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#felt embarrassed to be in the room with all that tension
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Tangled Love (Charles Leclerc x Female Reader)
Genre: Angst, Smut Word count: 6,5k
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Picture this: Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc. The Main Driver for Scuderia Ferrari. Il Predestinato (The Predestined). Probably one of the hottest dudes on this spinning sphere we call Earth.
But here's the kicker: the only woman he's got eyes for? Yeah, she's got a ring on it. And not just any ring, mind you – it's a rock big enough to make even the Pope do a double take. Like a neon sign flashing “off-limits” in bright, blazing letters. Charles, the man who's used to getting what he wants with the flick of a wrist and the bat of an eye, finds himself at a loss. Irony, thy name is Charles Leclerc.
The atmosphere in the Scuderia Ferrari briefing room crackled with tension, like the air before a lightning storm. Y/N, the PR powerhouse, stood at the front of the room, her aura radiating authority.
“Alright, team, listen up!” Y/N's voice sliced through the tension like a hot knife through butter. “We're in a pickle, folks. The whole world's losing its marbles over Lewis Hamilton joining us, and poor Carlos is feeling more tossed aside than a soggy pizza crust.”
But as Y/N laid out the game plan, Charles found himself in his own world – a world where Y/N was the main attraction. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, his mind drifting into a fantasy where they rode off into the sunset in his Daytona.
Y/N's voice snapped him back to reality, and he quickly tried to focus on what she was saying. “Charles!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Charles! We're counting on you to deliver the right story here.”
Charles blinked, realizing he'd been caught red-handed – or rather, red-faced – ogling over Y/N instead of paying attention. “Uh, right, sorry!” he stammered, cheeks burning.
But try as he might, Charles just couldn't shake the image of Y/N from his mind. Every word she spoke seemed to dance around him, his brain too busy composing love sonnets to focus on the task at hand.
As Y/N outlined the key points for the press conference, Charles tries nodding along. On one hand, he knew he had a job to do, a role to play in shaping the team's narrative. On the other hand, there was Y/N, with her captivating smile and her hair that seemed to shimmer like the sunlight bouncing off a Ferrari's hood.
It was like a battle between his head and his heart, with Y/N emerging as the clear winner every time. But as the briefing came to an end and the team began to disperse, Charles couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. He knew he had let his feelings get the best of him, but somehow, in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.
After all, who could blame him for being distracted by the most beautiful woman in the room?
Just as Charles was lost in his Y/N-induced daydream, a sudden rush of hot breath against his cheek snapped him back to reality. He blinked in surprise, finding Y/N standing inches from his face, her eyes boring into his with laser-like intensity.
“You have no idea what you're supposed to say, do you?” Y/N's voice was a mixture of amusement and exasperation, like a teacher addressing a particularly clueless student.
Charles felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. It was like being caught playing with his mother’s professional scissor back when he was just a little boy.
“Um, well, you see...” Charles began, his words stumbling over each other.
But Y/N cut him off with a wave of her hand, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. “Save it, Charles. We both know you've been distracted this whole time.”
Charles felt like shrinking into his seat, wishing he could disappear into the plush upholstery. It was bad enough to be caught ogling over Y/N like a lovesick teenager, but to be called out by that very same person? It was enough to make him want to bury his head in his helmet and never come out.
Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. “Alright, Charles,” she said, “if you can't get it together, you're going to have to redo media training with me. And trust me, you do not want that.”
Charles felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought of spending more time with Y/N, but in a different context – one where he was the one on the hot seat, being grilled like a sausage at a barbecue. It was enough to make him contemplate deliberately messing up just for the chance to have some one-on-one time with her.
But as Y/N shot him a warning glance, he quickly pushed the thought aside. He couldn't risk sabotaging the team's efforts just to satisfy his own selfish desires – no matter how tempting the prospect might be.
“Got it,” Charles replied, his voice a tad too eager as he tried to shake off the distracting thoughts swirling around in his head. “I'll make sure to keep it together.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow skeptically, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “You better,” she said, her lips quirking up into a half-smile. “Or else you'll be stuck in media training purgatory with me.”
_________________________________________
In the midst of the chaotic press conference, with journalists firing questions like they were in line of fire, Charles found himself sitting front and center, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Thankfully, Fred was beside him, fielding most of the questions like a pro.
Charles let his gaze wander to the back of the room, where Y/N sat perched like a hawk, her eyes darting back and forth as she made notes here and there.
As if sensing his gaze, Y/N looked up and their eyes locked. Charles felt a surge of warmth spread through him as he watched her expression soften, her lips curving into a supportive smile. She mouthed “You're doing great” to him, accompanied by a thumbs up, and suddenly, Charles felt like he was on cloud nine.
Her simple gesture was like a shot of adrenaline straight to his ego, making him preen like a peacock and sit up straighter in his seat. If Y/N thought he was doing great, then by golly, he was going to knock this press conference out of the park – or at least, avoid striking out like a rookie at bat.
With renewed confidence, Charles turned his attention back to the journalists, ready to face whatever curveballs they threw his way. After all, with Y/N's encouragement spurring him on, there was nothing he couldn't handle – not even a room full of nosy reporters with more questions than a toddler on a road trip.
Just as Charles was basking in the glow of Y/N's encouragement, a journalist launched a question at him. “Charles, how do you feel about Lewis joining Ferrari? Are you excited to have him as a teammate, or are you secretly relieved to see Carlos go?”
Charles felt a nervous chuckle bubble up inside him, threatening to escape. He quickly clamped down on it, plastering on his best poker face as he searched for the perfect diplomatic response.
“Well, you know,” Charles began, his voice smooth as silk but his mind secretly racing, "I think having Lewis join the team is a fantastic opportunity for all of us at Ferrari. He's a proven champion, and I'm sure we'll all benefit from his experience and expertise.”
Beside him, Fred shot him a surprised glance, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. Charles couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his own performance – who knew he had it in him to spin a diplomatic answer faster than his pit crew when changing his tires?
“But,” Charles continued, his tone carefully neutral, “I'd be remiss if I didn't acknowledge Carlos's contributions to the team. He's been a formidable teammate, and I wish him all the best in his future endeavors.”
The journalists nodded along, seemingly satisfied with his response, and Charles felt a wave of relief wash over him like a cold drink on a hot day.
But of course luck would try him again.
Another journalist decided to put him on the spot once more, “Charles, in your opinion, how would Lewis fit into Ferrari since he has been with Mercedes for so long?”
Charles blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question. It was like being thrown a curveball when he was expecting a straight shot down the middle – unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome.
“I think Lewis will bring a fresh perspective to the team, having been with Mercedes for so long. His experience and expertise will undoubtedly be valuable assets as we work to push Ferrari to new heights.”
He paused, trying to gather his thoughts before continuing. “But,” he added, his tone becoming more animated, “I also think it's important to remember that Ferrari has its own unique culture and traditions. Lewis will need to adapt to our way of doing things, just as we will need to adapt to having him as part of the team.”
Beside him, Fred nodded approvingly. He may not have all the answers, but he was determined to make the most of this opportunity – for himself, for the team, and maybe even for Y/N, who was watching him with pride.
_________________________________________
Y/N sat at her desk, scrolling through the social media updates about the press conference. Just as she was about to dive into the latest Twitter thread, she heard a knock at her office door.
“Come in,” Y/N called, her attention shifting from her screen to the doorway.
In shuffled Charles. “Hey, Y/N,” he said timidly.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking up into a wry smile. “What can I do for you, Charles?” she asked, gesturing for him to take a seat.
Charles hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting around the room. Finally, he took a seat opposite Y/N, his gaze drifting once again to the glinting diamond ring on her finger.
He cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I just, you know, hang out here for a bit?”
Y/N raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Hang out here? Why?” she asked.
Charles shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, uh, I'm just trying to avoid... well, everyone, really. With this whole Lewis-Carlos fiasco, it feels like everyone's out to get me.”
Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his candid admission, the sound echoing through the office. “You're not wrong there,” she said, her smile warm and reassuring. “But don't worry, Charles. You're safe here. No one's going to hunt you down in my office.”
Charles let out a sigh of relief, sinking back into his seat. “Thanks, Y/N,” he said, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You're a lifesaver.”
Y/N waved him off with a casual flick of her hand. “No problem, Charles,” she said, her tone light and breezy.
Charles found his gaze drawn to the framed pictures adorning her office walls. Among them, a picture caught his eye – Y/N and her husband, captured in a moment of bliss. It’s a holiday picture taken during winter break. Courchevel, if Charles has to guess.
Jealousy seized his heart like no one’s business. He scoffed, mind racing to find a way to ease his own insecurities. “Pfft,” he muttered to himself, “what does he have that I don't?”
Charles began to mentally compare himself to Y/N's husband. “Sure, he's a good looking man with an excellent career in Finance," he mused, “but has he ever won a Grand Prix? I don't think so.”
As he continued his self-evaluation, Charles couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of his own thoughts. Who was he to compare himself to Y/N's husband? After all, they were two entirely different people – one a world-class racer, the other a... well, a guy with nice hair and green eyes.
With a final shake of his head and a rueful grin, Charles turned his attention back to Y/N. After all, he may not be perfect, but he was Charles Leclerc – and that was pretty fucking close.
He mustered up the courage to break the silence with a seemingly innocent question. “So, how's the husband?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
Y/N's head snapped up. “Pardon?” she exclaimed, confused by the sudden interest.
Charles scrambled to play it off with a nervous chuckle. “Nathaniel, right? I was looking at your holiday picture, you know, the one with the... snow. Was that in Courchevel?”
Y/N wasn't buying it but she answered anyway. A small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “You have a good eye,” she said. “That one was in Courchevel. Nate's family has a chalet there – we try to go skiing whenever we can.”
Charles continue the conversation, his curiosity getting the better of him. “So, how did you two meet?” he asked.
Y/N's eyes took on a nostalgic gleam as she reminisced. “We actually met back in university.”
Charles felt a wave of relief wash over him – at least it wasn't some epic romance straight out of a Hollywood movie. But his relief was short-lived as Y/N continued her story.
“We both attended King's College,” Y/N explained, her voice tinged with fondness. “I was majoring in Digital Media & Culture, and Nate was studying Economics.”
Charles felt his stomach churn uncomfortably, a sour taste rising in the back of his throat. Digital Media & Culture? Economics? It was like the universe was conspiring against him.
As Y/N continued to recall about her university days, Charles struggled to maintain his composure. “That's, uh, fascinating,” he managed to choke out. “He is a proper smart dude, isn’t he?”
He fought to suppress the urge to vomit – both figuratively and, unfortunately, literally – Charles couldn't help but wonder whether he could do something to make Nate disappear of the face of the earth so that he could take his place.
“Why have I never seen him coming to any of the races?” he asked again.
Y/N shrugged, “His job keeps him pretty busy. And truthfully, Nate's not really into motorsport. He's more of a... horse guy.”
“Horse guy?” Charles echoed.
Y/N nodded, “Yeah,” she confirmed, “he much rather attend the Royal Ascot. You know, where he can watch horse racing and hobnob with royalty.”
He felt a surge of disbelief wash over him – Nate was more interested in horse racing than Formula 1 races? It was like finding out that the Pope preferred pizza to communion wafers.
Charles couldn't help but chuckle at the image of Nate, decked out in his finest attire, sipping champagne and placing bets on which horse had the fastest trot.
“But hey,” Y/N continued, her voice light-hearted, “to each their own, right? As long as he's happy, that's all that matters.”
Charles nodded in agreement, a grin spreading across his face. “Fair enough.”
_________________________________________
Charles had just wrapped up a strategy training session. His mind buzzed with new tactics and race scenarios as he made his way down the dimly lit hallway toward the exit. He was eager to get home, unwind, and perhaps indulge in a quiet evening of solitude.
As he neared the fire exit, Charles noticed a lone figure standing against the wall. The dim lighting cast soft shadows on her face, but he recognized her immediately. It was Y/N. Her eyes were closed, and the tension in her mouth was detectable, even from a distance.
He hesitated, debating whether to make his presence known. He didn't want to intrude on what seemed like a rare private moment for her. But just as he was about to turn away, Y/N's eyes fluttered open and found his. For a moment, neither of them moved
Charles took a tentative step forward. “Y/N?” he called softly.
She straightened up, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Hey, Charles. Done for the day?”
He nodded, studying her face. “Yeah. Just about to head home. Are you okay?”
Y/N let out a small, humorless laugh. “Fine, just… decompressing a bit.”
Charles walked closer, his concern growing. “You look like you could use a break.”
She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “It's been a long day. The whole Lewis and Carlos situation is more complicated than I expected. And handling all the PR fallout… it's exhausting.”
He leaned against the wall next to her, their shoulders almost touching. “I can imagine. You’ve been doing an incredible job, though.”
Y/N turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face for sincerity. Finding it, she offered a genuine, albeit weary, smile. “Thanks, Charles. That means a lot.”
There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment before Y/N suddenly spoke up, her voice bitter. “You know, I was actually supposed to grab a bite with Nate tonight. We had reservations and everything.”
Charles looked at her, concern etching his features. “What happened?”
“He cancelled. Sent me a text saying he has a new project that requires overtime. Typical, right?”
Charles frowned. “That sounds frustrating. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Yeah, well, I should be used to it by now. Nate’s job always comes first. Guess I’m just second place in that race.”
Charles felt anger on her behalf. He hated seeing her like this, feeling so undervalued. He saw an opening to comfort her, to let her know she wasn’t alone.
“Y/N,” he began softly, “you deserve better than that. You’re an incredible person, and anyone who doesn’t see that is a fool.”
YN's eyes glistened with sadness, something that Charles does not see often because of how good she is at doing her job. “Thanks, Charles. But it’s hard not to feel… I don’t know, insignificant sometimes.”
Charles took a step closer, he position himself a good distance beside her. “You are anything but insignificant. You hold this team together, and you make a difference every single day. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise. Even your own husband.”
Y/N looked down. “I'm so sorry, I don't know why I am burdening you with all this.”
He offered her a reassuring smile. “Please, don't worry about that. I am just happy that you trust me enough to tell me this.”
Charles wanted to do more for her, to show her how she is supposed to be treated. “Well, since Nate’s busy, why don’t we make the most of that reservation? I promise you’ll have a great time.”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, then a genuine smile spread across her face. “Are you really offering?” and Charles gives her a confident nod before offering his arm.
Charles could see the tension in her shoulders easing, and it made him happy to know he had helped. His heart doing somersault as she slowly latched her hand onto his arm.
_________________________________________
As the evening progressed, Charles couldn’t help but notice how her smile became more genuine, her laughter more frequent. He reveled in the sound, determined to keep it going.
“Thank you, Charles,” she said, her voice soft as they finished their meal. “I really needed this.”
He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Anytime, Y/N. You deserve to be happy. Don’t forget that.”
She squeezed his hand in return. “I won’t. And thank you for reminding me.”
When dinner is done, Charles and Y/N stepped out of the restaurant, the night air cool against their skin. They walked towards his Pista, laughing about the evening's conversation and enjoying the light-heartedness that had replaced the earlier tension.
Of course Charles has also offered to drive her home.
When they arrived at her building, Charles parked the car and turned to her. “Home sweet home,” he said with a smile.
“Thanks again for tonight, Charles. It was really… wonderful,” she replied, her voice soft.
He felt a surge of warmth at her words. “Anytime, Y/N. Seriously.”
They both got out of the car, and as Y/N reached for her keys, Charles decided to take a sip from his water bottle. In his typical smooth style, he attempted to do it with one hand while holding the car door with the other. Unfortunately, his coordination failed him spectacularly.
Water splashed all over his face, drenching his shirt and even a good part of his pants. He stood there, dripping wet, his mouth open in surprise.
Y/N turned around at the sound of his splutter. Her eyes widened, and then she burst into laughter. “Oh my God, Charles! What did you do?”
Charles, now looking like a drowned cat, tried to laugh it off. “Just thought I'd cool off a bit,” he said, attempting to wring out his shirt with little success.
Y/N walked over, still giggling. “You look like you’ve been caught in a rainstorm.” She took in his soaked appearance, biting her lip to suppress more laughter. “You can’t drive home like that. Come on, I’ll lend you something of Nate’s.”
Charles hesitated. “I don’t want to intrude…”
“Nonsense. I’m not letting you go home looking like this,” she insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the building.
Inside her apartment, Y/N led him to the living room and handed him a towel. “Stay here, I’ll find you something dry to wear,” she said, disappearing down the hallway.
Charles toweled off as best he could, chuckling at the absurdity of the situation. When Y/N returned, she was holding a pair of Nate’s sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Here, these should fit you.”
He took the clothes gratefully. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”
She waved off his thanks. “No problem. The bathroom’s right there if you want to change.”
Charles made his way to the bathroom, taking a moment to appreciate the decor of Y/N’s apartment. He quickly changed into the dry clothes, which were a bit too big but infinitely more comfortable than his drenched attire.
When he returned to the living room, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him in Nate’s oversized clothes. “You look… comfortable.”
Charles struck a pose, attempting to look suave despite the baggy clothes. “I make anything look good, don’t I?”
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Sure, if you say so.”
They both sat down on the couch, and Y/N handed him a cup of tea. “Figured you might want something warm after your little… mishap.”
Charles accepted the tea with a grin. “You’re too good to me, Y/N.”
They sipped their tea in companionable silence for a few moments. “You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “this turned out to be one of the best nights I’ve had in a while. Even with the water incident.”
Y/N smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Me too, Charles. Me too.”
As they hold each other's gaze, the room seemed to heat up. Y/N watched as Charles's gaze dropped to her lips, sending an electrifying thrill through her. They both hesitated, caught in a moment of uncertainty, as if waiting for the other to make the first move.
Charles saw Y/N start to pull back, and he couldn't let the moment slip away. He put his cup down and gently took hers from her hand, placing it on the table. He moved closer, watching for any sign of rejection, but found none. Her body language spoke volumes—she was gravitating towards him, drawn in by the same irresistible force.
“Y/N,” Charles whispered, his voice a seductive murmur. He traced gentle circles on the inside of her hand, deliberately avoiding her wedding ring, as if weaving a spell around her. He was so close to fulfilling the dreams that had haunted him for so long. Just a few more steps and she would be his.
Y/N's breath hitched as Charles's warm breath fanned across her face. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, the world outside fading into oblivion. Charles leaned in, his lips a mere whisper away from hers.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and filled with longing.
Y/N's breath caught in her throat. "Charles, I'm married. We shouldn't be doing this."
Charles, ever the confident bastard, smirked. “Then where is your husband, Y/N? I don’t see him anywhere.”
She hesitated, the bitterness from earlier returning. “He’s not here.”
“Exactly,” Charles murmured, his thumb tracing her jawline. “He’s not here, but I am. He’s the one who’s missing out on you, not me.”
Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. The way he looked at her, the intensity in his eyes, it was hard to resist. “Charles…”
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. Peppering her with butterfly kisses that makes her toes curl.
His words were like a drug, intoxicating and hard to resist. Her resolve wavered, her heart and mind at war. “This is wrong,” she whispered, but even as she said it, she found herself leaning closer to him.
Charles’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. “It doesn’t feel wrong, does it? It feels right. Like this is where we’re supposed to be.”
She closed her eyes, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his voice overwhelming her senses. “Charles…”
“Let me make you feel good, Y/N,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over hers. “Let me remind you what it’s like to be wanted. Just give me one night, that's all I ask for.”
The last of her resistance crumbling. She leaned in, her lips finally meeting his in a kiss. Charles moaned and deepened the kiss, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer.
He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice filled with adoration. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Charles chuckled softly. “Believe it, Y/N. Tonight, you’re mine.”
They kissed again, this time with more urgency, their bodies pressing against each other. Charles's hands greedily roamed her back, pulling her even closer. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, matching the frantic rhythm of his own.
Charles pulled back just enough to whisper breathily, "Ask me to stay, Y/N. Tell me how much you want this."
Y/N moaned deliciously between kisses, her hands clutching at his shoulders. "I'm going to hell for this," she murmured, her voice a mix of guilt and desire. "But God, I want this so bad. I want you so bad, Charles."
Her words were like a spark to dry kindling, igniting a fierce blaze within him. He kissed her again, more fervently, his hands tangling in her hair. “Then let me give you what you want,” he whispered against her lips. “Let me leave my marks on you.”
Y/N's breath rattled, her body arching towards him. She felt his lips trail down her neck, nipping and sucking, leaving a path of fire in their wake. Her fingers digging into his shoulders as she surrendered to the heavenly sensation.
Charles’s hands moved to the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly as his lips continued their descent. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire.
Y/N shivered at his words, her skin tingling wherever he touched. “Charles,” she breathed, her voice a plea. “Please.”
He pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside before capturing her lips again. He is a starved man, and her the forbidden apple. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every inch of her skin. Y/N’s head fell back, a soft moan escaping her lips as he kissed down her collarbone. Leaving behind a few love marks that she would discover the next morning.
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. Charles helped her, shrugging out of his shirt and tossing it aside. Bodies now pressed together.
Charles' hands slide down to her hips, pulling her closer. “Tell me how much you want this,” he demanded against her lips, his voice rough with desire.
“I want this, Charles. I want you,” she breathed, her voice trembling with need. “Leave your marks on me. Make me yours.”
His eyes darkened, a predatory gleam in them. “How sweet of you to beg, chérie. Such music to my ears.”
The bedroom was dimly lit, casting a soft glow over the tangled sheets and the entwined figures upon them. Y/N’s moans filled the room, mingling with his breathy groans, their need for each other driving them to the brink.
The realization of where they were flashed through Charles's mind briefly, but it was quickly drowned out by the overwhelming need pulsing through his veins. He wanted her, needed her, and nothing else mattered in that moment. Nate be damned.
Charles descended with a trail of kisses along her body. Using only his teeth, he playfully removed her panties, drawing a gasp of delight from her. With a devilish grin, he looked up at her before tracing a long, tantalizing lick along her pussy.
Y/N's body twitched as Charles's tongue sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her body. "Fuck, Charles," she gasped, her voice desperate, "please that feels so good…"
"Please what, mon ange?" he teased, his voice a low murmur against her skin. "Tell me what you want."
Her fingers tightened on the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric as she arched her back, seeking more of his touch. "I want… I need…"
With each flick of his tongue, each teasing nip of his teeth, she grew more desperate, her body humming with anticipation. "I want to come, please," she screamed out, her voice a breathless plea. "I need you to make me come."
Driven by her urgent plea, he zeroed in on the spot that elicited the most delicious responses from her, his touch deliberate and calculated to push her to the brink. He slipped a finger inside her, the sensation sending her into a frenzy and got her seeing stars. He whispered words of encouragement, his breath hot against her skin, promising to take her higher, to make her lose herself completely in the pleasure he offered.
Each thrust of his finger pushed her closer to the edge, her world narrowing down to the delicious ache of desire burning within her.
As Charles felt her climax building, he intensified his movements. And then, with a shuddering cry, she shattered, her release washing over her in a powerful wave of sensation that left her gasping for air.
Charles watched in awe as she squirt, her body trembling as she released a torrent of fluid, coating his hand in her essence. The sight only fueled his desire further, igniting a primal hunger within him.
He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting her with a hunger that bordered on reverence. Savoring the sweet taste of her on his tongue. He can feel his own cock twitching.
Y/N's eyes remained closed in a state of bliss, her senses overwhelmed by the lingering waves of pleasure still coursing through her. But suddenly, the sound of Charles unzipping his pants and discarding them carelessly snapped her back to earth. With a sense of urgency, she forced her eyes open, her gaze fixing on him.
The sight before her sent another jolt of desire coursing through her veins. Charles stood before her, his cock on full display, his skin flushed with arousal. With each pulse, each throb, his desire seemed to ooze from him. Pre cum dripping down, taunting her to have a taste.
With wide eyes reminiscent of a doe's, she crawled towards him, determination shining through her gaze. "Let me return the favor now," she murmured.
Charles's pupil widened in anticipation as she took him slowly into her mouth. She circled the tip with her tongue, each touch drawing out guttural moans of pleasure from deep within him.
"Merde," he cursed under his breath, the words spilling out in a fervent stream of French expletives as ecstasy washed over him in waves.
"Yeah, chérie, right there." Charles encourages, his voice strained as he thrust into her mouth. Forcing her to take more and more of him.
Her hands explored every inch of him, fingers trailing along the firmness of his cock before delicately cupping his balls. With a gentle yet firm grip, she massaged him, reveling in the way his breath hitched and his hips arched in response to her touch.
Charles's head fell back, his eyes closed in blissful surrender, as waves of pleasure surged through him. The intensity of her ministrations was intoxicating. He has never felt anything like it. And Charles knew that he is doomed from this moment on. Nothing would ever compare.
"God, how did Nate ever pry himself from this bed?" Charles muttered with disbelief. "You're like a dream, Y/N. A damn heavenly dream."
Y/N's laughter reverberated on his cock, drawing yet another loud moan from him. He is putty in her hands, or in this case, in her mouth.
As the tension built within him, Charles's fingers instinctively tangled in Y/N's hair, gently guiding her away from his throbbing length. Y/N's puzzled gaze met his, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow as she searched his eyes for answers.
"Why… why did you stop?" she queried, her voice a soft whisper laced with uncertainty, her lips still tingling.
With a tender smile, Charles shifted his position, maneuvering Y/N until she lay beneath him, her body flush against the sheets, awaiting his touch.
"I want to feel you," he confessed, his voice husky with desire as he positioned himself above her, aligning his cock with her pussy. "I want to come inside you."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words.
With a wicked gleam in his eyes, Charles teased the slick folds of Y/N's aching center with the swollen head of his cock, relishing in the way her breath hitched with each teasing stroke.
"You want me to fill you up, mon ange?" His voice, thick with desire, dripped like molten honey as he toyed with her, his grin wolfish.
Y/N's body writhed beneath him, her hips arching in desperate need to meet his.
"Fuck, Charles, please," she gasped, her voice raw as she pleaded for him to take her.
With a low growl, Charles surged forward, burying himself deep inside her with a harsh thrust that stole her breath away. Not even giving her time to adjust to his size because he knows that she is already a dripping mess. Her pussy would accommodate his cock just fine.
Slick with sweat, Charles's muscles flexed with each powerful thrust. The intoxicating scent of sex filled the air as he relentlessly pounded into her, his cock hitting all the right spots with unerring accuracy.
Tears of ecstasy welled in her eyes as she surrendered herself to him. Desperate for more, Y/N's trembling hand found its way between her thighs, her fingers slick with her own arousal. With a gasp, she circled her swollen clit, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her already overstimulated body.
"Fucking hell, chérie, you like that? You like it when I fuck you like this?". With each thrust, he drove her closer to the edge, relishing in the way her body quivered beneath him.
"Yes, Charles, God, fuck me harder," she moaned, her voice fueled his desire even further.
With a madman grin, Charles's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her close as he whispered into her ear, his words dripping with sinful intent. "You want it rough? You want me to ravage you until you're begging for mercy?"
Y/N whimpered in response. "Yes, Charles, please, fill me up with your cum." she begged. She rubbed her clit furiously, desperate for a release.
Charles's hands suddenly gripped Y/N's hips, lifting her effortlessly and spinning her around to face a mirror. Their eyes locked in the reflection as he continued to pound into her with unrelenting force. Y/N moaned loudly as she watched his cock going in and out of her.
"You like watching yourself get fucked, huh, princess?"
Y/N can only vigorously nod in reply, her capacity for coherent speech vanished. Her mind consumed by sex.
Charles senses her pussy tightening, a telltale sign that she's teetering on the brink of cumming. Gazing into her eyes, he murmurs, "Come for me, beautiful," he commanded. Swiftly, he replaces her hands with his own, his touch assertive yet tender as he relentlessly stimulates her clit. With each skillful stroke, he sends her closer to the precipice of pleasure until finally, she shatters into a powerful climax, her body trembling with the intensity of her release.
A satisfied grin dances across Charles' lips as another squirt cascades out of her, dampening the sheets beneath them. Charles persists in his ministrations on her clit, his touch unwavering, even as she keeps on squirting uncontrollably.
"Please," she gasps between ragged breaths, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, "stop, Charles."
He pauses, his fingers lingering tantalizingly close to her clit. "You sure, mon ange? I was rather enjoying the show," he teases.
"Please," she repeats, her tone more desperate this time, "I can't take it anymore."
Chuckling softly, he relents, withdrawing his hand with a playful smirk. "As you wish, darling."
Charles continues his rhythmic thrusts, as Y/N leans against him, her body limp and spent. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as he feels himself nearing the edge. As he nears the peak of his own pleasure, Charles releases a loud groan, his movements becoming more frantic. With a final thrust, he empties himself inside her, feeling the hot spurts of his cum shooting deep into her. He lets out a string of curse words in French, the words escaping him in a fervent rush of ecstasy.
As they come down from the peak of pleasure together, Charles holds her close, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
When their breathing has slowed down and their bodies relax, Y/N softly murmurs, "Stay with me tonight, Charles. Just sleep here."
A tender smile graces Charles' lips as he brushes a lock of hair away from her face. "Of course, mon amour," he replies, his voice filled with affection. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."
They adjust their bodies, finding a comfortable position to rest in each other's arms. Charles presses a lingering kiss to Y/N's forehead before closing his eyes, contentment spreading through him like a warm embrace.
Y/N nestles closer, feeling safe and cherished in Charles' embrace. "I don't regret this," she whispers, the words a gentle caress against his chest.
Charles' heart swells with happiness as he tightens his hold around her. "I'm glad that you don't," he murmurs, his voice laced with sincerity. "More than anything."
In the tranquil stillness of the night, they drift off to sleep. The fall out far from their minds.
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bbydoll18xx · 2 days
Text
Pet Names And Airplanes
When a very sleepy Paige lets out some interesting noises, you find that the lines of your friendship have blurred considerably.
Paige Bueckers x reader
Based on this request: I have a request but it's not fully thought out but all the traveling she's been doing has got me thinking. Basically Paige x friend where there's some tension emotionally and physically but neither of them know it rlly. Paige is groggy bc they had to catch an early flight to go somewhere and while sitting next to each other on the plane, her mind starts wandering and she accidentally says smthg dirty out loud to the reader which obviously leads to a build of tension on their flight that they end up having to deal with. How they deal w it and such can be up to you.
Word Count: 1.7k
Themes: friends to lovers, one bed trope!, slightly inappropriate behavior
I'm thinking about doing a second part to this.
Please send more requests, you guys always have the best ideas omg
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If there was one thing undeniable about Paige Bueckers, it was that she really loved her friends. Some in different ways than others, as you would come to learn. 
Growing tired of Paige’s incessant whining about missing Nika, who was now in Seattle playing for the Seattle Storm, you had purchased tickets to a game for her.
You had surprised the tall blonde one evening when the two of you were lounging on her couch, absentmindedly watching a random romcom. Paige was tracing small circles on the soft skin of your forearm, and you had figured it was as good of a time as any to break the news. 
“Paigey,” you murmured, grabbing her attention from the screen. “I know you’ve been missing Nika, so I got us tickets to go see her play in Seattle on Saturday.”
Before you can go into details, Paige is launching herself into you, and whispering thanks over and over again into the crook of your neck. Goosebumps erupt all over, as you feel the warmth breath of her gratitude fan against your skin. 
“We’re leaving Friday morning. It’s an early flight, so you better get your ass to bed early that night,” you say with fake mockery. Paige could not wake up early to save her life, whilst you typically preferred to be in bed by 11. 
“You’re the fuckin’ best, princess,” Paige mumbles, her face reddened by more than just your teasing. She is still hiding in your presence, and the closeness makes your heart speed up. This wasn’t the first time, and it surely would not be the last. 
Paige just had that effect on you.
~
Thursday evening rolls around, and you decide it would make more sense to spend the night at Paige’s apartment to save time in the morning before catching your flight. You stroll through the door and your gaze is immediately drawn to chaos. The apartment was in ruins with shit scattered everywhere. 
“P!” You call out, trying to figure out where your friend was hiding. “This place is a fucking disaster. What happened?”
Paige emerges from her room with a sheepish smile on her face. “Couldn’t figure out what to wear,” she shrugs nonchalantly. 
“You need to clean this shit up. I’ll pack.” Your voice is laced with disapproval, but the fond smile on your face gives you away. 
“Thanks, princess,” Paige beams, and your heart falters once more.
That nickname would be the cause of a future arrhythmia, and it was not going away. Paige had called you ‘princess’ one evening while she was drunk. And it had just stuck. She rarely called you by your name anymore, and you were so okay with that. The term of endearment was now the object of all of your fantasies. You had spent an embarrassing amount of nights in your bed with a hand between your legs, imagining Paige on top of you whispering that name in your ear. 
You feel yourself heat up at your reveries, and you clear your throat in an attempt to dissuade the longingness you felt. Paige was just a friend. That’s all she’d ever be to you. 
Once the mess was cleaned up and Paige’s suitcase was packed to perfection by your type-A ass, you fell into bed next to the blonde girl. It was early, and while you were eager to go to bed in order to get a few solid hours of sleep, Paige was bustling with energy.
“Stop actin’ like a grandma and talk to me,” Paige whines, while bouncing obnoxiously on the plush mattress.
“Go to sleep. You’ll thank me in the mornin’,” you respond sleepily, eyes already closed with a fierce determination to ignore Paige’s childish antics. 
Paige doesn’t respond, but chooses to pout in faux indignation. 
Her pouting keeps her up for three more hours. And as your shrill alarm bit through the silence of her dark room, waking you both up, you knew Paige was about to be a real problem. 
She groans at the piercing noise, hiding her head under the blankets.
“C’mon, Paigey. Wakey, wakey,” you giggle as you tickle her writhing figure in an attempt to get her ass out of bed. 
She ultimately relents at the promise of breakfast on the way to the airport. Even as you pull her through the bright airport, Paige is trying to do anything in her power to close her eyes for a few precious seconds of shut eye. It was so like her, and her refusal to admit that you were right should have made you annoyed. But Paige could never really do anything to actually annoy you.
Standing protectively behind you in the TSA line, you feel her eyes trailing your figure in a way that makes you feel hot and slightly insecure. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and an oversized UCONN basketball t-shirt, and the shirt had ridden up. Paige had a perfect view of your backside. Turning around to talk to her, you notice her gaze is directed at your ass, and your cheeks are suddenly ablaze at the shameless ogling. 
Paige was always flirty with you, but lately it had been weaved with something more. 
Finally, the two of you are able to board, and Paige slumps into her seat with a loud groan of exhaustion. You roll your eyes and get yourself situated for the long ride to Seattle. You had already mentally prepared for the fact that Paige would spend most of the flight using you as a pillow. However, you were less than prepared for the noises that would soon come out of your best friend’s sleeping mouth.
The television attached to the seat in front of you showed that plane was flying over Montana when you were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by several small noises coming out of Paige’s mouth. The first one was quiet but fucking guttural. The second one is followed by whining. The last one makes your heart stop. A tiny moan of “princess” slips out, and your legs involuntarily clench at the sound. 
Was she dreaming about you?
Fuck no. That was impossible, and you refused to get even the smallest of hopes up.
Until your name slips out in a faint whimper, and there is no denying that you were the object of her dream.
Shit. 
Before she could get any louder and attract some unwanted attention, you jostle her ever so slightly, waking her up. Her eyes are bleary, and she looks around for a second, as if she has forgotten where she was. Her gaze settles on yours briefly before she is tearing it away to stare down at her hands. She is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, and it makes you wonder if she had recalled any part of her little dream. Not wanting to embarrass her, you drop it, instead informing her that you’d be landing in an hour. 
Paige doesn’t miss the way your eyes drop to her lips, as your bottom one is caught between your teeth in a bruising bite. There was always sexual tension between the two of you. Always a ‘what if’ and a ‘if only’ after each interaction, but you had both ignored it in favor of protecting the delicacy of your friendship. 
~
Soon enough, you and Paige are stepping out of the elevator of your hotel. With the time change, it was still morning, and you had promised Paige that you’d let her take a nap before going out to explore and meet up with Nika. Paige was desperate for sleep now, and you don’t miss the bruised look of her under eyes. 
You open the door to the room, eyes immediately drawn to the large single bed placed right in the center of the room. Shit, you thought you had requested two beds. Looking warily over at Paige, you notice her tongue peaking out to slowly trace across her bottom lip in a subtle display of want. Maybe sharing a bed after all this wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. 
Once all your stuff is placed neatly away, and Paige haphazardly throws her stuff onto the empty desk in the corner, you settle onto the soft bed with a small moan of content. Your body sinks into the soft sheets and plush pillows, and Paige’s warm body next to you beckons you to scooch closer into her. It felt blissful, and it did not take long before you were both enveloped in the welcoming nothingness of sleep. 
Several hours slipped by before you wake up, suddenly feeling sticky from both the sleep and the hot body pressed up against you. Paige had nuzzled into your neck, a long muscular arm thrown around your waist, caging you in deliciously. 
As she lets out a puff of air against your throat, a tiny whine escapes your mouth, similarly to the noises Paige had been making on the airplane. As quiet as you thought you were, Paige wakes with a startle, and her bright blue eyes are peering curiously into yours. 
“You okay, princess?” She asks, a small smirk on her face, as if she knew what you were thinking. 
“Course.” You affirm, eyes flitting back and forth between those eyes and her lips. You were no longer hiding the want in your own eyes. 
Paige chuckles, and the noise goes straight between your legs, reverberating through your entire body. The effect she had on you was maddening. 
Before you can even begin to overthink, Paige is bringing her face even closer to yours. You can feel her breath fan over your mouth, and you hold your breath for a second, afraid that if you let out any air, she would pull away and retreat. 
Paige searches your face for a sign of reluctance but she finds nothing, and she presses her lips against yours. A moan leaves her mouth as your lips connect, and you can feel the already blurry lines of your friendship completely entangle. 
You did not care, though. Because Paige’s mouth was on yours and everything else seemed to fade away into nothingness.
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stuckyrogersbarnes · 18 hours
Text
keep your hands where i can see 'em
(bucky, nat, and Y/n)
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Warnings: 3some, embarrassment, GxG.
Word count: 885
Female reader
You groan as you get up from a night of hardly any sleep. Yesterday the team decided to throw a major party for literally no reason whatsoever. "Fuck," you begin to get up, heading to the bathroom. You are a neighbor to Nat, whose room is on your left, and Bucky, whose room is on the right. You 3 shared a floor, and therefore, a bathroom. When you initially joined, you were very nervous about sharing the floor with the 2 hottest people in the compound. But, the longer you stayed here, the better it got. I mean, both of them got more comfortable, meaning there were occasional sights of Bucky looking hot as hell with no shirt on. And Nat occasionally wanders in a bra. 
To add to the tension, you like to tease them by leaving some of your sexiest bras or thongs in the bathroom. You walk out and look to your left, seeing Bucky and Nat sitting at the table eating something. They both look at you and stop chewing, staring deep into your soul. Your cheeks redden. "What?" You ask nervously. "Do i have something on my..." you look down and gasp.
You were in nothing but a deep red thong. Literally. You weren't even wearing a bra. You freeze in embarrassment.  You begin to run away but then you hear a deep voice say, "Wait!" you look over at Bucky, confused and ashamed. He stands up, only for your eyes to dart down to his massive bulge. This cannot be happening. "You look hot," he says in a low growl, "doesn't she, nat?" oh fuck. "Oh yeah." she bites her lip and walks towards us. "You think we're blind? hmm? we know you've been teasing us with your thongs and underwear in the bathroom everywhere." bucky smirks as he grabs onto your hair and pulls it hard. You gasp. "Please," you whimper. Nat chuckles and gets a hold of your neck, pulling you closer to her and connecting her soft lips to yours. You moan. Bucky squeezes your ass from behind. Bucky groans and connects his rough lips to your neck. You whimper as Nat disconnects her lips from yours and slowly begins to slide your underwear down. Bucky, from behind, begins to circle your clit as Nat bites your nipple. You begin to shake, almost coming to an orgasm. You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, it almost felt like it would hop right out. 
Nat pulls her pants down, pulling on your nipple. "You two are so fucking hot." bucky groans and begins to stroke himself from beneath his pants, still kissing your neck. "Fuck me, please." you whimper, desperate. They chuckle and take you to the couch. "Sit." you do. "Open your legs wide so we can see that beautiful pussy, Y/n." bucky demands. You do as he says, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Oof, she is so wet," Natasha groans. She then, pulls Bucky's pants down and kneels in front of him. "You're hu-huge" you stutter. "Now y/n, keep your hands where I can see 'em." Nat begins to lick Bucky's head and slowly puts the whole thing in her mouth. He groans, "fuck, I missed this." he grabs Nat's head and pushes her even further down, thrusting into her tiny mouth. You begin to shake again, your body begging for a release. 
"Your time, baby. Tell us what to do." bucky says, stroking his length as nat walks toward you. "You heard him. You tell u what to do. Anything." You gulp, "B-bucky, i want you to fuck me while i, um, eat Natasha out." you say, slightly embarrassed. Bucky doesn't say a word. Instead, he comes right towards you and plunges is cock into your tight pussy. You scream. Nat climbs on top of your face. She sits on your lips, you begin to lick, rating all her sweet liquids. she moans and begins to grind. You scream in her pussy as everything begins to go black, you feel your pussy pulsating against Bucky's dick as he pounds into you. You could hear his balls against your ass and suddenly, all your thoughts disappear as your eyes role to the back of your eyes. 
You come out of your amazing climax, seeing Nat lick your pussy and Bucky still pounding into you. Nat's pussy was 5 inches in front of your face, you could see her glistening and smell her too. You immediately latch your lips onto her clit and do the exact same thing to her, as she is doing to you. "Fuck, Y/n, how are you so tight?" Unable to reply, you moan. Just then, Bucky does something you never thought could ever happen by a man. He hit your G-spot, again, and again. You moan and begin flicking your tongue on nats clit. You all begin to shake, as all three of you reach your orgasm. "Fuck," Bucky groans, and you feel his cum in your pussy, making you orgasm even harder. 
"Round two," you say in a curt voice. They look at you, confused. "You said you would do anything i want. And i want a round two," they smirk and nod.
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biboomerangboi · 5 months
Text
No one in dubbing history has ever put this much pussy into playing a gay little man like James Cheek is. Every single line he says to Xie Lian sounds like he’s draped naked on a piano like that scene in Pretty Woman.
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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months
Text
Buckle up for another unhinged story time. Now, as I’ve said before, I used to work at a sex shop. At one point I had three roommates and we all worked the same dildo slinging retail job and lived together. It was extremely sitcom.
Now, as you’d imagine, living with three other people who also talked about sex toys all day created a microcosm of people who were all extremely comfortable around sex toys and related topics. No one left dirty toys laying around but seeing things left in showers or showing off a new purchase was just a Tuesday.
After some life upheavals I ended up living with one of those roommates again, just me and her. For the sake of this story let’s call her Betty. Betty and I shared a two bedroom, and the layout was all the common spaces were an open floor plan and then one hallway formed a T, with my room and bathroom to the left and Betty’s to the right.
Well, one day my cousin calls me up. He’s coming to town for a visit and I offer to put up him, his wife, and their more… sheltered friend. (Unbeknownst to me there was a full Briefing for this girl before she met me so that I didn’t overwhelm her with my blasé attitudes towards- well, most things).
They drove in from two states over and it was a long drive. I had to work and couldn’t greet them or spend the first day together. So I told them to come grab my key so they could all shower off and settle in before me.
I arrived home later that night and found the atmosphere a little awkward at first. Things quickly warmed up and I charmed their friend, impressing my cousin with my immaculate respect for personal comfort levels. We had a lovely evening. By the time we all said goodnight I’d dismissed the initial tension as being tired after a long drive.
The next day we all decided to go to the zoo. I’m a morning shower person, but I let them go first while I made breakfast. After breakfast it was my turn and I hopped in the shower.
Midway through my eyes fixed on it. A little pink sex toy, sitting brazenly on the rim of the tub. Oh no, I thought. This was why things had been awkward yesterday! I left out a personal object because I’d literally forgotten to ever put them away by that point.
What I felt wasn’t embarrassment per se, because that emotion had been utterly eradicated by that point. Rather it was a deep shame that I’d leave out something that might make a guest feel uncomfortable. They told me their friend was sheltered and I had left out a sex toy, it was the epitome of rudeness!
I rejoined everyone and said, “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I’d left that in the shower, that was so rude of me!”
My guests all exchanged a Look. I looked from my cousin to his wife, she glanced toward their friend, and their friend looked at my cousin. No one would look at me.
“Well…” my cousin finally said, “you didn’t tell us which room was yours yesterday.”
I blinked in confusion, Betty’s room and bathroom were basically just like mine.
“When we got here,” his wife continued, “we went to the other side first. In Betty’s bathroom.”
Reader, Betty’s bathroom.
Had been absolutely covered in dildos. Sex toys of all shapes and sizes covered every flat surface, the tub rim, the sink, the shelves. Wall to wall sex toys. Apparently Betty was doing a spring cleaning and had left her entire extensive collection out to air dry.
These three weary travelers had opened a door to the dildo dimension and had no idea how to react. To this day I have no idea what context clues they used to figure out Betty’s room from mine.
But when I’d come home they were lost in the sex toy shell shock, presumably wondering how they could ever talk about it with someone who felt it was okay to leave out every sex toy they own when expecting company in some kind of bizarre power play.
By the time they finished telling me about this we were all laughing so hard we were in tears.
“When we saw your bathroom with one little pink toy it was so discreet we didn’t even care!” They told me.
After my cousin and his crew had gone on their way I finally told Betty the whole story. She listened with eyes growing wider and wider and finally burst out, “That’s why they were so weird when I got home!!”
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sttoru · 5 months
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your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff / angst / hurt + comfort. age gap (reader early 20’s & satoru early 30’s). nicknames used; ‘(little) baby’. he’s honestly just the perfect combination of gentle and teasing. subtle mentions of size difference.
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satoru shifts on the couch whilst letting out an inaudible yawn. he was tired after an entire day at work and finally had the chance to settle down in the comfort of his apartment.
though, he couldn’t really relax just yet. the reason why being the undeniable tension hanging in the air. he was in fact home, but it didn’t feel like it. not when you were missing.
you had holed yourself up in the master bedroom after an earlier argument the two of you had. it wasn’t a big fight — just a little squabble between lovers. satoru didn’t rush after you when you had decided to walk away midst argument. you clearly weren’t in the right headspace to properly articulate nor communicate your feelings.
he figured that you just needed some time alone and thus decided to leave you be. he didn’t want to risk losing you by annoying you any further.
satoru scrolls on his phone out of boredom. the light radiating off the screen starts to bother his already sensitive eyes. with a sigh, he shuts off the device and puts it down on the coffee table.
it was dead silent in the apartment that was usually filled with your lively chatter. the sorcerer wants nothing more than to cuddle up with you under the covers and fall asleep. but, you needed space and he wasn’t going to disturb you.
he drapes an arm over his eyes and pulls the thin blanket over his chest. his breaths were steady and his thoughts were surprisingly calm. satoru almost drifts off to sleep, however his body lightly jolts awake once he hears the creaking of a door.
careful footsteps echo throughout the hallway and stop right at the doorstep of the living room.
satoru moves his arm to the side so his vision wouldn’t be obstructed. his eyes land on the figure standing at the doorframe — one he could recognise instantly.
it was you, standing there with your head held low and your fingers curled around the hem of your nightgown. you didn’t take another step forwards and just lingered in your spot for a few seconds without saying anything.
“hey, baby.” satoru breaks the silence. his voice was as soft as it could be, not an ounce of annoyance or frustration in it. even if he had all the reason to be upset according to you.
you remember just how childish you acted earlier; you had lost all rationality, shouted at your boyfriend out of frustration and ran off mid sentence instead of properly addressing the issue at hand. the way you handled that situation was wrong and immature.
in contrast to your immature behaviour, satoru had stayed calm and collected throughout the entirety of your argument. he hadn’t raised his voice at you even once nor did he blame you for anything. you felt bad for acting like a bratty kid who didn’t get her way.
you eventually move towards the couch, still not making eye contact with your boyfriend. he sits up and simply watches you with a raised eyebrow—curious as to what you were about to do.
you knew you had to apologise for your behaviour, but what you needed first was his validation. you wordlessly climb onto the couch and under the blanket satoru was using.
your arms wrap around his torso and you hug him tightly to your body, face buried in his shirt to cover your embarrassed and remorseful expression.
satoru’s eyes widen a bit at the sudden show of affection, though he wasn’t complaining. he reciprocates the gesture and nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head.
“my little baby.” he chuckles, hands rubbing your back in attempt to reassure you that everything was and will be fine, “i’m happy you decided to come back to me — thank you.”
again. that tender tone satoru uses only with you and for you. the guilt from earlier hits you like a truck and your eyes well up with tears before you could stop the process.
“sorry,” your voice cracks once you finally muster out an apology. the warmth engulfing your cold body was enough to make you sob in his comforting embrace. satoru sighs and closes his eyes. he rests his chin on top of your head whilst holding you like his life depended on it.
no words were exchanged between you two for a good minute. satoru silently encourages you to cry it out and so you do. after calming down, you sniffle and pull your head away from his chest. your eyes were watery and a bit red.
the pad of his thumb sweeps the stray tears away from your cheeks, his touch precise and careful. he smiles softly at the sight of his teary-eyed girlfriend. you were so adorable and precious to him. even when you looked like a mess — a pretty mess.
“i just..” you start off, small hiccups interrupting your sentence, “i wanted to apologise for acting so childish. i shouldn’t have said nor did any of those hurtful things. i apologise for that as well.”
your lover nods along to your words. he hums in delight and kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for longer than intended, “don’t worry, baby. i understand. thank you for apologising, though.”
you mutter a small ‘of course’ in-between sniffles. that was all the reassurance you had needed to hear from your boyfriend. though, you still felt bad and the guilt of your immature actions seemed to linger in the back of your mind.
you lay your head back on satoru’s chest and listen to his heartbeat — hoping that the constant sound would drown out any other thoughts. your lover lays on his back and pulls you down on top of him. his hands rub your sides, slender fingers toying with the silky material of your nightgown.
“i’m sorry for being immature sometimes. i’m sure it must be troubling to deal with.” you whisper as you enjoy the feeling of being back in satoru’s arms.
he grins and shakes his head in response. he loves every side of yours — even your immature one. if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be here right now. he truly loves all of you.
the older man places another soft kiss on top of your head and closes his eyes afterwards, “heh, i’d be lying if i said that you trying to act all tough earlier wasn’t cute.”
satoru snickers at the memory. he remembers how you pointed that little finger of yours in front of his face and how you tried to subtly stand on the tips of your toes so you could look him in the eyes properly. your attempts at looking intimidating were quite endearing.
it’s not like he was invalidating your feelings with that comment — he was genuinely trying to lighten your mood. and it wasn’t like it didn’t work.
“whatever.” you huff, playfully swatting his biceps and gaining an over exaggerated ‘ow!’ in response. you’re glad that things have gone back to normal between you two. if the situation had continued for any longer, you’d have lost your mind.
you aren’t the only one who is extremely relieved. satoru is beaming with joy because he gets to hold and talk to you again. that small period of silence between the both of you felt like an eternity to him.
no matter how many times you have those little arguments, satoru will still love you all the same.
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nanaslutt · 6 months
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okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL
Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..
contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.
“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.
“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.
After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.
“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.
“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.
“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.
“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.
But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..
..which might’ve been a mistake.
You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—
“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.
Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.
“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.
“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.
He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.
“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.
The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.
“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.
“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.
“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.
“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.
“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.
“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.
“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.
He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.
“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.
“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.
“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.
“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”
“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.
“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.
“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.
“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.
Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.
“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.
“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..”
Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.
“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.
When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.
“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.
“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’
He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.
“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.
“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.
“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.
“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.
“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.
“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”
“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.
“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.
“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.
Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.
He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.
Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.
“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.
“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.
You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”
His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.
“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.
“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.
When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”
“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.
You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.
“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.
“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.
“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.
The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.
‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.
“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.
You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.
He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.
You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.
“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.
He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.
“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.
“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.
“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.
You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.
You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.
“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.
He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.
He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it— whatever gojo did, you did.
“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.
“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.
“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.
Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.
“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.
“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.
“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.
“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.
“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.
“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.
You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.
“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.
“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.
“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.
“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.
“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.
Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.
“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.
“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.
“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.
You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.
“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.
You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.
“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.
“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.
“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.
You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.
“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.
Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.
After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.
Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”
pt. 2 here
7K notes · View notes
velvetures · 10 months
Text
Got Me Snoring
A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.
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“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.
After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.
“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.
“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.
You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.
Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.
She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.
Then there was Ghost.
He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.
“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”
You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.
The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”
It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.
Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.
About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.
“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”
He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.
The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.
Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.
“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.
“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.
By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.
“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”
No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.
“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.
“Why would it matter?”
You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.
“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.
“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”
A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.
“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.
“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.
Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.
“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”
In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.
“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.
“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.
“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.
“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”
You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.
“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.
“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”
Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.
“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.
Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.
Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”
It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.
“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.
“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.
“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”
The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.
“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.
You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.
“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.
Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.
When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.
“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.
He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.
“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.
“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.
You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.
And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.
“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.
“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”
It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.
You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.
“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.
“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.
Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.
“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.
“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.
You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.
“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”
His eyes say it all.
They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.
“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.
Bring Ghost to his knees.
It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.
Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.
As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.
Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.
“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.
“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.
You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.
“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.
He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.
Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.
Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.
“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.
“You’re mine now.”
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nachojaehyun · 29 days
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head so good, she a honor roll
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pairing. idol wonu + new staff! fem! reader
summary. if wonwoo had to describe his new stylist in one word, it would be unpredictable. i mean, who would have known you were this good at sucking his soul?
warnings. [PLEASE READ] oral (m), light throat fucking, messy/sloppy head, the best head he had EVER received, wonu wears glasses, teasing, he almost cries, mentions of past sexual encounters, THICK dick wonu, no gag reflex queen reader — 18+ MINORS DNI!
note. jeon wonwoo, you genuinely deserve the best head in the universe. thank you for existing king.
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wonwoo felt like he was going to pass out.
the tides of pleasure were overwhelming him, making his eyes roll to the back of his head as he bit his lip to subdue his noises.
initially, he hadn’t thought much of you at all. when PD Na announced that a new staff member was joining the Seventeen crew, wonwoo could only clap and bow as you entered the room.
you were pretty— he’d give you that. your features were pleasant to the eye, and the thick framed glasses you adorned on your first day made him smile.
he was happy to know that he wasn’t the only one who was batshit blind in the room.
you were his stylist. of course you had taken him to get his color analysis done, taken him to multiple stores across Seoul, brought him piles of clothes for performances and off duty days.
you were his stylist. of course you had seen him almost naked, but you had never bat an eye at him, only instructing him to “wear his clothes faster.”
you were his stylist. of course you had first hand experience in the most embarrassing encounter in jeon wonwoo’s career— you had seen his dick rip out from a pair of very tight slacks. you still remained stoic, carefully asking him to take his pants off as you went to search for another pair. he was red in the face, cock half hard as he tightly fisted the curtain of the changing room in shame.
you were his stylist. so why on earth were you sucking his cock like your life depended on it?
wonwoo swears he didn’t know how it happened. you had texted him half an hour ago that you were going to drop off some clothes at his apartment before his fitting tomorrow.
it was supposed to be a simple exchange— you would give him the bag and you would leave.
but of course he had his phone silenced and didn’t see your notification.
of course he was sitting on the living room couch, fisting his length in his hand as he tried to relieve the tension in his muscles from dancing for 4 hours straight.
of course he forgot to lock the door to his apartment while he was blatantly moaning like a whore—
here you were, mouth dragging along his tip as you looked up at him through your long lashes, glassy eyes blinking innocently. the bag of clothes you had brought to him was long discarded, laying limp on the floor near his coffee table.
the grey contacts you had on make wonwoo shiver, whimpering as your tongue swirled around his tip.
“fuck baby, quit playin,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair as he watched you down his cock like a champ. wonwoo’s glasses were sitting at the edge of his nose, lenses fogging up.
his hand reached out to fist your hair in a makeshift ponytail, mouth falling into a near pornographic growl as he felt your hands fondle his balls.
his cock was unbelievably thick. your jaw was nearly falling slack. however, the salty taste of his precum was far too addicting for you to care about your own discomfort.
you hollowed your cheeks, trying to feel every ridge and every vein that his pretty cock had to offer. you pulled him out of your mouth soon after, placing kisses along his side as you suckled on his tip.
your free hand came to jerk off his base, spitting onto his leaky tip to use as lube, adding more pressure as his eyebrows scrunched.
“ ’m close— hah!” he whined, tears coating his lashes as you took him in with no warning.
unable to hold himself back, wonwoo harshly yanked your head back, rolling his hips into your mouth. you moaned at his rough treatment, sending vibrations that tightened the knot in his stomach.
“shit shit shit!” wonwoo grunted, feeling his dick weigh down on your tongue that continued to lick and torture him while he used your mouth as his personal fleshlight.
you could feel him twitch inside you.
to give him the final push over the edge, you lazily dragged your freshly manicured nails gently against his balls, cupping the two as he emptied inside your mouth.
wonwoo’s hips stuttered as his thighs shook, feeling ropes of his cum spurt into your open mouth.
he pulled out slightly, jerking off to give you the rest of him. you simply sat on the floor, wagging your tongue, catching every drop of his seed. as soon as you swallowed his release without any question, wonwoo felt himself getting hard again.
wordlessly, you wiped your mouth of the drool that had dribbled past your lips. pushing your weight from your thighs, you glanced at your wristwatch before smiling.
“see you at 8 tomorrow, wonwoo-ssi. don’t be late.”
with that, jeon wonwoo watched you wave him goodbye and walk out the door.
his mind was blown as he breathed out softly, still coming down from the best orgasm he ever had in his life.
sure, he had been blown before. but most girls were too scared to keep him in for more than a few minutes, complaining that their jaw hurt from his sheer length and thickness.
but you? dear god, you and your perfect self never complained, silently taking his cock in your mouth. you didn’t care about your own pleasure, mind consumed by the man wearing glasses in front of you, shock written all over his features.
“fucking hell, what is she doing to me?” wonwoo groaned, fisting his once again hardened member as he begin to circle his tip with a thumb.
he felt sensitive from his last high, closing his eyes as he imagined the scene all over again— wondering how many positions he could bend you over in.
if only he knew that you were in your car, fingers curling inside your folds as you moaned out his name. his cock had moulded your throat.
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click here for part 2
© nachojaehyun, 2024
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if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo
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SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)
part two w/matt is here :)
“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”
Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.
Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.
“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.
It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.
“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.
“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.
“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.
And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.
“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.
“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”
That’s it.
You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.
You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.
You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.
A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.
“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.
“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.
“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.
Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.
The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.
You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.
Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.
Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.
He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.
The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.
“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.
Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.
You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.
“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.
“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.
Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.
With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.
“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.
“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.
His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”
You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.
“Yeah?”
“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“Hey Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”
You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.
“You heard him, be quiet next time,”
“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”
The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.
2K notes · View notes
zarameraki · 2 months
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˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 ˖°🕷️𖤐
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 bj 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut
: ̗̀➛ words: 4.0k
: ̗̀➛ notes: ok look, i was ovulating and i had to write this for some reason. i even wrote a nanami one (but he's your step-uncle). my mind was in the gutter and i wanted to challenge myself to something super taboo. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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Here you were, standing on a worn-out welcome mat, staring at the door of your ex-stepfather’s house.
It’s surreal.
A month ago, when your mom dropped the bomb about their divorce, you felt like your world was crumbling. Part of you felt relieved, like you could finally breathe without suffocating under their constant tension. And the other part? Well, it felt like a piece of you was being ripped away.
Last week, when the papers were finalized, making it official that they were done, you locked yourself in your room. The silence was deafening, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling of missing him. Missing Toji. It’s ridiculous, right? He’s not your step dad anymore. He’s just some guy now. Too old, too wrong, too different.
You should just turn around and leave, forget about all this.
But you couldn’t.
Not today.
Not when you’re clutching your hard-earned bachelor’s degree, wearing a stupid graduation gown that felt like a costume. He didn’t bother showing up for your biggest achievement, just like your mother. She was always occupied with her own life to care about you. You were just an accident, a spill on her pile of kitchen table bills. 
Toji, though, he was different. He actually paid attention, listened to you, cared about what you had to say. Maybe you’re being stupid for wanting to talk to him, to pour out everything that’s been eating you up for months. But you needed to do this, for yourself, even if it meant facing the reality that he’s not part of your life anymore.
So, you’d driven straight to his residence building, skipping the after parties with your friends. You were twenty-two for fuck’s sake. If you wanted to spend the night celebrating with your step-dad, then that’s exactly what you were going to do. 
Enough was enough. 
Your trembling finger hovered over the doorbell, each second feeling like an eternity. The sharp pricks of anxiety danced on your palms, and the weight on your shoulders threatened to crush you. But you couldn’t turn back now.
The ache in your chest demanded resolution, an answer to the haunting question that had plagued you since your mother first brought him into your life: Do I want to fuck my step-dad? 
Yes. Yes, you very much did. 
The clicks of the lock rattled and the door knob twisted clockwise. 
Toji stood in the doorway, his presence dominating the space as if he had devoured the entire door frame. His twelve abdomen muscles rippled, stark against his skin. Jet-black hair clung wetly to his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. With sweatpants slung low on his hips, a tantalizing trail of hair led downward, drawing attention to the area you often found yourself fantasizing about.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, realization dawning. “It was today, wasn’t it?”
“You’re such an ass,” you spat out, your body trembling with a mix of emotions—his forgetfulness, his proximity to you, the sheer presence of him. But at this moment, all your focus was on the pain of him abandoning you after promising he’d be there. “I was completely alone, Toji. Do you even understand how embarrassing it was to stand there by myself while everyone else had their families?”
“Sweetheart—”
“No. No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t—You made me a promise, Toji. You swore you’d be there for me.”
“I know,” he murmured, running his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, kid. Come here.” He grasped your wrist and drew you towards him, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His strong arms wrapped around your body, reminiscent of the times he used to challenge you by having you sit on his back during push-ups to prove you wrong about being too heavy for him. “Better?”
“No,” you grumbled, resting your cheek against his chest. He had the scent of spruce and cigarettes that you found strangely comforting. What you wouldn’t do to sleep on his chest for hours, days and weeks. “Toji, I . . . I want to talk to you about something.” 
“What is it?” he asked, stepping back. 
“Can we sit down first?” 
He grinned. “Of course, baby.” 
With a shy smile of your own, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he led you towards the plush couch at the center of the room. Memories of previous visits with your mother flashed briefly in your mind, but they were quickly replaced by the present moment.
The apartment’s decor was simple yet masculine, with red-brick walls lending a rustic charm. A mounted television, a large couch, and a hanging boxing bag added character to the space. The kitchen, though small, was designed in an L-shape, showcasing Toji’s dedication to fitness with his assortment of protein powders and supplements neatly arranged.
As you both settled onto the couch, Toji relaxed back, spreading out his legs and placing his arms on the backrest. His gaze lingered on you as you gracefully removed your graduation gown and placed your degree on his coffee table. 
“Your mother allowed you to wear that?” His thumb traced the curve of his lower lip as his gaze roamed shamelessly over you.
The gown you had on was a sleek, satin creation with a daring thigh-high slit. Its fabric was delicate, featuring thin straps and a plunging cleavage that barely contained your breasts. It was no secret that you had chosen it with Toji in mind, especially since your mother had been “too busy” to accompany you on your shopping trip.
“She doesn’t control my wardrobe,” you replied, your voice laced with confidence as you settled beside him. One leg tucked beneath you, the other languidly extended, the slit in your dress showcasing the smoothness of your skin. Toji’s gaze followed the line of exposed flesh before meeting your eyes. “Besides, you shouldn’t be the one to talk.” 
His smirk widened when you pointed out his lack of a shirt. “My house, my rules.”
You changed the subject. “Care to explain why you missed my graduation?”
“Work,” he replied shortly.
“Is that so?”
“I got a last-minute call for a match. The prize money was going to cover the next three months’ rent.” Toji was a professional MMA fighter. You had once attended one of his matches for ten minutes before almost passing out from witnessing how brutally he defeated his opponent. His persona in the ring was a juxtaposition to the sarcastic yet caring man he was at home with you.
“Did you win?” you asked, absently twirling the bracelet he had given you for your twenty-first birthday.
“Yeah,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “I won.”
“Good.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, only to find his eyes fixed on you. “Do you miss home?”
“I am home.”
“You know what I mean.”
He took a deep breath, gazing at the blank television screen. Tilting his head back towards you, he wore a lopsided grin. “I miss you. Does that count?”
Your insides turned to jelly at his words, but you refused to let yourself falter, refusing to become the shy, sweet girl you once were, despite the depraved and forbidden reel playing in your mind. 
You missed watching television with your head on his lap. You missed cooking together. You missed doing the dishes afterward. You missed joining him on walks and runs just to spend a little extra time together. You missed dragging him to malls with you and trying on clothes, posing as sexily as you could, but obviously, he didn’t understand the signals. He never did. Even if you’d spend more time with him than your own mother. 
Silence ensued around you, only the subtle sounds of your choppy breaths and his composed ones were heard. 
“Why are you here, kid?” Toji’s gruff voice cut through the air.
“To see you.” 
“Why are you here?” 
You held your breath tightly in your chest. “I wanted to talk.” 
“About?” He was quick with the question, as if he knew what you were about to say, but wanted to hear it from your lips. Lips that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from. “Talk to me.” 
“I—” You felt a knot form in your throat. “I wanted to check up—”
“Bullshit.” 
Yeah, bullshit. 
What were you scared of? This was the man who cut up fruits for you when you were mentally deprived from crunching for your exams. This was the man who put a blanket on you if you fell asleep reading, even giving a kiss to your crown. This was the man who treated you like you were his own daughter, when in reality, you never were. And he never outwardly called you his daughter, either. You didn’t know why you never saw him as a father figure, but rather, you called him a friend. A really good friend. A friend you’d fallen stupidly in love with over the course of six months. 
Toji snapped his fingers in front of your face. You blinked out of the whirlpool of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?” 
“To you.” 
He lifted a brow. “To me?” 
Now or never, Y/N. Now or fucking never. 
You knelt down and moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. His eyes widened momentarily at your boldness. “Toji, I like you. Hell, I love you. I love every version of the man you’ve been in my life. I know—I know you love me, too. Probably not in the way I want you to, but a girl can hope.” Your words were directed at the dog tag hanging from his neck as you gently placed your hands on his chest. “I did come here to scold you for not attending my graduation, but I also wanted to . . . I wanted to be with you. In more ways than one.” 
“You don’t know what you’re talk—”
“I do,” you stated firmly. Your lashes lifted and found his narrowed scrutiny. Unconsciously, his hands rested on your waist, molding to your curves. “I’ve known for a while now. It didn’t click in until you moved out. I swear Toji, it was like I couldn’t breathe without you.” 
“Baby . . . ” 
“I want you,” you confessed in a hushed tone, your fingers tracing the lines of his broad shoulders, then up to the sturdy column of his neck where his pulsing veins hinted at his emotions. “I know I seem desperate, but I don’t care. You’re not hers anymore. You were never hers.” 
“Y/N—”
“Please, Toji. Please, just touch me.” You tilted your head to plant a tender kiss on the sharp angle of his jawline. His faint stubble grazed against your lips as you continued to pepper kisses, stopping just short of his mouth. “Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, they say.”
Toji tightly shut his eyes and took slow breaths through his nose, his inner turmoil evident in the way his head moved back and forth. Your lips traced gentle paths around his face, savoring the closeness and the rush of emotions it brought. Even if he rejected you, you would find solace in knowing you had expressed your love for the man who was once your stepfather. This night might mark the end of your time together, but it also freed you from the burden of hiding your feelings.. 
“Baby,” Toji whispered, gently caressing your cheek as he drew you closer. “You sure you want this?” 
“Yes.” 
“You know how risky this is, kid. We can’t just ignore the consequences.” 
“I know, Toji.” You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his. “But I can’t ignore how I feel about you either. I want this. I want you. I want all of you. You can do whatever you want to me. I promise I can take it.” 
Toji licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Okay. Your mom—”
“She won’t know. I’m planning on moving out soon.” You dragged your hand up and down his soft, bare chest. “I should’ve moved out with you.” 
Toji took your hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm. “I don’t think I have any condoms on me.” 
“I’m on the pill.” 
His eyes narrowed on you. “You’ve been fucking around? Does your mom know?” 
“Hey, I had to have a little fun. Gain a little experience for this inevitable night.” Your infectious smile rubbed off on him and he enveloped you in his arms. 
“I fuck hard.” 
“Good.” 
“Last chance.” 
“Nope.” 
Toji rose on his feet, supporting your bottom with his hands as he took you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, the soft mattress absorbing the weight with a slight bounce. “Fucking knew you had a little crush on me.” He clambered onto your body and held your jaw with his hand. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you touch yourself thinking of me?” 
“Every single night. Whether it’s in the shower or my bedroom,” you replied, feigning a pout and raising your hand. “I’m starting to think I’ve developed carpal tunnel from all of it.”
Toji laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face with his calloused fingers. But as his laughter faded into a knowing smirk, his next words sent a jolt through you, leaving your legs weak and your heart racing. “Yeah. Me, too.” 
“Really?” 
He answered by colliding his lips against yours. It was a brutal kiss. Pain and pleasure mingled together in a heated embrace. His tongue shoved deep into your mouth, exploring the source of your daring words. 
Pulling away momentarily, he squeezed your cheeks and sucked on your tongue like it was a delicious treat. “Gonna spit in your mouth.” 
“Mm-hmm.” 
Toji’s cheeks sucked in as he gathered his spit and spat it right onto your tongue. “Swallow.” 
You did, moaning as his warm saliva traveled down your throat. “You taste minty.”
“I was just about to crash before your demanding ass showed up,” he teased.
“Well, you should thank me then.” You planted a quick kiss on his nose.
Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, tugging on your bottom lip and trailing his moist lips down to your neck. “You smell so good, baby.” 
“I’m wearing the perfume you bought me.” 
“You better fucking be. Do you know how much I get off on spoiling you?” His teeth bit your delicate flesh and pulled, making you whimper from the stinging pain. He sucked and bit on different areas of your neck, marking you with his love bites. He then helped you out of the dress and pressed you back on the mattress. “Knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” 
“No,” you said sarcastically. 
“Yeah,” he said, missing the teasing in your voice, “your nipples were in my face when we were talking.” He rounded his tongue around your areola. Gathering your breasts in both hands, Toji switched between suckling at your nipples, biting the sensitive bud that sent jerks in your body, and licking the burning pain. “I saw you undressing once. You know that?” 
You lifted a brow. “Uh, when?” And why didn't he do anything about it?
“You left your bedroom a bit open. I came to call you for dinner and instead feasted on the sight of your perky ass and these sexy tits.” He left your nipples numb and discolored from his teeth’s abuse. “You think you’re the only one who got off in that house? No, baby. Not at all. I was in the room right next to you, jerking off to your voice, or your smell.” This time, he kissed you gently and then each of your shoulders. “I had it worse. I had it so much worse.” 
“Toji . . . ”
“But you’re here now, and so am I. I’m not fucking leaving. You got that? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” 
“Yours,” you whispered. “God, Toji, I’m yours. I’m yours.” 
Toji removed his sweatpants and boxers, giving you a glorious display of his long, thick cock, corded with veins, sprouted up and proud. You had him like that, and so you gave yourself a mental pat on the back. “Like what you see?” 
“Yes,” you said, chuckling in disbelief at the anatomy of him. A surge of confidence washed over you. You slipped off your panties and spread out your legs, shaking your hair back from your face. “Like what you see?” 
Toji gleamed at the wetness pooled between your legs, soaking his sheets underneath, sticky and hot. Something feral rattled inside him. He gripped your knees and pried them farther apart, sinking in between. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck! Toji—ah!” Your back arched in ecstasy, fingers gripping his scalp as he ruthlessly ate you out. His large palm held your hips in place, nibbling and sucking at your quivering, swollen clit. “Toji, yes, yes, fuck. Right there. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 
You grinded against him with full power, pushing your pussy closer to his mouth. He drank your leaking juices, drove his skilled tongue into your tight entrance, and discovered the sweet, cry-worthy spots inside you.
Soon, he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging them deep inside you with a rough and unrelenting pace that sent shivers down your spine. His deep growls were the icing on top. 
Tears streamed down your cheeks as the bed creaked beneath you. He was exorcising your damn soul out of your body with his holy tongue and his blessed fingers.
“Ah!” You came down like a fucking waterfall and Toji stood with an open mouth, drinking in your essence, lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, cleaning you as best as he could. 
You gasped for air, clutching your chest as you coughed or laughed or wheezed—hard to tell which. You felt weightless, incredibly sore, teetering on the edge of passing out.
“Toji . . . am I dead?”
His laughter echoed nearby, then drew nearer until his face came into focus through your haze. “Your pussy tastes just as delicious as your mouth, baby.” 
He kissed you and gave you a hint of your release. Toji was a moaner—a loud one—as he sucked on your tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he spit onto your tongue again, and ran his own coarse one over your palette.
You closed your mouth and pushed him back by his shoulders. “Let me touch you.” 
“Yeah? You want to suck me off, too?” 
“Yes, fuck. Please, Toji. Please let me suck your cock.” Your begging made him grunt as he got up on his knees. He moved closer, placing them firmly beside your hips. You sat up against the headboard, gripping his warm, aroused cock, while he entwined your hair around his hand, gaining control over your movements.
You looked up at his smirk and kissed his moist tip, savoring the salty taste. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the idea of taking him deeper into your mouth. It would definitely challenge your gag reflex, but if this was going to be a regular thing, you needed to practice.
“Part your lips for me, kid. Nice and wide. That’s it.”
“Yes, Daddy.” You winked at Toji’s alarmed expression. Oh, how you loved catching him off-guard by acting out of character. “You got a daddy kink, Toji?” You brushed your lips from the base to the head, swirling your tongue around the rim. “Since you love calling me kid, maybe I should start calling you daddy. Isn’t that what you were?” 
“You got a dirty mouth on you, kid.” 
“Learned it from my daddy.”  
Toji hissed through his teeth as you nibbled his tip. “Not dirty enough.” He gripped his length and forced it past your lips. Your nails plunged into his hips, gagging and shaking as he sunk past your uvula. “About time I fucked your smartass mouth with my cock, baby. Be a good girl and don’t tap out until I’ve come down your throat.” 
You closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve before meeting his gaze again with a playful glint. You weren’t entirely sure where this was going, but you were determined not to back down now. So, with a mischievous wink, you silently accepted the challenge.
Toji thrusted his hips back and forth, shoving his girth in and out without giving you space to breathe.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck, you’re so good at sucking your daddy’s cock,” he groaned, his hands gently gripping your hair or caressing your cheek in a way that contrasted sharply with his dominant actions.
“My pretty whore.”
Thrust.
“My gorgeous girl.” 
Thrust.
“You belong to me, baby.” 
Thrust, thrust, thrust. 
He was a complete monster with you. 
Your face pressed against his pelvis, the brush of his happy trail tickling your nose. You knew from experience that most men came quicker if you fondled their balls. You squeezed his heavy, swollen sacs, making him hiss and violate your throat.
Toji couldn’t hold back. His release came with a roar, numbing your scalp from how tightly he was pulling on it. The thin ropes of his release and your saliva formed as he pulled out. You swallowed whatever was left around your mouth. To please him further, as if assaulting your throat wasn’t enough, you lapped at his tip like a devoted kitten. “You’re so good to me, baby.” 
That’s all you wanted to hear. 
“Turn around,” he commanded, and without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. “What a sight.” His hand glided over your left ass cheek tenderly before delivering a firm smack that made you jolt forward. Toji mirrored the action on your right cheek, preparing you while coating the tip of his cock with slickness from your own arousal. “Gonna put it in now, sweetheart.” 
“Finally, Jesus.” 
Toji spanked your ass which only elicited a giggle out of you. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing soon, baby.” 
He pushed into you in one-quick go. 
You cried out and grabbed the top of the headboard with your sweaty palms. He pulled out just to the hilt then drove back in. The air smelled like your sweat and perfume and sex. Every nerve in your body was alive, your heart pounding fiercely as if trying to escape your chest. Your face flushed with heat, your blood singing with desire.
You moaned and cried and screamed his name, driving him to complete madness with the word “Daddy.” You begged him to go faster, push harder, to have you sore for weeks so you didn’t have to get out of his bed, out of his arms, out of his home. You wanted this to be your home. 
Toji spanked your ass repeatedly, skin slapping against skin, palming the back of your head so that your face was crushed on his pillow. It smelled like firewood. Smelled like him. You wanted to steal it, take it home, sleep with it, ride it while whispering his name. 
You both came together. 
Toji’s hot seed filled your stretched hole. He withdrew slowly, a teasing sensation that left you craving more. With deft fingers, he ensured not a drop was wasted. 
You collapsed onto your stomach, catching your breath before summoning the strength to turn and face him.
He exhaled heavily, laying beside you “Fuck, that was . . .” 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh, yeah.” 
“Best yeah.” You draped yourself onto his chest and kissed his chin. He massaged his fingers through your throbbing scalp, the other hand caressing your numb, bruised ass. 
Toji twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Does this make-up for missing your graduation?” 
You flicked his forehead. “I haven’t forgiven you for that.” 
“Maybe I should miss more of your events if this is the reward I’m gonna get.” 
You scowled. “I dare you to repeat that again.” 
Toji ironed out your scowl with his thumb. You kissed the pad of his rough finger, twice. “My cards are on the table for you, sweetheart.” 
Your lips met his, whispering, “I folded a while ago, Daddy.” 
“Fuck,” he breathed out. With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Round two, kid.” 
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jyoongim · 3 months
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THE WAY U WRITE THE OLD RED DEMON MAN IS JUST SO NEKEKDKEOWB
Might I just add onto the seemingly continuous alastor requests. I'd love to see Alastor x Reader where reader is in heat and Al finds it pathetic but takes pity on them and helps anyway bc like poor thing can't even get their own instincts in control they're obviously hopeless
warnings: 18+!!!NSFW
You thought when you died you would be rid of hormones.
Periods were a pain while living, but this is was worst.
When you were alive, your periods plagued you with mood swings, random cravings, and pain.
Now that you were dead, you didn’t experience the dreadful red flood and raging mood swings; no. Now all you felt was unbelievably horny and needy.
And you hated it.
You usually carried yourself with confidence and elegance.
You usually liked to help around the hotel and were generally friendly with everyone.
You grimaced as you woke up to feel just how drenched your panties were. I really need to stock up on new underwear you thought as you tossed the ruined panties into the hamper.
You usually spent your heats alone and could hide in a hole until you felt normal again. You usually could control yourself well enough til you had enough free time to ease the tension between your legs.
Or until you found a poor sinner.
Weeeeellll that was hard when you lived in a hotel with a ton of shit to do. You really didn’t want to hear Angel’s jabs as you dragged some unfortunate soul to endear your sex rage.
You sighed, hopefully you could get through the next few days without embarrassing yourself completely.
So far so good you thought as you went about your day doing whatever activity Charlie had you do with the group.
Every touch and scent didn’t send your cunt into a tingling frenzy; yes you had to change your panties a few times but nothing crazy.
That was until you were around Alastor.
Your body practically buzzed whenever the tall red demon was in your vicinity.
You first chalked it up to that it was because you did found him attractive and simply thought it would go away.
But your cunt begged a differ.
You squirmed a bit on the couch as Alastor took a seat beside you, clenching your thighs to ease the uncomfortable throbbing.
It didn’t help that he smelled amazing.
Alastor smelled like evergreens how y’all ever smelled Christmas pine??? That shit is delicious!!!!
And you didn’t realized you had took a deep inhale of him until he turned to you
”Is everything alright my dear?” He asked, eyebrows raised.
fuck how were you going to tell him you wanted to bury your nose into his neck and just SNIFF? 
“O-oh I’m f-fine…i-its just you smelled nice?” You wanted to facepalm.
He blinked at you before letting out a laugh “OOooh why thank you my dear” that shit eating grin widened, voice dropping a slight octave“I must smell very enticing if you’re sniffing at me” his eyes narrowed slightly.
A shiver ran through your body and you swear you were leaking through onto the couch. You wanted to die of embarrassment.
“I-I just never noticed before that’s all” You said shrugging, trying to ignore the fact that his very voice was affecting you.
Charlie had ended whatever the hell you were doing and you quickly made your way to your room, causing some confusion.
You were usually a social butterfly with the gang. You never not chat away with Angel as he told the wild shit he did on set.
“Has got to be that time of the month” Angel commented as you almost sprinted out the room. Charlie and Vaggie gave confused looks ”what?” He sighed “You know…” nope not a clue.
”She was a human remember? Every so often her pussy basically shreds itself to bits”
Charlie gasped “So she’s hurt? Shouldn’t we do something?” Angel laughed,shaking his head “Nah we can’t help. But she'll be fine. Just give her a few days and she'll be normal again”
Alastor was in the background listening, the smile on his face sharpened, you weren’t hurt or bleeding, but there was definitely something that could be done.
You snarled as your vibrator died and tossed it. You groaned as your clit continued to throb. You had thought four orgasms would have did the trick but nope you still had the irritating itch.
You didn’t own a dildo because it was pointless.
it wasn’t the real thing.
You wanted to cry. This was your first heat while you’ve been at the hotel and you didn’t just want to drag a stranger here.
You had more control than that.
At least that’s what you thought.
You had locked yourself in your room as you tore your room to bits. The walls were shredded, pillows and sheets drenched in slick and your poor toy was in pieces.
Panting, you curled in a corner and tugged at your hair, squeezing your eyes tight as tears began to pool in your eyes.
You hated this.
 You hated how it felt like you didn’t even feel like yourself. 
Hated that you couldn’t even control your own damn bodily function.
Hated how your body desperately wanted to be filled.
You would give anything to make this horrid feat of yours go away.
“I would have never thought to see you in such a state my dear”
You froze at the voice and jerked your head to the source.
Alastor.
He was standing at the entrance of your bedroom, a smirk on his face as he took in the state of your room.
”I must say, it. Is rather entertaining to see your lack of control” he said as he approached your curled form.
He crouched down, feigning a concerned look before a clawed hand seized your hair and wrenched your face til your noses were bumping against each other.
”did you think I couldn’t smell you?” He growled “You smell just like a bitch in heat”
You whimpered as his lips ghosted over yours “I-I’m sorry”
His scent was surrounding you. It was a drug. Assaulting your every nerve with each breath you took.
He smelled so good 
please
”Please” you whispered as your cunt buzzed, tingling from his clos proximity and in hopes he would have mercy on you.
Alastor sucked his teeth at you. What a pitiful thing you were…
With a deep breathe, he stood and walked over to your ruined bed and sat. You watched as he sat his mic down and removed his coat. Yanking at his tie, he unbuttoned his shirt and looked over at you with narrowed eyes “Well? Do you want to continue to ruin your furnishings or do you wish to satisfy that brazen desire of yours?”
He widened his legs and your eyes honed in on how he unbuckled his pants.
Your throat tightened and you found yourself crawling over to him, no regard that you were naked.
Kneeling between his legs, your hands soothed up his thighs as your rubbed your head against his crotch.
Alastor lifted your chin for your eyes to meet his. Your eyes were blown out and you winced as his grip tightened.
”I pity you my dear, reduced to wanton whore, but don’t fret…Ill help you through your heat” a thumb ran over your pouty lip.
Your cunt clenched around nothing at his words.
You damn near drooled as he adjusted himself to pull his cock free from its restraints.
It was big, in both length and girth. It slapped against your face, causing you to hum at the weight of it.
You nuzzled it, nose gliding along his length before softly pressing kissed along it. When you came to his mushroom tip, you didn’t hesitate to suck at it. Alastor sighed as you gave the head of his cock kitten licks.
Head clouded with desire, you slowly bobbed your head along his length, taking him whole as you gagged once you reached the hilt.
You eased him out your throat and with a sickening pop, you admired as his spit-covered cock shined. You opted to jerk him off slowly as you buried your nose in his ball, inhaling his scent.
Alastor’s hand found your hair and guided you away from his cock, bringing you to climb up his body, until your smoldering heat was rubbing against his cock as he pressed kisses to your shoulder and neck. A gasp tore from your throat as he nipped at your jaw.
”On fours my dear”
Clumsily, you scrambled to follow his instruction. You must not have been to his liking because he pressed your head til your cheek was flat to the bed, back in a deep low arch, thighs pressed to your stomach and spreaded wide with your ass and cunt exposed to the air. 
You would have blushed in embarrassment if you weren’t so turned on.
A hand glided down your back, causing you to shiver and then jolt as a harsh slap was planted on your ass, before it soothed over the burning cheek.
Alastor kneaded your ass before sliding his fingers down to your cunt.
Your slit was swollen and your clit, puffy with need. 
You were dripping.
He dipped a finger inside you, testing how wet you were.
Soppy. 
He added a second, your cunt greedily welcomed his fingers with ease, giving into resistance.
He chuckled “What a greedy cunt, sucking in my fingers like a cock”
You whined when he took his fingers out, already missing the feel of something inside you.
Alastor took his cock and rubbed it against your cunt, coating himself in your slick.
”I am going to fuck you to your little sinful heart desires and you are going to be grateful of everything I give you. You are going to take every bit of my cum until it spills from this cunt and then again and again until I have bred you so thoroughly. Do you understand slut?”
You were breathing heavily, trembling in excitement.
With a single, sharp thrust he filled your cunt, earning a soft cry from you.
”Do you understand?”he hissed through clenched teeth.
”Y-Yes A-Alastor”. you whimpered, eyes clenched shut in pleasure.
”Good girl”
He drew back and thrusted into you again
And again
And again
He had set a slow, but rough pace. Thrusting his cock deep into the soft warmth of your cunt with each drag.
Soft moans filled the air as he buried his cock inside you.
It felt so good. 
He reached depths your finger couldn’t quite reach.
And it was amazing.
”A-Ala-stor Aah! Aaah! Hah!” You pushed your hips against his, mewling loudly as he grinned his cock into you.
”Youre pathetic ” He laughed, eyes watching his cock disappeared inside you, giving you a hard thrust at his words.
”Nothing but pathetic slut who can’t control their own body”
His grip on your hips pulled you flushed against him, making you take him til his balls was nestled against your slit.
”You probably would have spreaded your legs for any poor sinner, just wanting to be fucked dumb” Your body rippled as his thrusts got harder.
Your cunt only got wetter.
He noticed as he seemed to sink even deeper into you, as if your cunt loosened to welcome him
”oh? I bet you would have liked that wouldn’t you? So out of sorts with need that you would have just anyone bred this cunt”
He growled at the squelching noises from your cunt, you shook your head in denial.
No. No you wouldn’t haven’t done something like that.
”N-no I-I wouldn’t-” You cried out as his finger ghosted over your swollen clit.
”You would have been happy to bend over and offer your cunt to anyone, as long as you had a cock fill you” Alastor continued before a cruel, deep laugh erupted from him
”But instead you sought me out. I had no intention in satisfying you, but what a gentleman would i had been if I ignored a lady in need?” You felt him lean over, hips never missing a beat as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.
”Oooh how fortunate you are my dear”
You were suddenly flipped onto your back. Hair sprawled around you like a halo, your chest heaving as he pushed your knees to your chin. 
Your lidded eyes watching as he slide his cock between your pussy lips, bumping your clit. He grabbed your wrists, using them as leverage as he thrusted back into you, the new angle making your throw your head back with a broken cry
”FuuuuuUccckk Ah Ah AH!” His hips dug into the underside of your ass as he pounded your cunt.
Alastor hadn’t lost composure the entire time he fucked you.
He watched as you fell apart, your hips wiggling to accommodate to his harsh administrations.
Your cunt took him so good. A white, creamy ring formed at his base as he scraped against that sponges nerve inside you.
You welcomed him gratefully. Letting him wrench pleasurable sounds from your pretty lips.
Pushing your raised legs apart, he lowered his weight on you as he slammed his lips on yours, swallowing your moans. Your tongues danced as he rocked into your body.
The sounds of him ruining your cunt pushed him to fulfill your primal desire.
You felt that familiar blaze of heat take over your body as Alastor fucked short rapid thrusts into you.
Every brush of his abdomen against your clit had your cunt going haywire.
You were going to cum.
Alastor was going to make you cum.
You moaned at the thought
You were gonna cum on his cock
And he was gonna breed you
Breed your soppy cunt
and you were going to let him
”please….” You whined into his mouth
Fuck the very thought had your body buzzing.
”please what?” he purred
Your head was reeling, foggy with the need to be filled.
A hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing
“What are you begging me for slut? Hmm?” His strokes were hitting harder and deeper.
”You want me to breed your cunt? You want to me to fill you up so good that all you’ll ever think is how my cum belongs inside you? What do the little slut want?”
Yes you wanted all of it.
You wanted him to fuck you so good, you wouldn’t even think of wanting another cock from his.
You wanted him to fill your cunt to the brim and then fuck it back inside.
You wanted him to breed you like the little slut you were.
To breed you til he had his fill.
Your instincts had practically took over, fuck sanity.
”Mhmm! I want it. I want you to Ah! I want you to fill me with your cum! Please please breed me Alastor” You whined, feeling your belly clench as your orgasm hung over you, promising sweet relief.
The hand around your throat, tightened causing you to gasp as he spoke into your ear, voice deep and purring
”Youre gonna make yourself cum on my cock slut”
your hand flew to your clit to flick fast circles on the bud.
Alastor’s thrusts quickened, growls pouring from his lips
”Who’s a filthy little slut?”
”M-Me”
”Whos a pathetic slut that’s gonna take my cum?”
”Me!”
”Fucking slut gonna let be breed her dumb”
A sob tore from you as your orgasm washed over you, he fucked you as you milked him, hips angled to thrusts so deep you’re sure your cunt had molded into the shape of his cock
”hah hah aaah fuuucckk fuck fuck Al-Alastor!”
You saw white as your mouth opened in a silent scream only for him to swallow the whine in your throat.
”That’s it you pathetic slut take it. Take my cum. That’s a good girl. Let me breed this sweet cunt cher” your hips raised as he sunk into you and with a deep groan, he cummed into your spasming cunt, making sure to thrust deep enough he hit your cervix as he painted your walls white.
Whether conscious or by instinct, you gave him a ditzy smile, eyes glazed over as you slowly rubbed your clit, whimpering. Holding eye contact with him, a soft pout graced your lips
“Again”
You truly were a pathetic, needy little thing.
But don’t worry pretty Doe, Alastor’s going to make sure you
satisfied and stuffed to your heart’s content
 It was going to be very interesting for the next 36 hours…
@markster666 @alastorsfawn @senseichaos @alastoralltruist @dasimp777 @imgonnadielaughing-blog @thewinchestah @strawberrypimp666 @tpks @stygianoir @polytheatrix @prosciuttosblog @angelltheninth @peachedtv @yourdoorisunlocked @kiralaufeyson84
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deargojou · 3 months
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【 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 (𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘) 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐒𝐒 】
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You felt a sharp smack on your ass as you stood at the kitchen counter making your morning coffee. Nearly sloshing your creamer all over the place, you turned and gave Gojo an exasperated look.
“Really?” you sighed.
He stood there, grinning unapologetically. “I can’t help it! Your butt is just so cute and round, like a little peach.” To emphasize his point, he gave your ass another hearty squeeze.
You rolled your eyes, unable to stop a small chuckle from escaping. Gojo had always found enjoyment when it came to grabbing your rear end. Ever since you started dating, he took immense joy in smacking, squeezing, or groping your ass at any given opportunity.
At first, it flustered and embarrassed you. But now, after nearly a year together, you were used to his playful antics.
Mostly, you found it endearing―when he wasn’t going overboard, that is.
After doctoring up your coffee, you crossed to the small kitchen table and sat down to enjoy your breakfast. Gojo’s long fingers immediately crept under the back of your chair, finding and pinching your ass. You jumped, nearly choking on your coffee.
“Satoru!” you scolded.
He laughed, clearly delighting in having caught you off guard. “Sorry, baby~ I just can’t resist! Your butt is so tempting.”
You fixed him with your best withering look, which only made him grin wider. With a dramatic sigh, you went back to sipping your coffee and reading the news on your phone.
After cleaning up from breakfast, you decided to be productive and tidy up the living room. You began dusting the shelves and surfaces, pointedly ignoring Gojo sitting on the couch behind you.
You were bent over wiping down the TV stand when you felt a sharp smack on your ass. You stood up swiftly, whirling around to face your snickering boyfriend.
“Satoru! Enough already!” you huffed.
“Sorry, I just couldn't stop myself,” he claimed innocently. “You were bent over right in front of me, it was too perfect to pass up.”
Despite your exasperation, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “You are terrible.”
Gojo grinned, completely unrepentant. He patted his knee in an invitation. “Come here and sit with me.”
You eyed him warily. “So you can grope my butt some more?”
“Maybe,” he smirked. Still, you found yourself settling onto his lap. His arms wrapped around you as you leaned into his chest.
“You know, I just love you so much, I can’t keep my hands off you,” Gojo murmured into your hair.
“Of course I know that. And I don’t really mind. Just maybe tone it down a little in public, please?”
Gojo let out a chuckle, “I’ll try, but no promises. Your butt is just too glorious not to be appreciated whenever possible.”
To emphasize his point, his hand drifted down to squeeze your ass again. You yelped in surprise, then dissolved into giggles.
After a lazy morning cuddling on the couch, you stood up and announced you were going to take a shower. As you walked away, you paused and looked over your shoulder.
“Don’t even think about it,” you warned, seeing him poised to strike.
He put his hands up innocently. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”
You narrowed your eyes but continued to the bathroom. You took your time enjoying a long, hot shower, allowing the water to soothe away any tension. After toweling off, you slid into comfy housewear.
Walking back out into the living room toweling your hair dry, you didn’t see Gojo. You breathed a small sigh of relief, glad to have a reprieve from his antics.
You padded into the kitchen in search of a snack. Humming to yourself, you bent down to rifle through the fridge.
Suddenly, you felt two large hands squeeze your ass enthusiastically. You shrieked in surprise, bumping your head on the fridge shelf. Spinning around, you saw Gojo doubled over in laughter.
“Satoru! You scared me!” you scolded, though you were fighting back laughter yourself.
“I’m sorry! I couldn't resist with you bent over like that,” Gojo claimed between snickers.
You swatted his chest with the towel still in your hand. “That’s it, no more Ms. Nice Girlfriend. I’m going to get you back for this!”
“Oh, really? I’d like to see you try.”
You fixed him with your best menacing look. Though inside, you were turning over ideas for how to give him a taste of his own medicine.
The perfect opportunity arose that evening. You and Gojo were settling into bed after a lazy day spent lounging around the apartment. As you slid under the covers, a delightfully wicked idea came to you.
You rolled onto your side, turning your back to Gojo. After a few minutes, you felt the bed dip as he scooted closer to you. One of his arms wrapped around your waist in a spooning cuddle.
You held your breath, waiting for the opportune moment. When you felt his hand slide down to cup your bottom, you struck. In one swift movement, you whipped around and delivered a sharp smack to Gojo’s pajama-clad ass.
“Hey!” he yelped in surprise.
You collapsed into laughter at the shocked expression on his face. “Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” you teased.
“I’ve created a monster!” His surprise morphed into an impressed grin. “But I have to admit, I liked it.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Don’t get too excited. That was payback for earlier.” Settling back down, you added, “But maybe I’ll spank you again if you behave yourself.”
“Oh, kinky~” Gojo barked out a delighted laugh and pulled you close. “I knew I loved you for a reason.” He nuzzled into your neck, his earlier antics temporarily forgotten.
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deafsignifcantother · 3 months
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the v's reaction to someone taking your hearing aid
♥ summary: "what the Vees would do if they noticed their partially deaf s/o being picked on - like the other people would tear out their hearing aid(s) and break them and stuff" @aceduchessdragoness ♥ characters: velvette, vox, valentino ♥ notes: screaming and crying okay so i did val's spanish as spain spanish bc i think spain sign language would be better than narrowing his signs down to a specific latin american country but if the translation is cringe then tell me bc i'm literally using an lse dictionary
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Vox
♥ word count: 1.9k ♥ notes: i use [Y/N] for the first time in my career ong, she/her pronouns used in third person, reader doesn't speak and only signs, protective but violent vox, vox in a healthy relationship, reader gets harassed in public
It was never a mystery to you how Vox always knew where you were. Even without the watch on your wrist, you felt his eyes on you, the looming knowledge of persistent monitoring.
Not that it bothered you, of course. If anything, you were worried that he wanted to spend his time watching you instead of running his business. But whatever, it was flattering.
Whenever you went on your routine errands, you would smile at every television or security camera you encountered. On the big screens in Vox's room, he feels like the common softening of his heart. Your smile always seems so genuine. How can somebody like you adore him so much?
.
Blue light illuminates your living room. From the kitchen, you groan as you make your way to the television. Can he stop bothering you at this hour? All you wanted to do was get some damn water, but of course, as always, he's monitoring you.
Words pop up on the screen as you approach it. You rub your eyes, the brightness overwhelming. You reach for your coffee table.
GO TO SLEEP
With the sudden click of the remote, you smile as the screen goes black. One, two, three... it lights up again.
DON'T TRY
Again, the screen goes black. One... again, a bright blue illuminates you.
[Y/N]. The television shakes.
You snicker at him, finally sitting on the floor and putting the remove down. On the other side of that screen, Vox sits on his swivel chair, gazing up at you, your frame taking up multiple monitors. Your eyes look below where his point of view is.
"It's late," you sign, and the light makes your hands shine in the darkness. "Dim it a little."
He listens; his small act of consideration makes you melt. Your eyes soften immensely. Internally, he begs you to stop looking at him like that; it's embarrassing how good it makes him feel.
The television is still a blinding blue as you go from the living room to the bedroom; he follows you per any screen by your side. Worst of all, a flat-screen faces your bed, which was mandatory.
"Goodnight, Vox." You sign while putting your face up to the screen.
You turn this TV off, and to your delight, it stays off.
.
With a yawn, you stretch your morning aches away and lean your head against the table of your vanity. You get a few seconds of shut-eye before popping back up. Vox is watching; if he notices you're tired, he will try to be domestic and nap with you regardless of how much work you must do today. So you rub away your sleepy eyes and massage the tension in your jaw. Putting on your hearing aid is first on your daily to-do list; you'd like to hear if he pops up on your television and decides to update you on his morning. Sometimes, he gets so impatient. Next, while picking up your moisturizer, you try not to shiver at the coldness once it touches your fingers.
You wish yourself a good morning before rubbing it in.
At the same time of day, Vox was already up and doing his rounds, making sure his employees were getting work done. He gets antsy between when you wake up, and you get to the tower. Every morning once he sees you entering the elevator, he'll wait on the other side to welcome you in with a kiss to the forehead.
Vox checks his watch. It shows his favorite things: your vitals, location, and pretty little face whenever you dial him.
You've finally left your place, thank goodness. Pacing aimlessly has never looked good on him.
.
He stands by his window, looking down at the streets below, watching you approach. You're wearing your usual uniform, one that he picked out just for you; it consists of the same red and blue stripes he has on his everyday suit. It makes you an eyesore in the everyday crowd.
If you didn't know any better, you'd lift your head to see if you could spot him among the many stories. The building is beautiful, overpowering. The V tower's magnificent brightness outshines the rest of the V district. The constant noise of people always has you walking with your hearing aid turned as low as it can go without turning off.
With the pink light reflecting off your face, you look both ways before crossing the street, a bright smile on your face, stepping onto the asphalt before a hand grabs your wrist.
Vox furrows his brow at the sight.
You turn your head and see a friendly reporter and a cameraman, the camera not yet rolling. Your pupils flicker between them.
"Hello!" She smiles, removing her hand. With caution, you fully face her, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The 'professional' persona you've been forced to practice is finally coming to fruition.
"Hello! I'm Deaf; I don't think I'd be able to do an interview."
She flicks her hand and rolls her eyes in the most friendly way possible. "Not a problem," she signs, moving the microphone vibrantly, "I can work this out, no problem!"
You widen your eyes in a wowwwww, oh my god, that's perfect... "Oh, what a kind woman you are!"
Vox? You beg internally. Baby? Save me.
Up high, he doesn't remove his eyes from you. With the use of sign language, he can't listen in, and he can't tell whether he needs to intervene or not. There's nothing wrong with going to check, right? Or will he seem possessive, or scared? He doesn't want people to think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone. It's good that you get to sign to someone other than him and Velvette, right?
The camera starts rolling, and you square your shoulders, adjusting your sleeves for more mobility. The news reporter throws the microphone at the cameraman, who does not catch it but ignores it as she shows off her brightest smile.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I have the sweetest person in hell with me, [y/n]! Tell me, how long have you two been together?"
Of course, the news has been recognizing you recently. You've been seen countless times adjusting Vox's tie (he purposely fucks it up so that you'll step close to him) as well as wrapping your arm around his and pinching the corner of his screen endearingly before you give him a babying compliment. Many people have taken pictures and edited hearts around you two. People are obsessed with how "heavenly" your relationship is.
"Oh, many months now!" You nod to yourself, trying to stop your eyes from shining with admiration. You always get so soft when you think about him; it's one of the things people notice. She looks at him as if he's her entire world.
"Beautiful!" The reporter puffs out her bottom lip innocently. "I'm sure you make that man very happy."
What do you even say to that? I hope so.
"The happiest."
"Now," she doesn't hesitate to change the topic. "Are there any challenges you two face about your... differences?"
Your eyebrows raise before furrowing in confusion. Differences? At first, you think she means his television head, but when she notices you pause, she rudely clarifies. "I mean, with your lack of hearing, you know? Don't you find it a little embarrassing?"
You lean your body away from her. "What are you saying?"
The shock of the tonal shift has you freezing in place. The reporter looks at the camera, her eyes squinting with sadistic amusement. Her fingers twitch as she lifts her arm, not even looking at you before plucking the hearing aid from your ears. She crushes it in her hand.
At first, you grab your ear, pressing your hand to it in disbelief. Your face contorts, your shoulders dropping as you try to step away. Why couldn't you see this coming? And on television—is that where this is airing? The air around you goes quiet, the sensation of spatial awareness fading a bit as you stumble back, your hand still grasping your ear. The watch on your wrist hits your cheek, and without a second thought, you tap on the screen repeatedly. The next thing that popped into your head: her bravery is the most surprising.
With a brief fall of light, Vox stands where the lady once was. You eye him with uncertainty, a look you have never given him. He faces the cameraman, not looking your way. Your eyes go up and down his body; his stance is tense, his arms are folded behind his back, and his fingers sparking with small glimmers of electricity.
You see that lying behind him is the woman, body entirely limp, smoke coming from her mouth, and her eyes looking stuck open.
He speaks to the camera, pointing his finger at it, staring intensely into the shaking, blinking red light. Your hands link around his bicep. Composure, you remind yourself. You turn to the camera with a weary smile and lean your head against him.
.
"That'll never happen again." He stares at himself in the mirror. His dressers and tables are filled with claw marks from his previous meltdowns.
You just sit on his bed, crossing your legs uncomfortably, watching him as he goes back and forth between signing to you and mumbling to himself. You haven't said a word. You just keep your eyes on him.
He protected you in the way he knew best. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on the sides of her head and crush her skull. It would stain his suit, awful. Even worse, your suit would have been ruined, too.
Should he force you to move into the tower? He's always wanted to. The commute would be no more, and you'd be safe from the outside.
Should he prevent you from leaving at all without him? No, that might be too much, but his entire body craves to keep you secure and protected.
He won't ask you what you want. He knows there's a chance you would just coddle him and tell him it's okay. There's no reality where he will do nothing; he must devise his own plan. But first (actually, secondly, after getting his anger out on his furniture), he wants to make sure his sweetheart is okay.
Once he calmed down and sat next to you, rubbing your thigh, he watched as you scrolled through social media, looking at the hundreds of people laughing and reposting the event. He shuts off your phone, grabs it, and tosses it across the room. You roll your eyes helplessly before he lifts his hands and signs to you.
"I will track everyone down and punish them severely, baby. No one will ever touch you again, or else they will the next flashing headline."
"I know, baby," you wrap your arms around his chest and lean into him, rubbing your cheek against the smoothness of his overcoat.
You hum against him, finding it in yourself to smile softly. Protector, protector, protector. You run those words through your head; they're comforting to their own extent. Suppose he ends up locking you inside the tower. In that case, it's better than him leaving you entirely over this (which, obviously, he'd never actually do). Spending every morning and night with him wouldn't be wrong. Everything happens for a reason.
He leans back onto the bed, his feet dangling off as you curl into his side.
Before resting completely, you use a hand to sign into his chest. "Everything will be fine."
Your coddling, though annoying, provides the most relaxing warmth to his body. He groans, wrapping an arm lazily around you, feeling the usual butterflies in his stomach as you press a small kiss to his collarbone.
.
.
.
Velvette
♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: reader speaks, part scene, getting harassed by a man, vox is in this too ♥ a/n: i completely headcanon that velvette took an asl class in highschool when she was alive, i have no idea how velvette usually acts in fanfiction so this is MY velvette now
Velvette found you, such a pretty thing, in your little corner of the internet, making content for your little community. That little corner of yours is where you told the news and interpreted a lot of banter from the overlords. Your channel was the perfect mix of education and drama, all for the Deaf community in Hell.
You were, as Velvette described, a tea channel.
She invited you to the V tower to show you around. The three V's introduced themselves to you in their own way, offering you a job. The bossman, ever so gentlemanly and charming, didn't let Valentino try and make sex motions to you for longer than necessary. And before Velvette forced Vox to scurry off, she forced him to snap a few pics of you posing with her as a faux collab.
You weren't stupid. You knew Velvette only wanted your attention to spread whatever brand she endeavored to popularize. But this might be a golden opportunity. You'd learn the behind-the-scenes from three different overlords, and the content you can produce will gather insane traction.
.
Velvette is just so sweet; the way she showed her care for you was just through gift-giving.
She loved putting together gift boxes for you, similar to the sorority kind. The boxes went from cute little baskets to a cardboard box resembling a PR send. These would always be set on your desk with a bit of note from her, each time she'd signed off her name with a heart.
Jackets, shoes, candies, jewelry, pens, everything. The gifts are versatile with familiar themes of hearts. Every day was like Valentine's Day when she was 'courting' you (did she even realize she was?).
She made you bags: totes, crossbody bags, clutches, phone pouches, coin purses, anything she thought you would need with an array of colors to match any outfit. She put in hair clips and pocket mirrors, cozy slippers and fancy journals.
She even got you two matching bracelets.
You love the smirk she wears whenever she notices you adorning anything she's given to you. Damn right, she thinks, I knew it would look good.
The most enormous box she'd ever given you was the day before one of her fashion shows. Inside were glorious clothes from her collection, all for you to pick out and wear. She really loved her stripes.
You put your hearing aid on, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you watch the charm she made you glisten in the light. With your bracelet ornamenting your wrist, you pat down your stripped outfit before taking a deep breath.
.
Your entrance reeks of reluctance. The temptation to retreat back to your room is unbearable. Seeing Velvette will definitely lift your mood; where is she? Surely, she'd be the highlight of the room, but amongst all the women with their eccentric colors and clothing shapes, you can't find your eye drawing to her anywhere.
The sounds of the party blend together in a nasty concoction; you can't help but turn your hearing aids off. The sound is similar to what it's like being outside in a heavy storm; the wind, the pouring rain, the blur and whine of the hearing aids. And instead of lingering by the double doors, you push into the crowd. You're the least recognizable in the crowd of celebrities, but it doesn't stop people from moving out of the way when you try to wiggle through. You're wearing stripes, her stripes. You're either bold or very special to her; they don't want to intervene.
But your stripes also get some people to stare at you longer than they would have otherwise. Across the room, in front of you, you notice a tall, almost shirtless model coming your way, directly staring at you. You break the quick eye contact before squeezing through a cluster of girls taking selfies. They won't let you through, grimacing but not laying any hands on you. When you turn to go the other way, the man is behind you, holding out his hand, waiting for you to put your hand in his.
You click on your hearing aid and scroll up. "What did you say?" You ask verbally, clearing your throat a bit.
His eyes bounce from yours to your hand, looking at what you're touching. His head tilts in interest. You don't like the sight of his smile.
"Oh wow." He says.
Immediately, "Yeah, no," Velvette puts her hands on your shoulders and tries to push you away. "I swear, don't even look at him, he's fucking insane."
He speaks over her, but you can't process his words over how close Velvette's lips are to your ear. Her warm breath sends goosebumps down your arms, and your spine straightens. This only makes her hum in amusement.
After turning and growling at him, she effortlessly maneuvers you away. Eyes watch you even closer now as she touches you. You let her guide you throughout the room with not a clue as to where she's leading you, if anywhere. But eventually, you two end up in front of a mirror the size of a wall.
She stares at you through the mirror. "Look at you," she signs, "extravagant as ever, darling."
"Thanks to you."
"Obviously." And she bumps her hip into yours. You laugh, mimicking the motion back.
You had ditched your initial motive of getting close to the V's to gain more information about them. They were fine people to hang out with, making you laugh and feel involved. Velvette gave you special attention that nobody in your afterlife has ever given. Her lipstick left stains on your cheek whenever she kissed you, and she made an 'appointment' in her schedule once a week to paint your nails the same black color as hers.
The afternoon went by quickly; you spent time clapping and watching models show off their garb. Velvette is a true talent.
But something ruined your evening. The air hummed with laughter and the rhythmic beat of music. Velvette had been whisked away by the other V's to overlook the crowd and count the people who had attended. Among the colorful crowd stood a familiar figure whose eyes sparkled with mischief. Different from last time, you don't notice when he starts to approach again.
"You," he coos, placing his hand under your chin. You must stare at his lips to comprehend his words over the music, an awful innuendo you wish you could have avoided. He leaned in closer to you, and in return, you leaned back. Valentino had told you a bunch of times to not worry if someone puts their hands on you, that it's a typical formality in Hell. You would always roll your eyes at him, never expecting a stranger to grab you like this.
You were mentally preparing yourself to dodge a kiss. But then, daringly, he leaned in and gently plucked the hearing aid from behind your ear, holding it aloft like a trophy. Fear flickered across your face, your hand instinctively reaching for it, but he pulled it away. The charm Velvette gave you dangles like a jewel.
"Don't," you say with desperation. He puts a finger in front of your face and waves it back and forth. He coos, using that hand to grab your face as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
Your eyes are locked on the charm, and it's brash jolts. You almost beg for him to just give you the charm back.
In the middle of a conversation with Vox, Velvette raises an eyebrow; shocked and pissed, she glared at whoever had torn off your hearing aid. She mumbles, "I'd tear their hearing aid off and break it."
Before she can move closer to you, Vox puts his hand in front of her while watching the interaction. "Think before acting, Velvette."
Her frustration turns into anger as she pushes his hand away. He lets her run off; he holds a hard stare as her pink hair bobs through the crowd.
Your eyes are stuck wide with shock, and a million things run through your head, all relating to the appropriate situational response.
True to your casual self, you were having a hard time not just jamming your hand in his eyes and kicking his shins. Would you make Velvette mad? Vox?--Would that result in you being removed from the V Tower? It's all so complicated. Though you were panicking over a 'quick' decision, you and the man stayed in that position for a few seconds. He stayed laughing, dropping the hearing aid and stomping on it.
At almost the same time, Velvette threw a glass from someone's hand at the man, perfectly aimed, hitting him in the face. She lets out a small "nice!" before rushing to you.
Her hand runs down your face, and she holds you tenderly, not turning to face Vox as he puts himself between her and the man. Your eyes bounce around the entire room. Will you ever get a break from being at the center of attention?
"We're leaving. Now." she signs in a single motion so quick that it makes you smile, relieving some of the stress that's been making your head pound. She's able to sign so naturally now.
The crowd splits into two.
Behind the both of you, Vox is declaring an end to the event, apologizing to the people for the inconvenience. Velvette keeps muttering about him under her breath; you can see her lips moving and her face grimacing.
.
She has beads in front of her, a bunch of small charms with string. She signs, looking up at you. "I should have killed him."
You just watch her craft another charm, laying on her bed and kicking your feet. "That would have been funny."
She scoffs and smiles, her painted lips turning upwards. Her fingers trace over the beads, deciding which one to pick up. She wants to make it different than the last one, but what should it look like? She picks up a pink heart with a slight hum before sliding it down onto the string. She whispers to herself, perfect.
.
.
.
Valentino
♥ word count: 1.7k ♥ note: reader is a vodka drinker, i'm obsessed with writing a loving valentino, reader doesn't talk very much and prefers sign, sexually suggestive things happening but it's not nsfw, kinda written like ass, drugs mentioned but no named just symptoms, takes place on porn set, valentino kills someone, blood description
Every time you step into the studio, you're hit by the smell of sex, mostly the sweetened stench of that strawberry lube he loves so much. Visiting his work is not usually something you do often, but he's seem to be so busy lately that you can't help but bring him a drink, the most beautiful drink in hell: vanilla vodka. You can already see him licking him lips.
Strawberry lube, so prominent in your nose.
His legs are crossed and he stares at the scene in front of him, his sunglasses hiding whatever his emotions are, but his lips are still in a prominent scowl.
Though, when he sees you, his expression changes drastically. He stands with so much excitement that the actors stop to see what he's reacting to. All eyes are on you, you shy away from the attention a bit but Val doesn't seem to notice, else care.
"Amor mío!" One of his hands signs, running down his cheek while his bottom two motions for a hug.
Before you can initiate a hug, he wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, trapping your arms in. He's warm, vibrantly so, it's hard not to melt against him. You couldn't be surprised if you let out a small moan at the contact. Oh, how I've missed you so much.
He pulls away quicker than you'd like and takes the bottle from your hand, holding it up close to his face so he can examine it. "Burnett's, oh you shouldn't have!"
He hesitates, torn between his responsibilities and the irresistible allure of having a drink with the person he was enamored with. He's not so easy to whisk away from work, therefore (of course), you seem to be the only person who he is at every beck and call.
You smile softly, "I knew you'd like it."
With a laugh, he takes your hand and spins you, his free hands popping open the bottle, ready to embark on whatever journey you had in store.
He turns and addresses his employees, granting them a small break before turning to you with his sharp smile.
And together, you slip away from the set, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the studio for a simple moment of peace and luxury. Walls blazed with hues of pink and blue, you both find yourselves nestled on the fluffy couch in a lounge, a wineglass in your hand while he chugs from the bottle.
"You've been so busy." You sign. You switch the wineglass into your non dominant hand to avoid spilling any of the contents. Val holds the bottle with his bottom set of hands while signing with his top ones (he was originally going to do it the other way around).
“I know, princesa,” one of his hands comes up and squeezes your cheek. “Business calls, I cannot help myself.”
“Which is why I came to visit.” 
The two of you clink glass upon glass before taking a drink. He’s trying not to finish the drink before you, he’s making sure to take his time. He doesn’t want you to leave as much as he doesn’t want to rush the break. His eyes go over your entire form and take you in, there feels like an eternity since he saw you last. Why do you have so much patience for someone like him? It’s astonishing. Surely someone as beautiful as you could find someone sweeter than her. But he’s grateful to have you, he’s mildly addicted to that internal battle of whether he wants to cherish you or own you (perhaps he can do both? Something he’s never done before). 
“What?” You ask.
“Hm?” His fingers pinch together in the casual way of signing.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I can’t resist.”
“What were you thinking about?” You sign and lean forward, giving him bright eyes. Your gaze swallows him, moth to a flame. 
He matches your body language, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amor mío.”
When he tries to grab your hand, you pull away. “You're acting as if you're wine drunk.” You sign. You have a sappy smile as you put your glass to your lips. 
“Never,” he wiggles his fingers as he signs. You eye him carefully, debating asking if he's kept his favorite gun on him. There's nothing worse than a drunk Valentino.
After the wine break, he has to go back to work. He feels himself getting irritated as he walks back, why can't he just continue spending the day with you? Is it worth sending everybody home? No, he has a job to do, and he needs to complete it before relaxation. But maybe he'll consider taking breaks (his least favorite word) to spend time with you.
You follow, both of your hands holding his, clinging onto him like a child.
Everybody was still in the studio, waiting for his return, not daring to leave in fear of him coming back. Actors were talking to each other casually, away from the camera, it built a strange sense of community for you. They're so nice to each other off-camera.
He drags you to his chair still holding your hand as he sits in it.
Drinking with you had been a much-needed respite from these people. He made a mental note to gift you more wine.
You remove your hands from his and smile. “Get back to work, baby.” 
Pearly white, sharp teeth show through his large smile. He presses his lips against each of your knuckles while his eyes skin over all of his actors, counting them. He makes eye contact with one particular one, a woman. They stare at each other for more than a second. She's scowling at him and he squints his eyes at her. The fuck is your problem?
She usually looks at him with sultry looks, but now there's a sharpness to them.
But his eyes peel away from her and go back to you, he leans forward and presses a slow kiss to your forehead. He signs low, almost as if he's whispering a secret. "I'll come see you after."
You smile and start turning away. "Good."
Upon noticing your departure, the actors and crew start returning to their places, keeping an eye on Valentino and any commands he might make. Their eyes are always on him, worried to test his anger. But not all the actors were worried about testing his anger.
"Hey," an actress grabs your hand before you could reach the door and you turn to her. She talks, her voice making your hearing aids buzz, "Are you guys like, dating? Are you dating the Valentino? Like, literally one of the V's."
Her words all bunch into one. You blink, taking time to think about both what she could be asking and the connotation behind it. "Yes?" It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is that the correct response?
She hums and nods, her eyes wide in amazement. Her pupils are large. Her cheeks are hollow and she has strong eyebags. With a distant sound from Val, him talking to the crew, she looks back at him before turning to you. "I mean like, why? Why would he want you?"
Oh no. You try to move away but she just follows you, stepping in front of you closer. It's like being cornered, being trapped in an almost unavoidable situation.
"Why wouldn't he?" You test with a squint of your eyes.
She just smiles at you. "Uhm," and her arm reaches over, grabbing the hearing aid from your ear, pinching it between her claws, "Obviously this."
You reach for it but she pulls it away from you, trying not to laugh.
So you do what you know is the best solution, you call his name, practically screaming it. "Val!"
At the sound of you using your voice he whips his head around. The air goes still, you can tell from the way she pauses. Her pause is only for a second, she reeks of hesitance and sudden worry. She looks at the hearing aid in her hand as if she's finally realizing what she had done and what was about to happen.
Before she can say another word, her entire body stiffs, her eyes widen before her pupils roll back. And then she's on the floor, almost falling onto you.
You wipe blood from your cheek and groan.
Val stares at you, his expression unreadable. In his hand is his jeweled gun. He pauses for a moment to take a long drag of his cigarette, letting out a cloud of red smoke before he looks at his gun with a toothy smile until he tucks it back into his belt.
He starts to approach you and for a second you're scared, it was a primal feeling. He walked like a king.
All you can do is watch him, frozen in place.
The first thing he does when he reaches you is bend in front of her body, plucking the hearing aid from her hand. It's bloody, the liquid drips from it as he lifts it up. He wipes some of it off on his shirt before handing it to you. He drops it into your open hands.
He speaks, knowing you'd have a hard time understanding. "Laying her slutty hands on my angel..."
You lean into his touch when he caresses your face. His eyes gaze at you, softening, his smile widening at how soft your eyes look. You're his greatest treasure. He gets off immensely from protecting you, he would ravish you to death in this moment if he could. Valentinos eyes drift down at the body and his pupils narrows as he glares at the dead woman. He's going to have to clean this up. Her blood is getting every where.
One of his thumbs rub against your cheek, touching the bloody smear. It stains your skin in a delectable way. So perfect.
He melts when he sees your soft eyes slowly start to match the mischievous smile growing on your face. He protected you and he was open about being dithered over her behavior, he didn't laugh at it or tease you about it. You don't doubt for an instant that he's the man of your dreams. He killed someone for you in an instant.
When you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking the blood, his spine straightens. He pulls away immediately and turns around, yelling at the his workers that filming will be cut short today.
He just can't wait any longer to spend some lovely time with you.
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amaranthineghost · 1 month
Text
NOW IM BACK IN OUR EMPTY APARTMENT, LOOKING AT THE PIECES I WISH WERE YOU ( max verstappen. )
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max verstappen x reader
an imperfect relationship between world champion max verstappen and a busy college student now filled with more tension as he fails to hold his tongue after a disappointing race.
authors note: love writing for max, i might have to do it more!!!
HE DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. it snowballed into something he had imagined before but never would've expected it actually happening to him. he could normally control his temper, especially when it came to her. sure, there was a few moments that stood out in his career when he had gone over the limit on certain occasions, going as far as to push another driver, but he would always separate his home life and his career.
at least he would try to. the australian grand prix hadn't played out like he had wanted, or anyone for that matter, because no one wants their car to get fucked and have to retire. especially on the third lap, it was just embarrassing. he was struggling the entire weekend, though his spirits temporarily lifted when he had managed to get pole position. he knew he would, but after the struggles throughout the practice sessions, he hadn't been too sure.
he just wished she would've been there to see it, but she was stuck in their apartment with their cats, jimmy and sassy. she had to do her college work, that was due all too soon, before she could go running around to his races. despite being financially supported by her talented boyfriend, she wanted things to do when he wasn't around, and while school work wasn't exactly many people's cup of tea, it was hers.
she liked the possibilities that came with the experience and maybe one day, she could land a job that would put her in line with her beloved driver. sure, she loved visiting the paddock as a wag, but she would love it more from behind the scenes. of course dating a driver, she already gets to see more than the average person, but she wanted to do something worthwhile with her time in the paddock.
he understood, but he had the only condition of letting him pay for her schooling. debt wasn't fun, and he wouldn't let her fall into that burden. besides, max would love to be able to see his girl working hard in the paddock, but now he wasn‘t so sure if she was his anymore.
he was agitated, she was stressed, and they both knew they didn't mix. they should’ve just waited to see each other in person, but they were both missing each other at the time.
she watched the race on the tv in their bedroom with her laptop on her lap with her latest, big assignment due in the next few days. she was struggling, and she figured it was better to get as much time to work on it as possible so she opted out of flying to australia. still, she watched, hardly stressed, because she knew max was an amazing driver.
but come the race on sunday, his dnf shocked her. she was riddled with worry and part of her wished she had been there. maybe if she had been, this whole thing could’ve been avoided, but the stress she felt now would’ve only worsened had she been with him.
upon the smoke trailing out of his car, hearing the commentators say he had dropped positions, seeing the puff of smoke when his car rolled down the pit lane, the fire on his brake duct, she shut her laptop instantly. now she was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing the screen closely, phone on standby to call him after. she leaned her head on her hands while her elbows dug into her legs.
she watched his tense answers to the media, his uninterested attitude because she knew all he wanted to do was get to his driver's room for peace and sulking. she knew and yet she still made the mistake of calling him right after.
she hadn’t waited long for him to answer, but he didn’t answer right away. hearing no answer from his side of the phone, she spoke first.
“hey,” she spoke as gently and nicely as she could.
“hey.” his voice was short and straightforward, as if he didn’t care about anything she was going to say.
finding the right words to say was like walking on eggshells and there wasn't a lot of room to go. she just hoped she took a step in the right direction when she asked him, “how are you doing?”
“what do you think?” she sighed, biting at the inside of her cheek
“not great,” she muttered, he hummed back in response, which just made her even more unsure of her next words, “ ‘m sorry you has to retire from the race.”
“sorry doesn’t fix the car,” she heard him mumble under his breath, earning a scoff from her.
“excuse me?” her tone was like she had accused him of something, “i get you’re mad right now max, but that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole. i’m just trying to help.”
he scoffed back and she could feel the eye roll he would’ve given her, “yeah, well you're not.”
“what is wrong with you?” she stood up, anger coursing through her.
“i don’t know, maybe the fact that my race was fucked and now you’re bitching to me about my attitude.”
she hadn’t thought before speaking, in moments of high stress she just said whatever she felt, and so did he. what she felt right now was annoyance and anger, “fuck you max,” was all she could spit back, taking a deep breath being speaking again. “news flash, you’re not the only person in the world dealing with shit, it's one race that you got out on, grow up.”
with that she hung up, and he heard the dial tone from his phone, regret beginning to seep past his clothes and into his skin, his nerves, his brain. he just majorly fucked up the most important thing in his life because to him she was more important than his career points, the car, the championship, his entire career, and he just threw her aside in the height of his anger.
he tried calling back immediately after he realized what he had just done, but it had just gone straight to voicemail. when that all failed, he spammed texts, or paragraphs more like, about how sorry he was and how she didn’t deserve the attitude he gave her, but it did nothing.
she sat and watched as the texts and missed calls flooded in. while she understood he was angry, it didn’t give him the right to talk to her like that so she left her phone unanswered while she had gotten up to pack. in less than a few hours, she knew max would be back in this apartment, probably on his knees, begging for forgiveness from her. she knew she would forgive him the moment he did so she wanted to get away before he could.
it didn’t take long, she hadn’t packed her entire life away, but a single suitcase and carry-on bag was enough to last her until she decided to patch things over. taking one last look over her shoulder, one last pet of their cats before she had closed the door behind her. knocking on the apartment door of their neighbors to ask them to care for the felines like they did whenever he left for races and she went alongside him.
but in recent months, moreso in the 2023 season, she found herself attending fewer races than she used to because of the growing tension and stress between the pair. it didn't help that they didn't talk it through, they couldn't because they didn't have the time. she had college, he had formula one, and they both had no time to meet in the middle to amend whatever was broken before. whatever was broken remained as such and only cracked further as time went on and the pressure increased.
they knew they should've come together and met in the middle, but they were both petty and too stubborn. it was another reason they clashed, but they also just worked so well.
he was hoping this was going to be the one time they could've found that time to talk, to sit down and have a deep conversation that lasted hours, that they would've ended up getting side-tracked from and begun to talk about random topics, like they used to. laying on her back with her head in his lap and his fingers through her hair as they laughed at funny memories, or moments they had experienced together.
but when he came home to a quiet, empty apartment, he knew. he knew he shouldn't have hoped for something that was unlikely to happen. his cats rubbed against his legs as he walked about the apartment. dirty dishes that had yet to be washed sitting in the sink, blankets unfolded in the couch and doors left open. the air was stale without her presence and he was left to wallow in it. her absence was a sting against his skin as he kicked off his shoes, seeing a couple pairs less than what there usually was, hanging up his coat alone because hers were now gone.
everything was a reminder if how he had treated her, the words he spat like venom all because he had retired from a single race. he can't stop hearing her venomous last words to him, her tone was like he was the scum on the bottom of her shoe. he might’ve well have been because he sure felt like he was. a piece of trash for the way he spoke, granted he was angry, but he didn't have the right, he never would have the right to talk to her like that.
the floorboards creaked under him, cutting through the silence only interrupted by the sounds of his clothes brushing together as he walked. he peered into the various rooms of the house, seeing half the items she would normally have that had been left behind. pieces of her he was left to further sulk with.
it was cruel, but he understood cruel was what he deserved. he deserved seeing the messy, unmade bed that remained empty for hours after she left. covers pulled back like she had just gotten up to see him, except she hadn't.
she was gone, and he hadn't known where, or if she would even come back. he could only hope that she wished to mend their cracked and shattered relationship as much as he wanted now.
he could only hope.
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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golden1u5t · 23 days
Text
intelligence is attractive | s.r x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: smut
ꨄ summary: spencers always had a crush on you but the way you show your intelligence does him in like nothing else. 
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"you're avoiding me." spencer's sitting on the edge of one of the queen beds in the crappy hotel room. he's watching as you come out of the bathroom, your bag in one hand and the other taking the hair tie out of your hair.
you glanced at him before walking to your side of the room, you set your bag down on the floor beside your bed. spencer calls your name as you climb into bed and turn your lamp off. you wanted to just close your eyes and go to sleep but you knew to think that would be happening, would be reaching.
"what, spencer? you've been giving me the cold shoulder so what else am i supposed to do?" you let out a breath of annoyance and turned to face him. you could've just turned over and ignored him for the rest of the night, not that you would have been able to get a good night's sleep with all the tension in the room.
"¡ have not been giving you the cold shoulder!" spencer's voice went up in pitch, a tell that he was lying, and he turned his head. you scoffed and got out of bed, walking to his side of the room and standing directly in front of him so he would look at you.
"you have. ever since i figured out that code at the station you've been giving me the cold shoulder. you're upset because, for once, you don't get to show everyone how smart you are?"
spencer's face was turning redder by the second, his eyes seemingly glued to the wall with no intention of looking at you. you stood there for a moment to see if he would say anything but when he didn't, you let out a scoff and turned away. his hand twitched on his leg, he couldn't figure out if he should grab your arm to stop you from walking away or just leave you alone.
before he had a chance to properly think his actions through, he was standing up and catching your arm in his hand. he gently pulled you back closer to him and, again, before he could properly think his actions through, he pressed his lips to yours. when he hadn't felt you start to kiss back, he quickly pulled back and let his arm drop back down to his side.
"i'm not- i wasn't upset at you, i was just-" he quickly stopped himself before he said too much. as he stared down at you, your eyes wide and lips parted, he wished he could just turn back time to before he kissed you and just have dropped the entire situation. of course, he couldn't. spencer took a step back and turned his back to you, his face flushed a shade of red with embarrassment. you weren't going to just drop the situation like he'd hoped.
"spencer?" taking a step forward, you placed your hand on his arm. your voice was gentle as you spoke to him, trying to show him that you weren't upset with him. its true that you weren't upset with him, you were just shocked and still trying to wrap your head around things. "spencer, look at me. please?"
you gave him a moment but when he still didn't look at you, you stepped around him and guided his face back towards you. spencer let out a shaky breath, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he kissed you.
there was a moment of silence before you leaned up and pressed your lips to his, to show him that you weren't upset with him and just because you wanted to feel his lips on yours again. you ran your hands down his arms until you got to his wrist, you moved his hands to rest on your waist. the small movement brought a sudden wave of confidence over him.
spencer walked forward until your legs hit the edge or bed, he gently pushed you back onto the bed. he hovered over your body, his fingers skimming over your bare skin from where your shirt had risen up.
"y/n," your name fell from his lips in a soft manner, almost coming out as an inaudible whisper. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. "do you want to do this?"
you wasted no time in telling him that you wanted him, even arching up into him to accentuate your words. spencer untangled your bodies and moved off of you, you sat up as he stood in front of the bed.
you tugged your shirt over your head just as he did. his hands fell down to tug at the strings that kept his pants secured to his waist but you quickly stopped him, looking up at him for permission to remove them yourself.
spencer shivered under your touch as you trailed your fingertips over the thin line of hair that disappeared into his pants. you wanted to memorize every part of his body, every mount and valley.
finally, you tugged at the strings of his pants until they loosened and fell down his legs. you bit back a whimper as you got a good look at his cock straining against his boxers, your fingertips brushed lower, feeling him think and hot through the cotton that hid him from your sight. a gasp fell from his parted lips as you flattened your palm over him, his hips pushing up into your hands.
"¡ want to take this slow," he breathed out, his voice wavering as you continued to palm him. your gaze was fixated on his bulge, fixated on how hard he was, how you could feel it twitching under your palm. "but i don't think i can."
"then we won't," you mumbled, finally tearing your eyes away from his cock and looking into his eyes. "we don't have to go slow this time, spence."
spencer reached down and hurriedly pushed his boxers down, sighing in relief at the feeling of no longer being restrained. you moved further up the bed until your head was rested against the pillows, spencer stepped out of his pants and boxers and crawled up onto the bed.
he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and looked up at you for permission to take them off, which you granted almost immediately. he tossed them behind his head and pulled your legs up until they rested on his waist. leaning over your body, he captured your lips in a searing kiss.
spencer reached between your bodies and wrapped his hand around his cock, his hips rocked against your core, the tip sliding though your slit until he reached your entrance. he pulled back just for a moment to ask for permission again, which you granted, before placing a kiss on your collarbone and pressing into you.
in one slow, deep thrust, he filled you completely, knocking the air from your lungs. he paused for a moment to give you both some time to adjust to the new feeling of each other.
"oh god." you whimpered, your hands finding their way back into his hair and tugging on it as you got used to the feeling of being so full. spencer grunted as he gave an experimental thrust, his hips retreating and sliding back in with more force once he knew you were good.
eventually, he had gotten comfortable with being inside you, he'd gotten a pace set that both you and him enjoyed. spencer nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck as he rocked into you harder, the bed was starting to rock against the wall with the force of his thrust. luckily, the next pair from the team was a few more rooms down.
"need you." you whimpered, body arching up into him.
those two words washed away all remnants of control he had left. he panted against your burning skin, his hips snapping into yours harder than before as his cock started to pulsate. "say it again." he whined and reached between you to rub at your throbbing clit.
"¡ need you, spencer. please!" your cried in pleasure, your fingers had a death grip on his hair at this point. spencer's hips stuttered and his pace began to falter, he gasped against your skin as he started to cum. shockwaves shot through his body as he continued to thrust into your the best that he could, he pushed through the sensitivity of his cock to bring you to your release.
with his fingers toying with your clit and his cock pushing into you hitting all the right spots, you found your release not long after him. spencers hips slowed to a stop as did your orgasms, he pulled out with a whine and rolled over onto the bed beside you. you rolled over with him, placing yourself back in his arms.
no words were exchanged as you both laid there, suspended in time. pretty soon the beating of each other's hearts against your skin lulled you right to sleep.
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