight as another wave of pleasure spreads throughout your body in orgasmic tingles as he pulls his own climax with you. He finally presses his face against your neck as his hips lose any and all sense of tempo and when he finally stills, he holds himself deep inside as he leans back—with every breath, your bust heaves, sweat droplets running between them and attracting his gaze.  But what pollutes his mind even more—is when he pulls the dog tags away from your mouth, sticky strands of spit spilling between your lips and the small metal plates as you share collective gasps of breath. Sometimes, to regain sanity, one has to acknowledge and embrace the madness.
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When BSD men have to carry you.
Pairing: Fem!Reader/BSD Men
In this post: ✨Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoyevsky✨
Synopsis; Various scenarios where the BSD men have to carry you in their arms.
Guys should I double space or single space my paragraphs? Let me know…Bro this turned out to be a BEAST! Please requests are open!! Request for bsd or any other character!
Edogawa Ranpo
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You had been walking home with your boyfriend, strolling peacefully as the dying sun elongated your shadows on the empty pavement. Your hand rested in Ranpo’s right hand, his left hand holding a lollipop he was happily licking.
Your eyes were staring at your feet, but your mind was elsewhere, thinking back to day you had spent in the office, more precisely Kenji’s small cousins coming to visit him from the countryside. The very unplanned visit had obviously caused chaos in the already disorganized life the Armed Detective Agency lived (Kunikida had almost died on the spot), but soon everyone started having fun. One precise moment had remained etched to your brain, recalling memories of your childhood you yourself had forgotten: Dazai carrying the little children on his back, twirling them around as they laughed.
The last time you had been carried in someone’s arms was so long ago the memory was fuzzy, and almost non-existent in your brain. Slowly, you wondered if your genius boyfriend would maybe comply to your very childish wish. The words bubbled in your chest, quickly pressing against your lips. You tried to calm down your beating heart, slightly embarrassed, but before you could even utter the first syllable, Ranpo turned to look at you, his eyes glittering in the sunset.
“I’ll do it just because it’s you.”
“H-how did you know what I wanted to ask?” Your boyfriend’s mind never ceased to amaze you.
“I was watching you today at the agency, and I immediately knew what you were thinking when you looked at Dazai.” Your cheeks became an even darker shade of red, and you nibbled on your lip, feeling embarrassment running all over your body.
Ranpo cleared his throat, and you glanced back at him, finding him kneeling in front of you, his lollipop hanging lazily from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a happy giggle flew out of your mouth before you climbed on your boyfriend’s back. He quickly adjusted his hands to hold you more comfortably. “Hold on tight.” He called to you, before standing up.
You gasped, throwing your arms around his neck, and nuzzling your lips against his neck. “Ah, (Y/N)! That tickles!” He whined, making you laugh even more.
Ranpo started walking again, heading towards your home. You were on cloud nine, happily expressing your joy by kissing every inch of Ranpo’s skin that you could reach. “I love you, I love you!” You kept repeating, an idiotic smile practically glued to your lips.
“The things I do for you!” He exclaimed, faking annoyance, even through his heart beamed with joy, knowing he was the one who had made you smile so brightly you were rivaling the sun.
Ryunosuke Akutagawa
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You had been lying down on the couch in Akutagwa’s office for the past hour, patiently waiting for him to finish working on some paperwork that had to be absolutely handed in by the end of the day. You had first come in as you two had planned to walk home, but your boyfriend had quickly explained the situation. Working in the same organization, you understood, and simply pressed a kiss to his pale skin before settling down comfortably, and waiting for him to be done.
As time sluggishly went on, the cozy warmth in Akutagwa’s office and his delicate cologne that permeated everything around you, slowly started to make you drowsy. The constant scratching of his pen against the paper did not help either, and you were soon slipping in and out of consciousness.
Akutagawa finished the last report he had to write, exhaling quietly, a little bit of tension easing from his shoulders. He slipped the lid on his pen, ordering the pages on his desk, knowing his assistant would deliver them as soon as you two would leave. Akutagawa stood up, stretching his back. “(Y/N), I’m done, let’s go…” His words trailed off when he turned to face you, finding you to be adorably sleeping on his couch.
The sight almost melted his heart, before he sadly realized he had to wake you up, even though he knew you had had trouble sleeping last night. He sincerely did not want to wake you up, desiring you to get the sleep you so needed. Akutagawa brainstormed for a few moments, thinking how to solve the issue, before an idea stepped forward: quietly, and delicately, Akutagawa commended Rashomon to slither towards you, picking you up with the most care in the world to not wake you. The dark coils carried you to your boyfriend’s back, placing you vertically against him, so your chest was pressing against his back. The black tendrils wrapped around your torso, safely locking you to Alutagwa’s back, making you become an almost human backpack. Your boyfriend reached to place your limp arms around his neck, and commanded Rashomon to hold your legs against him, so they wouldn’t accidentally drag on the floor and hurt you. And finally, one more coil gently supported your neck, your cheek now pressing against Akutagawa’s shoulder.
He made sure that you were soundly asleep before he walked out of the office, non caring of the other Port Mafia members who glanced at you two, clearly confused. The only unfazed one seemed to be Chuuya, but what could surprise him after years of living with Dazai?
The whole way home, Akutagawa made sure you were always sound asleep and comfortable, timidly holding your hand when he was sure he was very very very far away from the Port Mafia headquarters. When you two were in the elevator in your apartment complex, Akutagawa looked at you through the reflection, feeling his heart flutter when he realized you had started drooling in your sleep. You were truly the most beautiful women in the world.
He quietly shut the door of your apartment. Akutagawa gently laid you down on your bed, making sure you weren’t about to fall off the edge of the bed, before he finally allowed Rashomon to retreat. Just as he turned around to go grab his phone, he felt your warm hand on his wrist. He turned around, seeing you sleepily look at him, your eyes caked in sleep and barely remembered dreams.
“Come lay in bed?” You asked sluggishly.
Akutagawa could not resist. He quickly climbed bed next to you, welcoming you in his embrace, watching as you used his chest as a pillow. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, suddenly wincing. Before Akutagawa could ask what was wrong, you mumbled, “There’s a wet spot on your back,”
Akutagawa could not help the small smile on his face, kissing your forehead. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” You complied, quickly slipping back into slumber, and Akutagawa soon followed, closing his eyes.
Osamu Dazai
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You had spent the whole day walking around Yokohama with Dazai, holding his hand tightly, eating whatever your hearts desired. Your last wish for the day was to go on the Ferris wheel, offering a night view of the twinkling city, making it resemble a field of fallen stars.
The both of you were at the very top of the Ferris Wheel; you were admiring the view, and Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder, observing the view of the city as well. His dark curls tickled your shoulders. “Did you have fun today, belladonna?” Dazai asked quietly, not wanting to destroy the magic of the moment.
“I had the best time of the my life. The only thing that put a blemish on today’s perfection was this skirt.” You pointed to the short skirt you had decided to wear that today.
Dazai glanced down after hearing your words, perplexedly staring at the article of clothing he had quite enjoyed on you: the skirt was beautiful on you, accentuating your gorgeous body. “Why was it a bad choice?” He asked, playing with the hem of it.
“Well, not the skirt in itself, but I usually wear some biker shorts underneath, because my thighs rub against each other and it hurts like a bitch! And I forgot them today!” You quickly hitched it up to show Dazai the reddened skin between your thighs. “And today’s heat did not help. Every step is an agony.” You admitted, hastily shoving your skirt down when you realized the ride was coming to an end.
Dazai chivalrously helped you out of the Ferris wheel, holding onto your arm. He noticed how you subtly tried to waddle instead of walking, not wanting your thighs to brush together again. “Bella, seeing you in such a dramatic situation makes your poor boyfriend’s heart bleed!” He dramatically stated, over exaggerating every word.
You chuckled. “I, your valiant boyfriend will sacrifice my knees for you.” He called, quickly kneeling in front of you.
“Are you sure, Dazai? I don’t want to hurt you…”
“My dear, you could never hurt me.” Dazai smiled at you, looking over his shoulder. You blushed, finally deciding that you could not walk anymore, and you gratefully climbed on his back, pressing a kiss to his head and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”
Dazai adjusted his hands to hold you comfortably and started walking home. “Am I not a gentleman, (Y/N)?” Dazai asked, turning to look at you and wiggle his eyebrows.
“Well, I am not so sure.” You laughed.
“Oh! You doubt my honor? For what reason, my lady?” Dazai whined.
“Well, I don’t think a gentleman would use this opportunity to touch my ass.” Dazai’s hands had been initially supporting your thighs, but his elegant fingers had soon slid further back, deciding to hold your butt, and you were sure that had not been just to carry you better.
Dazai tsked loudly. “T’is simply the fare to pay for this unique transport system.” You laughed, letting your head rest against his broad shoulders.
The rest of the walk home was peacefully, the two of you talking about random subjects. When you got home, Dazai gently rested you on the bed. “Do you want me to apply cream on the irritated skin?” He asked, starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes, please.”
Dazai quickly grabbed some Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom. You had removed your skirt, and were now lying in bed in just one of Dazai’s old shirts and your underwear.
Dazai knelt in front of your legs, quickly and efficiently applying the cream to all the irritated areas. After finishing, you pressed a kiss to his lips to thank him.
“Hey, (Y/N),”
“Yes?”
“Since you can’t close your leg until the cream has dried, can I eat you out?”
“Dazai!” You screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Your boyfriend ducked just in time.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! You’re lying there with your legs spread so enticingly!”
You threw all the pillows you had on the bed at Dazai’s head, and yet, somehow, he managed to have his way, keeping your legs spread way long after the cream had dried.
Doppo Kunikida
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The day had been spent with the rest of the Armed Detective Agency at the beach, splashing in the water, running around and chasing each other in the water. You had built a sandcastle with Atushsi and Kyouka, sun-bathed with Dazai, and had taken strolls along the shoreline with your boyfriend, Kunikida.
You were currently helping Kenji and Rampo make another sandcastle, while Kunikida held a book in his hand, sitting in the shade. He wasn’t reading the book, too focused on watching you laugh and giggle, the story in front of him long forgotten. The sun was slowly descending, disappearing behind the thin line of the horizon.
Slowly, every member of the Agency had retreated to their rooms, and now only the four of you remained, wanting to enjoy every moment left in the dying day.
Kunikida glanced down at his watch, stretching his neck, and thinking maybe it was time to head home, leaving the day at the beach to became a memory. “(Y/N)!” He called, waving his arm to catch your attention. You turned around, smiling. Kunikida gestured to his watch, and you threw a thumbs up in his direction, quickly waving goodbye to Kenji and Rampo, before sauntering over to your boyfriend. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before you started helping him pack your towels and the various books the two of you had brought to the beach.
Holding one bag each, you started the walk back to the hotel, feeling the warmth of the cement underneath your flip-flops. “Today was so fun!” You squealed, sliding your hand in Kunikida’s.
“It sure was.” He answered back, threading your fingers together.
“I think my favorite part was when Dazai managed to convince the president to lie down in the sand and then made him a mermaid tail with the sand!” You giggled, also recalling Kunikida’s exasperated expression when he had caught Rampo trying to eat a snack that had fallen in the sand.
Kunikida chuckled. “It was a fun day today. We should take more holidays together.” He thought, already starting to meticulously plan the next one in his head.
You nodded, a sudden wave of exhaustion scaling your back and implanting its fangs in your head. Kunikida started mentioning other destinations that would be fun to visit, but your throat suddenly felt parched and your head boiling. You didn’t hear his words, the world starting to melt into confusing figures around you. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have been yanked away from you.
You managed to whimper Kunikida’s name before your legs gave up and you tumbled to the ground. Kunikida turned around, his smile evaporating when he realized your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and you were fainting. The bag he was carrying toppled to the ground and he dove to catch you, holding you in his arms.
“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He asked, fear gripping his insides.
“Don’t worry, Kunikida. I think it’s just heatstroke. I did run around underneath the blazing sun for most of the day.” You chuckled dryly, trying to not worry your perpetually panicking boyfriend.
Your words did little to help Kunikida, who started digging through the bag closest to him, trying to find a water bottle he knew was there, his mind already flooding with self-deprecating thoughts because he had not thought about making sure you wouldn’t catch heatstroke.
Knowing your boyfriend, you could read his thoughts reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and gently squeezed his hand. Kunikida turned to look at you, water bottle in hand. “My darling over-thinker, it’s fine. This is not your fault.”
Kunikda gulped, nodding curtly, before opening the bottle and helping you drink half of it, pouring the rest on your head to help you cool down.
You waited a few more moments, resting in Kunikida’s lap before nodding. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” You tried to stand up, but before you had even managed to place one foot perpendicular to the ground, Kunikida had wrapped one arm around your back, and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up in his arms. You gasped, holding onto his neck.
“Kunikida! What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched him start walking.
“I am not making you walk when you are in these conditions.” He said, not wanting you to get even more tired. Seeing you collapse had already made him lose thirty years of his life; he didn’t need a repeat.
“But Kunikida, darling, I’m fine! I’m not that sick! And I’m too heavy for you!” You rambled, trying to get down. Your wiggling only made Kunikida hold onto you more tightly. The moment you uttered the last sentence, Kunikida stared at you, clearly waiting for you to take back what you had just said.
You pouted, realizing you could not win this fight. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him take care of you.
The minute you got back to the hotel, Kunikida laid you down on the bed, raiding the mini fridge for ice, and gently placing it on your wrists and ankles. Only when you were lying in bed, slowly gaining back the sparkle in your eyes did Kunikida feel his heart stop beating a thousand times a minute, and let himself collapse on the bed.
Let’s just say, for the rest of the holiday, you were basically dragged back into the shade by Kunikida every 30 minutes.
Yukichi Fukuzawa
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The evening was finally over; you had spent the whole night at a charity event held by the most powerful people in all of Yokohama. Your boyfriend, being Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency, had to attend, and to make his evening a little bit more bearable, he had asked you to accompany him.
The night had been relatively fun, talking to various people and enjoying some expensive champagne. The only tense moment was when the two of you had stumbled on Mori, who for some reason, was there as well. Luckily, no fight erupted between the two men; they curtly nodded at one another and then moved on with their own affairs.
The best part of the evening, for you, had been when they had played some slow, romantic music, and invented everyone to dance with their partners. You had enjoyed swaying in Fukuzawa’s arms, getting lost in his eyes. But you were paying the price now, your feet aching at every step in your stiletto heels. Every step feeling like shards of glass stabbed your already aching skin.
You and Fukuzawa were heading home, but every step was torture, a grimace carving itself in your face. “My dear, what is wrong?” Fukuzawa asked, his deep voice momentarily distracting you from the pain.
You glanced at him, your heart fluttering when your eyes caught his handsome face glimmering in the moonlight. You nodded down to your feet, lifting your dress’ skirt slightly to reveal your two personal torture machines. “My heels: they’re killing me.”
“Would you like to take them off?” Fukuzawa asked, glancing down at your black heels. He had never worn any type of heeled-shoe, but could imagine what they felt like.
“I wish, but I can’t walk home barefoot.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“What? No, Yukichi, I can’t let you carry me! Our house is far.”
“(Y/N), every step you have been taking these last few minutes makes you visibly wince in pain. I cannot let the woman I love suffer so.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, and couldn’t help but thank whichever divinity had gifted you this man. Using his shoulder for your balance, you slipped off your high heels, immediately becoming way shorter. You grimaced in pain when you noticed the shoes had managed to create various blisters on your feet. Your right foot had been more unlucky, raw skin visible in the silver light, and even a few trickles of blood.
Fukuzawa gently kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your feet. You saw concern paint his eyes, and his lips pressed a soft kiss to both your ankles. “You should have told me sooner,” he scolded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
You nodded shyly, knowing he was right. You bent down to retrieve your heels, holding them with the tip of your fingers.
As soon as you straightened your back, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa’s warm hands hold you, before you were hoisted into his arms, suddenly finding yourself to be almost kissing your boyfriend’s lips. You blinked, using your free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I thought you would carry me on your back,” you admitted, not complaining that Fukuzawa had decided to carry you in his arms instead. You could feel his warm, and solid chest against your body, making you feel safe and cared for.
“I already get to see you so little, I would like to spend the rest of the night with your beautiful face in my line of sight.” Fukuzawa said, glancing at you warmly. You leaned forward, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips, knowing that Fukuzawa wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA. But this one time, your silver-haired partner, kissed you back, mirroring your passion, the moon’s inconsistent light shielding you from any unwanted attention.
You pulled back from the kiss, leaning against his shoulders, getting lulled by his rhythmic breath.
When the two of you got home, Fukuzawa immediately tended to your feet, disinfecting the wounds, and wrapping them with bandages, before the two of you cuddled underneath the blankets to fall asleep.
The next day, Fukuzawa seemed to hover around your desk more than usual, making sure you could walk without problem and did not need to be carried. You told him not to worry.
At the end of the day, Kunikida looked outside the window of the Armed Detective Agency, and quickly looked away, seeing his president pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whisking you into his arms.
Nakahara Chuuya
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Chuuya downed the remaining champagne in his glass, chuckling alongside with Koyo. The Port Mafia Christmas party was in full swing around the two of them. The buffet had been adequately raided, and Chuuya noticed quite a few people drunkenly wobbling around. Higuchi was heavily leaning on Akutagawa in the left corner of the room. He knew that you were somewhere around the room, having fun with your friends. Chuuya had only spent a few moments with you, pressing a kiss to your hand before leaving you: being an executive, he terrified the rest of your friends who were of a greatly inferior in rank. To let them enjoy their evening, he had stepped aside.
Koyo poured some more champagne in his glass, the melted, golden liquid sloshing around the delicate glass. “This champagne is real good,” Chuuya chirped happily, suddenly feeling a tap on his sleeve and turning around. Tachihara was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his chest.
“(Y/N) needs you.” He pointed his finger behind him, gesturing to your current location. “She’s shit-faced drunk and is just calling your name.” After having done his job, Tachihara walked away, joining Akutagawa.
Chuuya sighed, setting down his glass. The remaining champagne called to him, but he had to go. “Sorry, Koyo. Boyfriend duty calls.” He waved goodbye to his companion, start to head in between the crowd to find you.
As soon as people noticed that it was Chuuya, one of the most powerful executives, they quickly moved away, letting him through. But alcohol had rendered their reaction time significantly lower, and Chuuya still struggled.
“If we get attacked now, we’re fucked.” He grunted, after he had managed to push past a huddle of people who had formed a dance line and had somehow managed to run into itself, creating chaos. Chuuya adjusted his hat, scanning the purple couches that had been set around the room for the party: you had been there, the last time he saw you.
Your twinkling, beautiful laugh reached his ears over the cacophony in the room, like a siren song luring him. He followed the sound he loved so much, and finally reached you. You and your friends were sitting where he had left you. Your table was littered with empty bottles of various alcoholics, some of them open, and languidly dripping on the tabletop. Most of your friends were snoring, passed out, but a few them resisted stoically, dancing, or more wobbling clumsily, to the music. You were sitting on the couch, your cheeks red with alcohol, your hair beautifully disheveled, and singing along to the song with slurred words.
Chuuya stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours. “Princess, I heard you were looking for me.” You turned around, hearing your boyfriend’s voice.
“Chuuya!” You called, your happy voice almost reaching a supersonic level. Without warning, you hooked your finger in his belt, dragging him down to the couch with you. Chuuya had only the time to blink before you climbed in his lap, straddling him. “I missed…*hic*…I missed you!” You giggled, poking his cheek continuously.
“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Chuuya asked, adjusting your skirt so nothing would be revealed to anyone in the room around you.
“I don’t know!” You smiled lopsidedly at him, suddenly feeling sleepy now that your boyfriend was here. You almost fell backwards, Chuuya bringing you back against him in time.
“Okay. That’s it. We’re going home.” Chuuya decided, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover would shatter all plans he had to go ice skating with you.
You were so tired, and the room was spinning so rapidly around you that you nodded, wanting to go home. But you still had one more playful spark inside your chest. “But you have to carry me!” You whined, gripping your boyfriend tightly.
Chuuya caressed your clothed back, sighing. You were adorably cute when you were drunk. The feared port mafia executive was putty in your hands, and he adored every moment of it. Using his ability, Chuuya made you lighter in his arms, starting to walk with you clung onto him like a drunk, but beautiful koala. You giggled happily, inhaling your boyfriend’s musky cologne, and feeling lulled to sleep by his rhythmic walking. Your fingers traced heart shapes on his vest, humming a nonsensical song you were making up on the spot.
The sleepy silence of the deserted street was suddenly broken by a loud laugh that escaped you, scaring Chuuya. “What’s so funny, doll?” He asked, his heartbeat slowly calming down.
“I just realized that I love you to the moon and back!” You singsonged, smushing Chuuya’s cheeks together. Your boyfriend stared back at you, nothing but love glimmering in his eyes.
“I wuv y’too.” He managed to mumble through his squished cheeks, his heart almost on fire with joy. A gorgeous smile decorated your face, and you looked as gorgeous as an antique painting, before you suddenly collapsed against his chest, snoring loudly.
“Doll? What? You can’t just declare your love for me and then start sleeping!” Chuuya called, trying to shake your arm. But you had said what you needed to say, and was now happily in dreamland, sleeping peacefully in your boyfriend’s arms.
Chuuya realized waking you was impossible, and decided to press a kiss to your forehead, instead. He pulled you closer in his arms, enjoying the stroll through the moonlit Yokohama with his drunk koala safely in his arms.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
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You had been lying in bed for a few days now. Your throat ached, as if someone had sandpapered it, and your nose had become red from all the tissues you had used. Your body temperature was acting weird, swinging from absolute boiling to absolute freezing. Right now you were freezing, gripping the duvet around you with your trembling fingers.
Your boyfriend, Fyodor, had been staying away from you to avoid getting sick, his anemia not providing a strong enough shield for him to be there. He did come in the room a few times, wearing a mask, but bringing you food and water, and caressing your forehead.
Your teeth were chattering from how cold you felt, and with a sudden whine, you realized that the heater had accidentally gone off in your room, rendering it even more freezing. You tried to convince yourself that you could get out of bed and walk the few steps to the heater. With an inhumane effort you, you dragged yourself up to a sitting position, immediately falling into a brutal couching fit.
When you opened your watery eyes, you noticed Fyodor was sitting on the edge of the bed. You immediately covered your mouth. “Fyodor, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice broken.
“I could hear you coughing from the other room, milaya.” He called, a cold finger caressing your cheek. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you were being a burden to your permanently busy boyfriend.
Fyodor quickly read what you were thinking in your body gestures, and decided that actions would cure your scared heart more than his words. He slowly approached you, lifting a chin and pressing a kiss to your nose. Your already flushed cheeks became even redder. Fyodor then slowly cradled you into his arms, feeling your quivers shake his body as well. He grabbed the duvet, and threw it over your body, making sure you were safely encapsulated in its warmth, before picking you up.
“No, Fyodor, I don’t want to tire you out and then make you sick,” You protested meekly, weakly trying to push yourself away from his body.
“You’re freezing, milaya.” Fyodor stated, pulling you closer to himself. He expertly avoided your question, not wanting to admit that hearing you sick, and alone, in the other room had slowly destroyed his heart. The shards had slowly blossomed into the realization that he would not mind getting sick, if he could just hold you against himself while working. But he would never admit it.
You were too weak to try and convince him, happily giving up and allowing yourself to rest in your lover’s embrace as he sat back down in his office chairs, returning to work. You adjusted yourself, trying to get comfortable, accidentally uncovering your feet. Fyodor immediately tucked you back in, not wanting you to feel an inch of the cold air on your skin.
It wasn’t rare that you slept in Fyodor’s arms while he worked, his scent lulling you into a deep slumber. Your blocked nose was preventing you from smelling anything, and you shifted around his lap helplessly.
Fyodor blocked your movements. You stared up at him, slightly afraid that he would kick you out for disturbing him. Instead, Fyodor gently pulled you against himself, making sure you were comfortable, but starting to hum a quiet, Russian lullaby.
You instantly calmed down, your eyelids becoming heavier. Your body felt at peace, the shivers no longer wrecking your body. Right before sleep dragged you under the surface, you slipped your hand in Fyodor’s and pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled against his chest, starting to snore adorably.
Fyodor could not help but gaze lovingly at you, singing the Russian lullaby till he was sure you wouldn’t wake. And only then, did he lean down and kiss your lips, murmuring a quiet, “I love you,” to your ear.
Nakajima Atsushi
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Your weretiger boyfriend had thrown himself down the Armed Detective Agnecy stairs when Kunikida had told him you were coming back from a mission and had severely twisted your ankle. He was now anxiously pacing in front of the building, waiting for you.
When your taxi stopped in front of him, Atsushi almost ripped the car door off, worry sinking its claws in him. You smiled weakly at him, clearly very much in pain. “Hey darling,” you called, trying to calm Atsushi down, because he was clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown: his eyes were wide, his chest heaving, and he immediately ducked down to wrap you in his strong arms, irrationally fearing you might die from a twisted ankle.
You held him close to you, whispering that you were fine, and nothing was going to happen to you. When Atsushi’s heartbeat had steadied enough for him to not crumble on the ground crying, you pulled away from him, anchoring your left hand to the car door to slowly, and carefully slip out.
You put one foot down on the ground before Atsushi intervened. He would not let you walk on your foot, for no reason at all. He leaned down, and easily picked you up in his arms, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you would slip out of his hold and hurt yourself even more.
As Atsushi carried you, you dragged your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp to further relax the panic that was tainting his gaze. The ironclad grip he had on you slowly loosened once he was in the elevator. “My knight in shining armor,” you giggled, caressing his chin.
“My love, please, please be careful from now on,” He whispered, looking at you with eyes that almost made you start crying. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. And in the moment of peace, neither of you noticed the elevator door opening, signaling you had arrived to your destination.
You did, however, hear Kunikida shouting his head off because Dazai had accidentally poured coffee on his notebook. You and Atsushi giggled quietly, sharing one more chaste kiss before entering the chaos that was your office.
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
Text
Double-edged Sword
Summary: Miguel knows he has to let you go before you can be his. But it’s not that simple. Especially when you keep on testing his limits…
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 2.2k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Soft/inexperienced reader. F*ngering.
Part 1 (if you're just starting out) - Previous part
By the time Miguel rose from his slumber, he was met with a pair of curious eyes glaring at him.
"You snore."
A sleepy yawn worked its way out of his throat as he lifted his wrist to assess the time. It was still fairly early in the morning, and he allowed himself to relax against your soft pillows.
You were on your side, both hands tucked under your head, and your trademark sweet smile curling your lips.
"Did you sleep well?"
Miguel nodded, mustering the will to sit up against the bed rest. He soon realised he had fallen asleep on top of the comforter with just a blanket covering him, whereas you were nicely tucked inside your bedsheets.
A distinct barrier between you two.
He looked down at you through sleepy eyes, wishing he could plant a soft kiss to your temple.
You looked so peaceful and it brought a sense of calmness to him as well.
"I was thinking of meeting Tom today.." you began, as you flopped onto your back. "Think you can get someone to cover for me? Just for a while?"
And just like that, Miguel's stomach turned uncomfortably. "Today? Already?"
Your head turned to him. "Why? Do you think I should wait? Do we have something important today?"
"Maybe you should wait a little longer," he said with a sigh. "Take some time to figure out the best approach."
"I've been waiting for months... I just... I really need this," you whispered, now facing away from him.
In reality, Miguel knew there wasn't much he could say to deter you from this. He couldn't really blame you from wanting to set things right with someone who meant so much to you.
He would have given everything to be able to get that opportunity with Gabriella.
However, the less rational side of him was seething with jealousy. After all, you had revealed you had feelings for him.
But what truly fueled his escalating jealousy was what had happened last night. The kiss, him touching himself in front of you, and you touching yourself in front of him. Intimacy had engulfed you both so unexpectedly, that he wondered if it had been a mistake.
He dreaded that thought, so he promptly pushed it away.
"Sure. Take your time."
You then shifted to sit next to him, your shirt briefly clinging to your breasts, letting him know you were braless.
Of course.
He groaned inwardly at the sight of the small protuberances on each nipple.
And you caught him staring, arching a brow in amusement. "Want to see them again?"
He cleared his throat and shook his head. The last thing he needed now was a raging boner.
But it seemed that you were hellbent on torturing him, so when you got on your knees, briefly crawling to him, and finally settling on his lap, he knew he was fucked.
You were wearing nothing but a shirt and sleeping shorts, and when you looped your arms around his neck, he instinctively closed his eyes, bracing himself for yet another erection.
He had expected you to lean in for a kiss, but you remained still, eyeing him with utmost interest.
"This place can be so isolating," you sighed.
Miguel gripped your hips, adjusting you back to prevent having you seating on his crotch.
"Nueva York is overflowing with spiders, yet you still feel so lonely, you know?"
He did know.
It was lonely at the top.
While many spiders had relationships of their own and managed to build their lives around them, Miguel had nearly forgotten how used to being alone he had gotten.
"So you feel lonely here?"
You seemed unsure. "I have you to keep me company, though I figure that doesn't really count. you were forced to babysit me when I forgot got here."
"I wasn't forced to do anything," he corrected, slightly frowning. "I saw the potential in you and wanted to harness that."
Your fingers were absentmindedly caressing the nape of his neck. "I feel really comfortable around you."
That caught him slightly off guard.
"I never thought I'd be able to reveal that secret to anyone... you whispered, shifting to sit on his growing erection. "And last night.."
The not knowing was killing him. On one hand, he was scared to find out that it had been nothing but a hear of the moment thing, but he yearned for more than that... and that part of him needed to kn more.
"Was is because of loneliness, then?"
You pressed your lips tightly together.
"Well, I suppose loneliness gets the best of us, eventually," he sighed, trying his best to seem as casual as possible. "Sometimes, using your hand just doesn't quite do it."
At this, you widened your eyes, before averting your gaze. "It wasn't because I felt lonely... I... I just... you're really attractive and.."
Miguel decided that was enough.
He brought his hand to the back of hour neck and pulled you closer until your lips grazed along his.
"Can I kiss you?"
You swallowed, pressing yourself down on him. "Do you always get this.. excited so easily?"
He gripped your chin between his fingers, tilting your head to have your eyes meet his. "Only for you."
It was a simple confession mixed with desire, but it was enough to startle you.
Fuck.
You leaned back as if snapped from a daydream. "Do you mean that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"
Miguel took a deep breath. "I mean that, and you can feel it," he proved his point with a roll of his hips.
You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut and mouth dropping open.
His sweet girl was so, so responsive...
Instinctively, you tried to match the sway of his hips, but it felt clumsy and Miguel brought both hands to your hips, gripping them tightly.
Your breaths were coming out shaky as he guided you on his clothed cock, guiding you on how to move your body alongside his.
"Does that feel good?" he asked seductively.
"Yes..." you gasped. "I... I'm.."
Miguel felt the first beads of precum drip from his tip. "You're what?"
Your hands came to grip his shoulders, and you took a deep breath before one of them slid down to your
body.
Miguel immediately knew what you meant, but he intended on having things go differently this time.
" can do that for you... he offered, gripping your wrist gently, as your fingers prepared to slide inside your shorts.
You bit your lip, eyes still squeezed shut. "You have to...”
"I want to," he said firmly.
Nodding, you brought your hand up to his shoulder again, and he took the chance to gently slip his fingers past the waistband.
You immediately shuddered and leaned to rest your face against his neck.
He trailed down carefully and his cock twitched once he reached your clit.
"Is this okay?"
You moaned in response, wrapping your arms around him.
Your clit was already swollen and Miguel felt his fangs threatening to drop once he began to slowly roll the pad of his finger around it.
It didn't take long until he felt your wetness seeping through the layers of fabric and staining his suit.
"Please... Miguel..." you groaned, now jerking your hips against his touch.
He began to drag your wetness along your folds to coat your clit with it. You were soaked for him, your body already working on preparing you to take his COCk.
But he would have to be gentle.
He would have you riding his fingers first.
"Please what, sweet girl?" he cooed, planting a kiss to your temple."
You answered by trying to have his finger slide down to your entrance.
So eager...
"Can you take one finger?"
You halted your hips and took a few seconds to nod.
"I can take it..."
He could cum just from your shaky voice and how much you craved him.
As one finger reached your opening, he felt you tense up lightly.
"I'll be gentle," he promised, tracing the sensitive spot. "Tell me to stop, and I will."
"Don't stop..."
He pressed yet another kiss on your flushed skin, and slipped the tip of one finger inside, feeling you immediately squeeze around him.
Miguel realised that if he were to be your first, he would be utterly fucked. The way you gripped his fingers with your walls nearly tipped him over the edge. He couldn't imagine how ridiculously good it'd feel to have his cock inside you instead.
"Try to relax.."
And you did try.
Until his thumb pressed down on your clit.
Your hips immediately bucked into him, encasing his finger inside you until he was buried knuckle-deep.
"Easy..." he growled, his fangs emerging right away from the overload of sensation.
He doubted you'd be able to take another thick finger of his, so he settled for having just one sliding in and out, drawing the sweetest gasps from you.
"You're doing so well.." he praised.
You rolled your hips instinctively, fucking yourself on his finger as best as inexperience allowed you.
"Take... take your... suit..." you pleaded, clawing at his chest with one hand.
The digital layer vanished down to his waist. He didn't want set his cock free or he would cum in an instant.
Then, he saw you roll up your shirt with trembling fingers, exposing your breasts.
He nearly came rigth there and then.
But nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to do.
You desperately brought your pierced nipples to graze against his bare chest, slowly raising your before sinking down around his finger.
Miguel was now certain that you would be the death of him.
He felt your wetness dribbling down his hand, but kept a steady pressure on your pulsing clit. With each undulation of your body, he was able to feel the cool metal of your piercings digging into his skin, and couldn't fight back the growl that emerged from deep within him.
As expected, he was embarrassingly close, and needed to do something about it.
"Lift your hips."
You groaned in response, stilling for a moment.
"Wait….. why?"
"I'm close.."
You slowly clenched around his finger, and his hand came to grip your hip tight.
"Too close..
The beginning of a pout settled on your face, but you did as requested, finally putting a stop to the near excruciating pleasure he was feeling.
Now he could focus on you.
You buried your face in the crook of his neck to anchor your with each flick of his finger and with each sway of your hips.
"Are you okay?"
You didn't answer, but he could tell from your erratic breathing that you were nearing your peak. Your whimpers increased in intensity, as you clumsily rode his finger, chasing after your bliss.
The sound of his watch beeping broke the rhythm for a second, but Miguel ignored it.
As long as no canon event was involve, he wouldn't shift his attention from you.
It beeped again.
But you were so close.
"I... I think I'm.."
He didn't need your words, your body language spoke to him in ways he didn't know he craved.
The movement you started convulsing against him and tightening your grip around his neck, he knew you were coming undone. Your walls clenched around his finger as the orgasm tore through your body.
Another beep, which Miguel ignored again.
Miguel allowed himself to enjoy your tightness, realising you would need far more preparation than this if you were to take his cock.
Your legs were shaking slightly, as he kept pressing the pad of his thumb against your pulsing clit.
But what really made his cock twitch was the way you kept mumbling his name in between sobs, eventually slumping against his chest.
He slowly withdrew his finger, earning a deep sigh from you.
<CANON EVENT IMMINENT: ANOMALY DETECTED>
Miguel's heart nearly burst out of his chest from the unexpected announcement, and you jolted into him, still descending from your peak.
Instant bones killer.
Much against his will, he brought himself to suit up and carefully set you aside on your bed with a kiss pressed to your forehead, before jumping to his feet, quickly clicking through his watch.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled hurriedly, glazing at you as he neared the bedroom window.
You were a panting mess, but quickly tried to gather yourself. "Don't apologise. Just go."
He hopped onto the window sill and took a deep breath, throwing you a final glance. "TIl find you once I'm done."
"You don't have to... I have to do this on my own."
He nodded. "Don't deactivate your mic."
Your straightened your shirt before sitting on mattress. "Miguel... it'll be fine."
"Do as I say."
You eventually nodded.
He hated having to part from you, but his duty came first, and he couldn't step away from it.
Not even for his sweet girl.
"Lyla, summon squad 12, and give me the readings on the anomaly."
Before swinging into the cool morning air of Nueva York, Miguel saw you crossing your legs and stare at him with those sweet eyes that he was so addicted to.
But he would be there for you again.
He would find you.
And he would make sure your devotion would he his.
Not Tom's.
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Once Miguel was done with the canon disruption, he threw himself into a portal to get to you.
Your mic wasn't working, and your bio readings weren't available, and he could only assume you had switched off your watch.
Luckily, he had checked Tom's file before deleting it as you had requested.
He knew exactly where to go.
The sun had began to set on the horizon, engulfing the city in shades of orange that helped mask his movements across the innumerous rooftops. He refrained from using his web often, as the laser-like flashes would draw too much attention.
So he took it to jumping and clawing his way up the steep walls of the building opposite to where he lived on all fours, already being able to pick up some interference coming from your mic.
You were close.
"... you want me to leave."
Miguel reached the metal railing of an emergency exit, and balanced himself on it, feeling his heart stammering against his chest.
"You're so good at that, so go ahead."
From there, he was able to spot you in his apartments, near a window. He caugjt a glimpse of Tom and immediately decided he hated him.
He was scowling deeply at you, arms crossed, and words sharp as knives.
How dare he?
His claws were digging into the railing, and Miguel felt droplets of venom spill from his fangs.
This Tom individual wasn't even attractive to begin with, so he figured your previous attraction to him had to based on something else.
"You hurt me! You cannot do this and expect me to pretend nothing happened."
Clearly not based on personality.
Your voice was so low, Miguel was barely able to make it through the mic. "Tom... it was also hard for me..."
Miguel was visibly seething at this pint, wishing he could just drag you out of there. You deserved better than someome who didn't bother listening to you.
"Please leave."
There was a long pause and Miguel held his breath, not wanting to miss out on your reply.
"Don't do this..." you whispered, and he could hear the sadness in your words.
It was itching him to put an end to it.
But...
Deep down, Miguel knew you needed this. Closure. Even if things didn't go as you had hoped, you had tried your best to remedy this situation.
His heart hadn't wanted you to go visit Tom, but his mind spoke differently. He had to let you go to him, to have you as his.
A double-edged sword.
"You left me for months. Ignored me for months. You don't get to do this without a decent explanation," the idiot went on, further angering Miguel. "And since you don't want to tell me the truth, I want you gone."
This time, you cleared your throat and stormed out of the room, not exchanging another word.
Miguel considered dealing with Tom in his own way, but you came first.
He plunged from the rooftop and into a deserted alley, pacing quickly to meet you as you exited through the door, zipping up the hoodie that hid your suit underneath.
Miguel called after you, but you didn't turn to face him.
"I don't want to talk, Miguel."
Not wanting to be spotted by some passer-by, he urged you to walk into another alley.
"I heard some of it," he said softly once you were both out of sight.
You pressed your back against the wall, looking absolutely defeated. It was almost criminal that someone like you had to ever feel this way.
"You did what you could," he went on, placing one hand on your shoulder. "Maybe one day he'll understand."
Miguel didn't want him to be near you ever again, but he had to comfort you somehow.
You lowered your gaze and fixed it on a small puddle of water at your feet. "I deserve this."
"You do not."
"I don't want your pity."
He shook his head. "You won't have it."
In fact, he was willing to give you his heart if you'd take it. But he wouldn't dare say that out loud. Not in this moment.
He waited for your to make a move, but you remained quiet.
"Let's go back to Nueva York," he suggested, placing one hand on your shoulder.
You sobbed softly, and he saw a couple of teardrops drip from your face.
He just couldn't bear seeing you like this, so he took a step closer and you quickly wrapped your arms around him.
"Thank you... thank you, thank you..." you kept on repeating in between sniffles.
He held you tightly in absolute adoration and devotion. "I'm here for you."
"You're a great friend, Miguel..."
Friend.
That word made his heart sink violently.
"Just as a friend?"
There it was... his obsession for you creeping in.
You pulled away from his grip, teary eyes narrowing at him. "Oh... with benefits?"
That was somehow even worse.
Your face twisted into something else as you patted your face dry. "What do you want from me, Miguel?"
Anything.
Everything.
"Anything you're willing to give me," he said truthfully.
Maybe he shouldn't have been so straightforward, but he was merely answering your question. He didn't want to lie, and didn't want to go back to having to hide how he truly felt.
"I don't know if I can give you much more than this."
Your words lingered in the air after hitting him hard and he felt as though his body had been plunged into freezing water.
"Why?"
Your gaze wavered and you began chewing your lip. "Because I don't know if I'm ready for anything serious..."
Miguel straightened to his full height. "Anything you can give me... I'll take it."
He sounded desperate, and deep down he knew that it was probably working against him. Being intimate with you only could only satisfy him for so long if nothing was to come of it.
As much as his body yearned for you touch, his heart was seeking something that wasn’t skin-deep.
"Can I ask for something?"
Anything.
Everything.
He would give it all to you.
You cleared your throat. "I need time."
He could definitely work with that.
However...
"Do you... like being with me?" Miguel carefully asked. "And I'm not talking about being with me like earlier today." Your fluttering orgasm was proof enough.
Your eyes widened and he could tell you had not expected his bluntness. "Of course I do... I... just need time."
He pressed his lips together into a fine line. In truth, he didn't want to be just friends with you. He didn't crave that level of human connection. He needed much more than that from you.
"You only want me as a friend."
It wasn’t a question, and it sounded more like an accusation.
Was he being fair with you? Was he being fair with himself? These questions kept on looping inside his head, but his emotions had a stronger hold on him.
"I trust you," you said in a whisper. "I don't trust people easily."
That did ease some of the uneasiness within him, but he still wanted more. The grip of his obsession for you was tightening around him viciously, and it was getting harder for him to keep it at bay.
"Maybe I want more than that."
"Miguel..."
He leaned in, bending his head just enough for his lips to almost meet yours, searching for the comfort of your warmth.
He could feel you slipping through his fingers again.
You turned your head lightly and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek instead.
His eyes fluttered shut, and the dreadful feeling that you were parting from him suddenly overcame him.
"Maybe you should go back..." you said after parting from him. "I'll stay here for a little while..."
"Because of Tom?" he could feel the poison dripping from his words.
You shook your head vehemently. "Because of me."
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Part 7
Masterlist
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vsimp · 10 months
Text
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say something (song drabble) - inspo
word count: 2.9k
pairings: alhaitham, ayato, childe, xiao, zhongli/morax (x reader)
genre: angst/hurt/no comfort
summary: they lose you
Warning: presumed death/injury of reader, mentions of blood
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Alhaitham x "I’m giving up on you"
Arguments with no happy endings. Rough words that could never be taken back or forgotten.
Alhaitham was the true definition of stubborn.
It was “rationality,” as he so called it. He liked to say things as it is, and there was no need to include your emotions into these conversations, as they influence your motives and produce bias.
Technical, yet cold and harsh at the same time, Alhaitham would leave no room for arguments when he knew that he was in the right. To even validate your feelings would be impossible for him because that was who he was; an intuitive scholar who knew wisdom beyond his years.
Then when was his wisdom too much for others to bear? Was there truly such a thing as too much knowledge?
He couldn’t even fathom such an idea.
And as he argued with you, his mind only thinking of rationality, reason, logic, and analysis, he deliberately ignored the way your tears streamed down your cheeks, how your hoarse voice broke as you cried about your relationship with him.
He then doubted himself for ever thinking he could get into a relationship. Hah. Something like this could never work out again. You both were just too different, or so that was what he’d tell himself as you both slept in separate rooms that night.
But as the house grew emptier and emptier, as you moved all of your stuff out, taking every single thing in his home that made it feel like… an actual home… he grew strangely uncomfortable.
Even as he looked back to that day of the argument, he knew he was right, and that your worries were of no substance. But why did your expression shake up his heart? Why did you make his chest ache? And why did he suddenly feel so empty all of the sudden?
The questions were answered very soon, after every single one of your items have been removed from his house.
And it was at that moment when Alhaitham realized that his house no longer felt like home. And then he realized the true reason for those inexplicable emotions, as he found the present he gave you during one of your birthdays. It was a promise ring, adjourned with your favorite gemstone. He remembered how you loved it so much that you would never take it off your finger.
Yet here it was, left on a note with one simple word.
“Goodbye.”
That was the day when he figured out quickly that even if he had all the knowledge in the world, nothing else could have mattered more, for as long as he had you, he would be the happiest man in the universe. It was a severe lapse in judgment on his part, and a true mistake that he so bitterly had to realize far too late.
He had lost you. You had given up on him.
He had nobody else to blame but himself.
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Kamisato Ayato x "I’m still learning to love"
As the head of the Kamisato Clan, Ayato always had to remain vigilant at all times. He had to prepare for any worst case possible while also trying to actively prevent it from happening. It was the reason why he wore a mask around everybody who he knew.
He feared that if he were to let his guard down, revealing what truly laid underneath the mask, they would take advantage of his vulnerabilities and strike down everything he was ever trying to protect.
And that was the reason why he never trusted you, his own spouse. He had agreed to a marriage with you quite easily, as your family had something he wanted, and in exchange, he would take your hand in marriage, thus binding you and your family tree to the prestigious Kamisato Clan.
Ayato had assumed the worst about you, as your family had not given him the best impression either.
As he got to know you, however, he found that you were beyond his expectations. You were kind, compassionate, and intelligent. You did everything you could so that the clan and the Yashiro Commission could thrive.
You comforted him on the days when he truly was stressed out from all of his work, took on his pain as if it were yours. Not only were you beautiful, but you made him feel as if everything was going to be truly okay in the end, so long as you could give him that smile.
He almost admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with you.
Yet, a silly ploy from your family, one of spite over the fact that you were thriving in such a place, had ruined your marriage into shambles.
Ayato had lost his trust in you. Your family had planted false incriminating evidence, one that insinuated that you were plotting the downfall of the Yashiro Commission. You weren’t able to defend yourself, and you asked him if he really thought you were the type of person to commit such atrocious acts.
His eyes wavered for a moment at your question. But the "you" in his memory grew fuzzy as the thought that everything he was trying to protect was being jeopardized, that he shouldn’t throw everything he’s built over a mere spouse. That you were one of the people trying to harm him and his family.
That night, he muttered cold words to you. As if you were never even considered part of his family at all. As if all of those memories you two once shared never mattered. You were but an outsider to him at this point.
Since the diplomats of the Yashiro Commission grew suspicious of you, pressuring him to take action, he threw you out of the household that day. Perhaps he never loved you as much as you thought he did.
With no place to go, you ran out of the estate with only some small mora and clothes.
The estate remained cold without your presence there. No longer would he be surrounded by your brightness. But a traitor wasn’t worth mulling over, or so that was what he kept telling himself as he constantly found himself looking beside him, where you would usually be.
It wasn’t until a month later did his sister Ayaka uncover the truth. She and Thoma were the only people who believed in your innocence. She presented it to Ayato, and for the first time ever, he had never seen his sister so angry at him.
Regret and guilt washed over him immediately. What had he done? He had truly messed up. But he didn’t know that it was all a ploy, and he was just trying to protect the Yashiro Commission. Surely, you would understand. Right?
His heart ached for his lover as he ran all over the streets to find you. Ayaka had told him where you had been staying. He wasted no time to get there as soon as he could.
Ayato couldn’t forget the way those cold eyes of yours looked at him. He tried to apologize, but you just gave him a look of disappointment. It was like a slap to his face, a harsh wake up call as reality hit him. Maybe if he had trusted you more, maybe if he had trusted in his own love for you more, this would have never happened.
And yet, here you were, in the middle of a ragged, old inn that you could barely afford without the help of his sister, your clothes worn out as you had been doing everything by yourself the last month, and your cold eyes that no longer held the same love and affection for him as before— he knew that there were no more chances for him.
You slammed the wooden door shut in front of his face that day.
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Childe x "I will swallow my pride / you’re the one that I love"
“You don’t understand. This is my job as the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. My only duty is to serve the Tsaritsa. I can’t always be there for you.”
Those were his cold words that pushed you away. He was too blind to see what was truly in front of him at the time.
Childe strived for strength. He enjoyed fighting you, as he felt that you were both equal in terms of strength, and that he could grow in power with you. But that was all he saw you as—a sparring companion.
So when you started to hope for more, he instantly grew detached. It was like walking through a narrowed tunnel, where the only thing he saw was his goal.
There were no emotions as you confessed your love to him. An apathetic gaze that shook your emotions to your very core. It was only then that day when you realized that the heart you wanted to capture was unreachable. He had built icy walls that were impenetrable.
So you decided to give up on him.
Childe didn’t think too much of it. You were just a battle partner to him anyways.
He told himself that, but why did his heart ache when he recalled your tears? Why did he suddenly feel empty now that your presence was no longer there?
The silly jokes you’d tell him, the delicious food you would cook for him, the smile you’d give to him, and him alone— you were no longer there to provide that comfort that he had missed from being so far away from home for so long. Perhaps he had even started to see you as his home outside of Snezhnaya.
He realized that all of this time, he really did love you. He loved you so much, yet he was too caught up in his beliefs to realize it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, to start a family with you, to have and to hold you until eternity has reached its end.
So he set down his pride, put aside his duties to the Cryo Archon temporarily, and he went to see you that day. And unfortunately, it had been too late.
You were smiling at another man, and he had lost you. And then he realized the true extent of the pain you felt that day when he had broken your heart.
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Xiao x "anywhere, I would’ve followed you"
Xiao would never admit that he needed a companion in his life. It was his fate, his contract with destiny to serve and protect Liyue for the rest of his life, even if it cost him his very own.
He always isolated himself from the mortals, like a lonesome Qingxin blooming at the highest stone peaks. He looked down from height above, but never got too deeply involved with the matters of the mortals. It was only time, however, when somebody decided to climb those mountains and pluck him off the ground.
A hindrance to his daily affairs, and a nuisance whenever you followed him around, he knew it was his fault for forming a contract with you.
If you called his name, he would come. That was what he promised you. Be it for serious matters, whenever you needed his help with something, or for something more trivial, such as having a simple meal with you.
It was irritating to be called so frequently, but he was a man who kept true to his words.
It wasn’t until one day, you had made his favorite almond tofu dish and then called him over. It hadn’t even been a whole day yet since you’d last called for him, and you were already wanting to see him.
He had enough at this point. You couldn’t get any more involved with him. After all, he had always been alone for the last 3,000 years, and the karma he has to bear living with is too much for any regular mortal to handle. He needed to push you away.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than invite me over for something as trivial as this?” He would say coldly, not even wanting to sit down at this point. “I don’t want to spend any time with you. I truly loathe people who force others to do activities that they don’t even want to do.”
His words were much harsher that day. Although a part of him did feel bad, he needed to do this. He had to, that’s what he told himself. It didn’t bother him when you started choking into tears, nor did it bother him to see that heartbroken expression that lingered on your face.
“I just wanted to spend time with the person I love.” Your voice cried out painfully as you attempted to walk closer to him. “I would follow you everywhere, through everything and anything! You just have to let me in to your heart, Xiao!”
“Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now? I will never love a mortal like you.”
The rejection was clear as day. He didn’t love you back. All of the time he has spent with you, the way he held you up gently after fighting some monsters, his small smile when you made him almond tofu for the first time; those memories were all rendered meaningless as he cut you open with his words.
But somehow, you knew this would happen. Your eyes looked defeated as you stared at him right then and there. You gave him a heart wrenching smile, which was a look that puzzled him the most.
He could never forget the look on your face. With eyes that stained with tears, and a beautiful, forced smile, Xiao knew that this was finally the end.
“I understand. Goodbye then, Xiao.”
He shut his eyes as you disappeared from his sight. It was inevitable that you would leave that day, yet the discomfort originating from his chest would not disappear.
Yes, this was something he had to do, no matter how painful it was, no matter how attached he was getting to you.
You never called him after that for a while. He thought it was a blessing, but somehow, the silence made it even more eerie. Like a singular piece of jigsaw that was lost amongst a thousand pieces of a puzzle.
"Xiao…” he heard you say after some time had passed. A weak voice. He knew something was wrong.
There, he found you. Laid in a puddle of crimson red. Everything was in slow motion at this point to him. He wasn't even able to assess the situation before he had pulled you immediately into his arms, calling out your own name in worry.
There was no response.
Thoughts of anger and regret washed through him, just like the heavy pouring rain that diluted your blood, like thunder that roared through the lands out of despair.
That day, he realized that this was the last time you would ever call his name.
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Zhongli x "I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you."
The Geo Archon was a magnificent entity, one that inspired awe and respect from many individuals. You were but one of them who admired—no, more like adored him.
You fought alongside Morax in many battles to protect Liyue. It was your pride and joy to help with this almighty god.
But as often as you tried to pursue his affections, wanting Morax to look at you and you only, his gaze never seemed to find yours.
With a look gentler than any soft breeze in the plains of Liyue herself, you had never seen such an expression from him. He looked at Guizhong with such a tenderness, even dedicating a beautiful song on the lyre for her, bringing her glaze lilies to bloom from such a lovely song. You wondered if you could ever compete with such a beautiful goddess like her.
Your hands were tainted in blood, the malice of monsters and demons leaving scars all over your hands and arms. Your words were rougher with others, as you belonged on the battlefield, compared to the wise and kind-hearted God of Dust.
You were distracted more than usual one day, and you were injured quite badly in a battle with monsters. With blood pouring from the side of your rib cage, you immediately went to Morax to seek help. You could feel his divinity from miles away, and when you arrived to the area he supposedly stayed, your heart ached as he held Guizhong’s cheeks so gently. It hurt worse than any wound that you have even sustained.
You couldn’t help but drop your weapon. The loud clang echoed through the courtyard, and that was when the man had finally and actually looked at you.
Shock had laced in his golden eyes, his hands dropped down from her cheek to his side as he had realized the state you were currently in.
Your eyes had started to glaze over, tears pouring down your cheeks as you felt your own heart break. Your emotions were so strong, yet so ugly, that even the plants had started to wilt around you. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so you immediately turned your back away from him.
“Y/n, are you okay?!” His voice shouted as his footsteps drew closer to you, but your cold voice cut him off.
“Don’t take a single step towards me, Morax.”
He paused, unsure of whether or not to continue forward judging from your tone. Even as your blood seeped to the ground, staining the earth and dyeing the flowers around you a crimson red, you remained turned away from him.
You walked away from your unrequited love, ignoring his calls and pleas as he asked you to come back so he could treat your wounds.
You shut your eyes, enveloping yourself in the darkness.
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