#i wasted my time doing absolutely nothing and that's on me. i wish i did literally anything better than what i did back then | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rosedom · 2 months

Note

AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!

"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .

A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast.

The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.

“Madame, you have a serious—”

“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.

Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)

But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.

Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted.

“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days.

“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now.

You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.”

The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”

You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore.

Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway.

“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”

“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.”

As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.

“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—

“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare.

Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull.

“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap.

He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines.

Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking.

“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”

“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis.

“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”

You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”

Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.

Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.

“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch.

“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”

Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you.

And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne.

You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins.

He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.

It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts.

(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)

Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip.

You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”

“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.

He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing.

He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.”

“Lyn—”

He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”

Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.”

He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”

You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.

“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you.

He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.

“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”

“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.”

“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.

You hum at him to go on.

“‘m already prepped.” Oh.

“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”

And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off.

He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs.

“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”

He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.

“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”

With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled.

He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”

Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”

“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you.

“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.

From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down.

You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”

“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.”

He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)

“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.

You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”

The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence.

You’re so, so glad to love him.

“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?”

He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward.

Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”

You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”

With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt.

“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”

Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”

He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?”

“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.”

You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.

“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear.

“Patience, pup.”

And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”

“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”

The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture.

However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”

“Charging,” he mutters.

You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?”

With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed.

He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”

Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you.

You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.

“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”

“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”

“Okay, okay—”

You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”

He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat.

And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you.

Really, clean-up can wait.

i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^＠^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL

13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#i used to have very frequent headaches and the only way i could abate them was:#1) midol (god's gift to earth i stg)#and 2) jrking off.#so !!#sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub gaming #gaming x reader #sub lyney #lyney x reader #sub gorou #gorou x reader #lord .#top reader #dom reader #amab reader #male reader

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euaphoric · 7 months

Text

🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 1. 🕸️

Show You What Devotion Is . . .

[PAIRING] jungkook x f!reader

[GENRE] bf/gf, established relationship, pwp [WARNINGS] fluff, smut, small mentions of insecurities, body worship, devotion kink, face-sitting, biting, spit kink (sorta, kinda?)

summary: you don’t think you’re good enough for your boyfriend but he proves those thoughts wrong by showing just how much undying love he truly has for you.

wc -> 2.0k

A/N: first post of the month, 30 more to go woohoo~ so excited to do this and hopefully this’ll help me get a better idea of what i like/don’t like writing in the future. **fyi oc is told that she tastes like candy but obvi in the real world if ur hoo-ha tastes like candy that’s not normal .. o_O buttt this is fiction so just pretend they can sjdjfjsjjs.

kinktober m.list

this day simply couldn’t get any worse. you missed the bus back home just by a fraction of a minute, all because you wanted to speak with your professor at his office hours but now in hindsight, you wished you never did. it was practically a waste of time anyway, he wasn’t giving much worthy feedback on your presentation and the anxiety about your final grade grew rampant as the semester progressed. ‘fuck, guess’ll wait for the next one in 15’ you mumble to yourself, annoyed and exhausted from earlier’s events. one side of you just wants to call jungkook to come pick you up but your other subconscious is telling you that’s selfish— don’t make him drive all the way here when you can just wait a measly 15 more minutes.

sigh~

it won’t kill you to wait, it’s not like you were in a rush to see him right now. it was actually quite the opposite, you weren’t prepared to tell him how you completely bombed your presentation. well, you wouldn’t say completely but it definitely wasn’t up to your impossibly high standards. public speaking was the only class you struggled with the most, you could articulate your words precisely in writing but saying it out loud? that was a totally different story. you have to outgrow this “fear” over speaking in front of an audience if you want to practice law one day. no one’s going to take you seriously if you can’t even read a single paragraph without tripping over syllables. all you could do was replay those embarrassing moments and internally cringe, almost missing the bus again from being so deep in thought— what a nightmare.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

“baaabyyyy!” the sweet sound of jungkook’s voice instantly made everything better, at least for now. his peachy soft lips went straight to your face almost immediately, smothering you with dozens of kisses while caging his beautiful, toned arms around your willowed frame. “you came home so late, was expectin’ you half an hour agooo.” he whines immaturely, holding you so tight he’s nearly squeezing you at this point. he must’ve really missed you. “i missed the bus… i wanted to talk with my professor about my presentation and thought i could make it but i guess not..” you pause, thinking if you should share what’s really crossing your mind, “…i was gonna call you to pick me up but didn’t think it was worth all that hassle.” now hearing yourself say that out loud makes it seem like he isn’t a reliable boyfriend, he very much is, it’s just the over-thinker in you. it’ll mark your 2 years of dating next week yet somehow you still felt like you were burdening him at times.

if the embodiment of ‘???’ was a person, that would be jungkook right about now; he couldn’t fathom you thinking such unlawful things. “hassle? what’re you talking about love, nothing is a hassle for me when it comes to you, absolutely nothing. next time you need me don’t hesitate to call babe,” he reassures sincerely. loosening his embrace momentarily to turn you around, he brings your chests together while his hands wrap your pretty waist, feeling his rapid heartbeat against yours. “i’m serious, you better call me next time.” the sternness of his voice alarming you that he’ll probably lecture you for this. he texts you hourly just to check in and make sure you’re okay, a simple drive to pick you up is the bare minimum to him. “well besides that.. how’d your presentation go?” jungkook’s doe-like eyes widen as he interrogates with questions. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” you silently mutter, already dreading what the final grades were going to be. “that bad, huh?” he proceeds with even more questions, “did you remember like we practiced last night?” you nod, lowering your head to stare at the floor, confidence dwindling by the second.

it truly hurts him to see you upset over something you’ve worked so passionately on, all just for it to feel ruined in the end. he hates that you’re not your usual bubbly and cute self, it makes him do everything he can to cheer you up. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it now, i get it. you probably did well though, i bet you messed up like one time and no one even noticed ‘cause you’re so pretty!” he teases, inked, slender digits trail up to find solace on your chin, lifting your head up to face each other again. “stop stressing over dumb little imperfections, it never ends well.” “oh, you’re one to talk!” you whine into his chest, unable to deal with his hypocrisy. not jungkook of all people giving you this speech when he is literally the #1 perfectionist king. “and i’m not even that pretty..” you quietly mumble, hoping he wouldn’t catch that. “wait, what did you just say?!” his voice raised an octave of confusion, you would think someone had just told him the most horrific story, but no, here he is on the verge of a mental breakdown over his girlfriend feeling insecure. “i said i’m not that—” “no no, i heard you the first time. my brain just isn’t registering the fact that you don’t think you’re anything less than a walking goddess of this earth.” he was flabbergasted to hear you talk with such low confidence, “sometimes, i feel like you can do so much better..” that’s what fully broke his heart as you spoke, it pained him to know you harbored all these feelings deep down inside.

the only answer in solving this dilemma is by being a better boyfriend to you, showering you with even more compliments than he already does daily, and most importantly, proving that he is 100% devoted to you and you only.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

eyes half-lidded in lust, limbs spasming and going numb from the continuous stimulation, you can’t do much but moan out jungkook’s name on an endless loop. the first hour, jungkook took his heavenly time with your delicate, angelic body. everything about you is divine to him, he wants to appreciate every single inch of you, even the parts you despise. he dedicated his lips to kissing and pleasuring your whole body, leaving no surface of you untouched. he’d rave in between kisses about how beautiful you are, how lucky he is and how he’s willing to do anything to make you happy. if being love-drunk was a disease, he’d rather fall into a coma and never wake up than find the cure. he’s living his best life as he cherishes your innate beauty, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as he reaches them, taking ample time to caress and praise your dreamy body. he’s always had a thing for your cute plush thighs, the way they’d bounce and jiggle when he plays with them makes him all giddy inside. he can never get enough of them or you, leaving numerous bite marks and coating them with his spit, “you’re a work of art princess, a masterpiece. don’t think any different.” jungkook murmured against you, voice laced with pure seduction and infatuation.

body buzzing in anticipation as he kept working his way up, leaving a chaste peck to your left and right hip bone, firmly gripping your thighs as he drags his lips to your center. the urge to make out with your cunt was insatiable for him, he needed his face buried between your legs, there was no place he’d rather be. “after this you’re gonna use my face as your throne and m’gonna give you the most mind blowing orgasm, capeesh?” jungkook props his head up for a second before kissing below your belly button. “c-capeeshh.” you hazily reply, mind still fuzzy from just his kisses and touch alone. you know you’re in for a wild ride whenever you sit on your boyfriend’s face, he always eats you like a starved man and makes sure you cum multiple times, he takes such pride in himself for having you be a twitching and moaning mess by the end of it all. his only goal and mission for the night was to make you feel so good that you reach your climax hard enough to see memories of your life flash before your eyes. as he made his way up to your waist, you melt into his warmth, craving him more and more as time goes on. you thought you felt your soul leave your body when he unsuspectingly attaches his mouth to your nipple, babbling nothing coherent as you rut your hips into nothing.

as much as jungkook wanted to keep the teasing going, he was so down bad to have you sit on his face in this moment, ready to show exactly how much love and obsession he has for you. “need you so bad babe.. need to taste you,” he sighs, shamelessly gawking over you as he maneuvers you on top. “you’re so fuckin’ sexy mama... would love to be in between these pretty thighs for the rest of my life.” you couldn’t help but blush at his dirty talk, feeling flustered as you slide off your damp polka dot panties, watching as he licks his lips, planning to devour you whole. jungkook was so excited, you’re always scared of hurting him whenever you sit on his face but he reassures you often that he’ll be fine, “you’re not gonna kill me babe, trust me. even if you did i think it’d be sick to put ‘died from too much pussy juice’ on my gravestone anyway.” he lightly jokes, never taking anything in the slightest bit serious. you position your lower half, hovering over his face as he stares directly at your wetness. the tent in his boxers only surged, he was so hopelessly attracted to you, he could cum just from giving you head.

“fuuuu- oh my god so good, so good! yess, keep going babyy..” your legs shake violently as you rock your hips back and forth, rendering a steady motion against your boyfriend’s soothing tongue. as you throw your head back in pleasure and delight, jungkook grips onto your thighs for dear life, using every bit of manpower he possessed in making sure you don’t move away. “mmmhh~” he’d hum into your sensitive, eliciting the harmonious moans he loves to hear every night. you clutch onto the floral sheets of the bed, hand full of jet-black hair in the other. “mmm.. taste so sweet for me..” he grunts against your dripping core, “like candy..” a few more sloppy licks then he’s back to aggressively sucking your clit. you were grinding his face with more speed and didn’t care as much about hurting him anymore, if he really was uncomfortable he’d speak up. jungkook would never do that though, you are his goddess and he wants this night to be all about pleasing you. “uhhh, t-think m’gonna cum..” you felt that familiar knot in your tummy, hips subconsciously rutting faster into his mouth as eyes roll to the back of your head. you couldn’t tell much of his condition below you but his stamina never slowed, eating you out with everlasting hunger as his grip refuses to unravel. “cum for me princess, please.” his encouraging words help reach your high, feeling a whole new state of nirvana as your chest heaves, “fuck, jungkook, i love you!” you cry out, clenching around his tongue as he licks every crevice of you clean. the room spun around as you catch your breath, having trouble regaining your balance for a split second.

you droop down onto your heavy panting boyfriend’s chest, lightly sticking to his dewy skin from all the built up sweat. “sooo, how’re you feeling now compared to earlier? did it work? are all your insecurities vanished and gone now?” he’s back to his normal self again, asking his little series of questions. you giggle, “i feel great koo, definitely helped me relax..” flashing a warm smile as he reaches out for you to cuddle, “i must’ve done some life-changing shit in my past lives to deserve someone as good as you.”

#kinktober 2023 #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x f reader #jungkook fic #bts fics #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabbles

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months

Text

Delicate

Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: "Is it chill that you're in my head? / Cause I know that it’s delicate"

Warnings: Angst, death, major series spoilers for people who haven't finished the books

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep / Are you ever dreaming of me?

Luke could admit to himself he wanted his best friend. He had for a long time. In fact everyone could see it, except for her. She seemed blissfully unaware of any feelings Luke had to the point that it made him nervous she was doing it on purpose. But if he couldn’t have her, he’d take the next best thing of being her friend. As long as she was in his life.

It was supposed to be bonfire night but Luke and Y/M had snuck off to the beach. They lay next to each other, staring up at the stars. Well, she was looking up at the stars, Luke was looking at her. They talked for hours about nothing until she finally dozed off.

Given the strict rules about curfew, Luke hardly ever got to see his best friend’s peaceful expression as she slept. Her face relaxed, unburdened by the perils of being a demigod. And as the two oldest at camp, they had a lot of perils.

Luke reached out, stroking her hair. That elicited a content sigh from her and he wondered if she was aware it was him. He wondered if she thought about or dreamed about him nearly as much as he did her. He had an ever present fantasy of absolutely sweeping her off her feet in a moment of glory. One of his favorites was after he won capture the flag, he’d march right up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and just kiss her.

But of course that would never happen so he kept it stashed in the back of his mind.

He let her sleep for a few more minutes before he finally woke her up. “Hey, you gotta get up or the harpies will get us,” he laughed softly, shaking her awake.

She groaned but opened her eyes nonetheless.

Sometimes when I look into your eyes / I pretend you're mine all the damn time

Her eyes. Luke could probably get lost in them forever. He didn’t even need to watch the stars. He’d much rather watch the reflection of them in her eyes.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by one of the Athena boys. “Oh, hey Luke. Um, I just came to find Y/N. Chiron said late curfew starts in five minutes.”

“Really?” she asked, sitting up. “How long was I asleep?”

Luke felt his face get hot. He actually had no idea, he had completely lost track of time while watching her. “Uh not long. I just didn’t want to wake you,” he tried to play it off smoothly.

She gave him a soft smile, her hand finding his knee. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to waste your night.”

“No, no, no,” he quickly corrected. “You’re never a waste of time.”

“So um,” the Athena boy cut in awkwardly. “You want me to walk you to your cabin, Y/N? It’s right across from mine.”

Luke felt a surge of possessiveness. This guy clearly liked her. But before she could answer, Luke did it for her. “We’ll head over in a few minutes but thanks,” he tried to dismiss him.

The boy looked discouraged but tried to play it off. “Oh- uh ok.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N offered, feeling bad for him. He immediately brightened with a smile before retreating back to his cabin.

Luke hated that she always seemed to leave the door open for other guys. They had had numerous conversations about the boys that liked her so he knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose. She just felt bad outright rejecting them so her sugar coating often came across as a signal to try harder. He just wished he could make it clear to them she was taken. Of course, she wasn’t his (yet).

Once Luke was sure he was out of earshot, he brought the topic up again. “He likes you.”

“No he doesn’t,” she immediately dismissed.

“Yes he does, and you trying to make him feel better about rejecting him doesn’t make it any better.”

“I didn’t reject him, you did.”

“Because I know you don’t like him.”

“Who says I don’t like him?” she shrugged.

Luke’s heart stopped. He had been playing defense so well for so long now that it hadn’t even occurred to him that she could like someone else. “What?”

She just shrugged again. “Who’s to say I don’t like him? You chased him away before I could get a word in.”

“D-do you like him?” Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest.

“No, but I’m just saying-”

“Gods, Y/N!” Luke interrupted in relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”

A satisfied look crossed over her face. “Why is that scary?”

He sent her a playful glare. “You know.”

“Tell me,” she pressed.

Is it cool that I said all that? / Is it chill that you're in my head?

Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest. She had basically already confirmed she was into him but the fear still lingered in his chest. He just had to say the words and he’d have his fantasy. She’d be his.

“I like you, Y/N. I have for a long time. I was just always scared you’d… I don’t know, reject me. Or think I was being stupid. But I like you.” Luke looked at her nervously, unsure of what she’d say. His heart was still pounding even when she leaned over and kissed him. As she tried to pull away for air, Luke’s hands found their way to her face, keeping her close. “I’m not done yet,” he mumbled against her lips, eliciting a giggle.

Long night with your hands up in my hair / Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs

That night Luke really didn’t want to leave her but Y/N wasn’t willing to break the rules just yet. He had spent the entire walk back to the cabins trying to convince her to sneak into the Hermes cabin. “Please, I swear no one will snitch on you.”

She laughed, intertwining her fingers into his. “Well what about my siblings when they see I’m not in bed? What will the children think?” By now they reached Cabin 7.

“The children can think whatever they want,” Luke smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. It was late but several campers were still awake. Word of the couple would spread like wildfire and by the morning, even Chiron would know about the new couple.

But spending every night separately wouldn’t last for long. Y/N normally spent the evenings in the Hermes cabin where they had somehow managed to smuggle many forbidden things in. Like video games and junk food. And every night when the conch blew, signaling that curfew was soon, Luke begged her to stay. “Come on, no one will tell. Will you?” he asked his siblings.

That received a resounding “No!” swearing they’d keep our secret. She looked around the room, her resolve crumbling after weeks of this. “Fine,” she agreed. So many cheers erupted you’d think she just agreed to marry him. “But!” she waited for them to quiet down, “I’m still a counselor and I have to make sure everyone else is in bed.” Luke pouted but let her go nonetheless, promising to drag her back to Cabin 11 if she didn’t come back.

So after putting all the younger kids to bed, Y/N snuck back to Cabin 11. She found it dark but made her way to Luke’s bed. As she reached it, Luke could recognize the outline of her created by the moonlight. “Finally, I was just about to come break down your door.”

“Ha ha,” she laughed sarcastically. “Scoot over,” Luke obliged, sliding against the wall to create room. She slipped under the covers, settling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly, his face buried in her hair.

“‘M glad you’re staying,” he mumbled. “Feel like it’s easier to fall asleep when you’re with me.” He didn’t say it out loud but he liked having the assurance that she was safe in his arms as they slept.

“Me too,” she mused, her eyes already closed. “But I’ll say you kidnapped me if we get caught.”

“Okay,” Luke chucked. “You can blame me.”

My reputation's never been worse, so / You must like me for me

But those nights were gone now. Luke made his choice but so did she.

“Isn’t it messed up how the gods neglect their kids?” Luke asked as casually as possible, staring out at sea, his fingers tracing the dock.

“Yeah,” she mused. “Can you imagine being an omnipotent, immortal being but you can’t even take the time to tell your kid they belong to you? I mean, Apollo’s been pretty good about it but the others…?”

The pressure in Luke’s chest lessened as she more or less agreed with him. “Or how they treat us as disposable puppets? Like pawns?” He watched her face carefully as she considered it.

“What do you mean?”

Here we go. Luke began chipping at any remaining loyalty she had to the gods. “Well think about it. Thalia? Her godly parents could have saved her. Every demigod who died? Their parent could have saved them. My quest was a joke. All Hermes wanted me to do was repeat one of Heracles’ labors.”

She looked deep in thought. “I guess but why are you asking me about this?”

He took a deep breath before lacing his fingers in hers. “I’ve been uh… talking to someone.” She didn’t say anything but her furrowed brow urged him to continue. “I’ve been told that things don’t have to be the way they are. We don’t have to wait around until we’re killed. The Titan Lord could restore-”

“Shut up right now!” her frightened voice cut him off. She pulled her legs out of the water, shifting her sitting position to face him directly. “Luke! What- how- why are you doing this? So what if you can’t rely on the gods? You certainly can’t trust Kronos anymore.”

He gently grasped her hands. “Y/N, he promised every demigod that joins him immortality and safety. We wouldn’t have to cower in a summer camp with children who most likely won’t make it to their 18th birthdays. Please, come with me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.” That broke his heart. “Luke, I love you. I really do. But I can’t let you go down this path.”

Through his internal struggle with Kronos, Luke could see Y/N staring at him, pain in her eyes. He gripped Annabeth’s knife tightly, saying a silent goodbye to everyone he loved and a curse to Kronos. “I love you,” he tried to say to her but it came out strained. The blade sunk into his only vulnerable spot under his arm—his Achilles heel.

“No!” he heard her yell. But he was already on the ground, beginning to lose consciousness at the fatal blow. But Y/N was kneeling over him, tears leaving tracks on her dirty face. “No, no, no,” she mumbled. “Why, Luke?” she practically screamed in frustration.

He reached up, wiping her tears and some dirt from her face. “Do you still love me? After everything I did?”

“Of course I love you!” she cried. “I never stopped.”

Despite the pain, he was smiling. “I love you too. I’ll see you in Elysium.”

She nodded, trying to smile too but the sobs were clawing their way of her throat. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not too soon,” he insisted. “I love you, Y/N.”

Masterlist

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo x reader #the lighting thief #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #x reader #Spotify

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r1nstaaa · 7 days

Text

bangchan x fem!reader

blond chan is my roman empire.

MDNI!!!!

warnings: smut, chan has a breeding kink lol (he def does), tysm maya for the prompt ily and uh yes. enjoy.

you were sitting on the bed, peacefully scrolling on your phone. recently, your fyp has been filled with videos of the cutest babies ever and its literally torture. they’re so cute, so tiny that it makes you want one of your own. god, the baby fever has been hitting hard.

you looked to the side at your husband, who was also sitting on the bed, right beside you. his right hand was resting on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the plush skin. “channie” you called out. “mm, what is it love?” he questioned, not looking up from his phone. ugh, the nickname. it still made you weak in the knees, even after 3 years of marriage. “channieeee” you called out again, demanding his full attention. “yes baby, i’m listening.” he looked up, not breaking eye contact this time.

you stared at his lips. he knew what you were getting at. “you were gonna say something, baby?” the reminder made you snap your eyes back to his.

“i want a baby.” you deadpanned.

you hadn’t planned on blurting it out this way, it just happened. it had been in the back of your mind since the past few days, but you hadn’t really given it much thought. but chan? its safe to say he’s been dying to fill you with his seed ever since he saw you playing with your nephew during christmas last year. seeing the way you handle kids had him fully convinced you were gonna be an amazing mom and nothing could make him think otherwise.

with chan, all you had to do was ask. your wish was his command. and so, here you were, getting every last one of your wishes fulfilled.

his face was buried in your cunt, licking up every single drop you had to offer. he did not plan on letting anything go to waste. you had lost count of how many times he’d made you cum in the past hour, and if he had any intentions of stopping sometime soon, he was really good at hiding it. your fingers gripped at his hair, the curly strands wrapped around your fingers as you tugged at them lightly, making him groan against your sensitive cunt. the vibrations made you arch your back, the friction from his nose feeling sinfully delicious. “‘m gonna cum channie… fuck” you moaned out as he slipped his middle finger into your aching hole, pushing you closer to the edge. “c’mon baby, i know you can give me one more. that’s my girl.” he said, as he placed kisses on your tummy when you came down from your high.

he placed kisses all the way up to your collarbones, taking his time to fondle with your tits midway. he sucked and bit at your neck, leaving hickies all over the visible parts of your skin. he loved making it difficult for you to hide the remnants of your shared desire for each other.

“what’d you say darlin’? said you wanted a baby?” he questioned, his hands working skilfully to rub and pinch your nipples. “y-yes.. fuck chan. need you to give me a baby.. please.” you mewled, back arching due to the pleasure.

“since you asked so nicely…” he grunted as he slapped your clit with his cock, gathering your wetness near your entrance. “who am i to deny, baby?” he said as he pushed his cock inside with one full thrust, making you choke out a broken sob at the sudden stretch. the pain mixed with the pleasure made your brain go all mushy. all you could think about was the way his cock filled you up and the way his hands gripped your waist as he tried his best to not start thrusting into you already. “chan.. fuck me, please.” was all he needed to hear before he started rutting into you, building a rhythm and trying his best to not break it and absolutely ruin you right there. “fuck, you’re taking me so well, pretty girl. gonna fuck a baby into you.” his hands reached out for yours, holding onto them and interlocking his fingers with yours.

his pace was starting to get a bit rougher, hitting that spot inside you with each thrust. “so fuckin gorgeous. all mine, aren’t you?” he whispered against your neck, placing hot, wet kisses on your sensitive skin.

“shit, stop clenching ‘round my cock like that baby, gonna make me cum.” his thrusts started getting sloppier as you were both about to reach your highs, him reaching down to press on your clit and rub on it using his thumb. he spat on it and pinched it, finally making you come undone around his cock. your pussy squeezed him in even more, getting impossibly tighter. shit, you were driving him insane.

“fuck baby, m’close. so close.” he grunted. “you wan’ it inside? wan’ me to fill up that pretty little cunt of yours?” you nod mindlessly, completely fucked out. “words, pretty girl.”

“y-yes channie. fill me up, please.” you said, as your cunt squeezed around him one last before he released his load deep inside you, your walls fluttering around his cock.

he collapsed onto you, rightfully breathless. he reached down to push his dripping cum into your cunt with two of his fingers, giving you a sweet kiss and pecking your cheek after.

“might wanna do this again just to be safe, you know?”

#bangchan #bangchan skz #bangchan x reader #bangchan x reader smut #bangchan smut #bangchan skz smut #skz x reader #straykids #skz scenarios #skz imagines

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allfearstofallto · 17 days

Text

A Boon from the Tsaritsa

Arlecchino x Fem! Reader

A/N: Reader is a simp

She's beautiful from all angles. That's the only thought that's running through your mind as you kneel before her. Her haunting beauty is a sight to behold, her face like that of an angel. Or maybe, a demon, with the way she tempts you. Even the look of disinterest, of lack of care for you, sends a chill of adoration up your spine. All it took was one glance at her in passing and you were absolutely smitten.

“I was told you requested me personally?” She spoke, her voice echoing off the wall and sending a familiar tingle to your groin. Her words, spoken coldly like ice, made your heart beat even faster in your chest.

“Yes, Sir! I did,” you stuttered back enthusiastically. Her dark eyes were on you and you could feel them practically melting through your skin. And the feeling was euphoric. Her painful gaze was like heaven to you and you wished to bask in it, if only her impatience with you wasn't so palpable, “I did well on the previous mission, sir, as I'm sure you've heard. I'm actually the sole survivor of it. I was told by the Tsaritsa herself that I could have any gift I desire for my job well done.”

Arlecchino cocked an eyebrow, crossing one of her gorgeous legs over the other. The way her thighs squished against the heavy fabric of her pants had you nearly drooling, your eyes tracing up and down her long legs to where the heel of her shoe where she tapped her foot against the marble floor, “I'm assuming you have something you want from my orphanage then, seeing as you asked for me. I do not give my children up, if that's what you're asking for, so I suggest calling on someone else for your ‘reward,”

“I want nothing of the sort,”

“Is that so?” She hummed.

“What I want is something only you can give me,”

“And that is?”

Your eyes fell upon her lips. Plump and wet with gloss. The natural pink shade making them stand out against her pale skin. They were pressed together in a frown, but even that displeasing expression excited you, “I want a kiss. From you.”

She was dumbfounded for a moment, you could see the slightest change in her expression, then she went back to her neutral expression, trying to pretend that what you’d asked for wasn't phasing her. She waved her hands, shooing the other Fatui guards out of the room and they left with little sound, their feet sounding like little patters of rain against the floor.

“A boon from the Tsaritsa is not an easy thing to acquire. People typically ask for things like land or status,”

“I'm aware,”

“Yet, you're giving it all up for a peck on the lips?”

When she said it like that, you did feel a little stupid. But you were steadfast in your ways and insistent on what you wanted. Her lips plagued your dreams day and night. And passing her on your way to assignments made you mentally curse whatever fate kept her from being your superior. Although, you doubted you'd get any work done if you had the opportunity to ogle at her as much as you pleased.

“I do not feel as if I'm wasting my boon, I've wanted this for a very long time,” affirmation coated your words, showing that you meant every bit of them.

Maybe she could feel that. Feel your honesty in the way you spoke. In the way you look up at her with admiration. Most would be upset that they were made to kneel, yet, you dropped to the floor before her without any hesitation the second the order left her mouth.

You watched her feet as she stepped towards you, her heels clicking against the floor. She cupped your face, just beneath the chin. You'd never touched her before, how could you? But the feeling of her gloved hands against your skin, of her sharp nails practically testing your flesh, it was euphoric.

Bending over at the waist, she pressed her lips against yours. You would've melted into a puddle right there, had it not been for her firm grip on your cheeks. She tasted sweeter than you expected, but her lips were as soft as you'd dreamt of. Her smell up close was intoxicating, and even though you would've been more than satisfied with just her lips, you felt her tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

The way she kissed was dominating. It was suffocating. It was heavenly. You let her do whatever she desired, practically sitting there like a ragdoll for her to toy with. You wanted to remember every bit of her taste, the feeling of her lips. Her touch. You savored it, whining in sorrow when she pulled away, her lips wet with your saliva.

“Do well again,” Arlecchino spoke in a hushed whisper right against the shell of your ear, “So you can get another.”

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #genshin arlecchino x reader

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xo-cod · 8 months

Note

I love the way you write simon, he's so nice and soft and I'm a sucker for it. How about this : first time oral (giving or receiving, you choose), reader has always been intimidated by it but accepts to try it with Simon. And like of course simon is just praising them non stop

i did receiving and he'd be so so incredibly gentle with you! :( he knows your nerves but the reassurance doesn't stop spilling from him <33

"how's that feelin', sweetheart?" his voice is a tender whisper as he stops the licking and sucking for a minute, his hands finding their way between your legs to help rub your clit as he speaks to you. he absolutely loves how you're displayed right now, a fine coat of perspiration covering your skin while your fingers loosen their grip on his hair to fall at the bed sheets. the way your body is writhing and arching underneath. he's so glad you're beginning to enjoy this, the nervousness you once held is melting away. and he coos at your desperate state, chuckling as you try to get more.

he obliges of course, who is he to deny his lady's wishes?

he inserts his middle finger all the way to the knuckle as he licks your clit again, enjoying how you gasp and moan beneath him. he can feel his control slipping a little as he softly groans, feeling the vibrations directly upon the bundle of nerves between your legs. he's humping the mattress at this point, the way you clench around his fingers he's trying his hardest not to moan along with you. trying so hard not to ruin your pretty body <3

"fuck- doing so well f'me, lovie. so good for me" his voice is like silk, adding another finger while he continues the delicious assault on your cunt. they're going at a fast pace, the sloppy sounds of his fingers mixed with his sucking is enough to drive you over the edge. you can feel him hitting the sweet spot inside, your legs curling tightly around his waist. any and all comprehensible thought has left your head, all you can think about is the climax that was fast approaching

"does my pretty girl want to cum?" he coos, his fingers slowing down while his tongue peppers soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. he can feel your body tensing, muscle clamped around his fingers and he gently chuckles, watching you come undone has to be one of the most precious sights he's ever set his eyes upon

"that's it, cum for me sweetheart" he rumbles, striking that spot again and again with each unrelenting stroke of his fingers, his mouth attached back to your cunt. it feels like your body is on fire, as if every fiber of your sanity was being ripped apart and stitched back together again as he kept the brutal rhythm. nothing but whimpers leave your mouth, never feeling so alive and yet at the edge of death at the same time.

your body feels like it's about to combust into flames, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten as he brings you higher and higher. you thrash underneath him as you climax, not a drop wasted as he takes it all in his mouth. through the haze of your orgasm you can faintly feel him collapsing on top of you, brushing your hair back as he pulls your hips in again. his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss, nuzzling your face as a gorgeous smile graces his lips

"oh my little love, you did so good f'me. precious girl"

#asks #simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader smut

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bird-inacage · 7 months

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Only Friends: EP8 Sand & Ray's 'Never Friends' Scene

I wanted to do a deep dive into this scene, because it really exceeded my expectations. It sets the tone beautifully for Sand's current state of mind, and First delivers such a wonderful, nuanced performance here. Easily one of my favourite Ray/Sand interactions yet.

Sand is looking noticeably weary after witnessing Ray and Mew dancing in the bar. The poor boy just looks so tired and dejected, as if he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Unfortunately for him, the bar is where he works so he's not able to avoid being in a place Ray and Mew frequent together.

Ray approaches and tries to behave as he normally would. He asks to borrow Sand's lighter, a little call back to Episode 1. The camera lingers on Ray's reaction when Sand simply hands it over. Another nod to where Sand had lit his cigarette for him previously. A split second detail, a very clear message: 'It's not my role to take care of you anymore. You have someone else for that now'.

Sand being Sand, is still concerned about how Ray is doing and asks about his arm. They fall into a little routine patter before Sand gets straight to the point. I give him such kudos for doing this, for choosing not to skirt around the subject but confront it head on. Besides, it's not as if avoiding it is going to make it hurt any less. "So what's going on between you and Mew?" Sand frames it as a question, because he wants to hear it from Ray himself. It's the least he deserves. There's also a challenging air in the way Sand looks at Ray with his eyebrows slightly raised. 'Humor me. And don't lie.'

Ray looks visibly uncomfortable and hesitant. I do believe Ray exhibits a conscience where Sand is concerned. He at least has the decency to feel guilty. I think he was hoping they could continue 'as normal' for a little while longer, so he wouldn't have to tackle this difficult conversation. Ray's wordless reaction gives Sand all the confirmation he needs.

Before Ray has anything to say, Sand jumps in with, "Congrats, you're no longer in the friend zone." The way he says this feels 100% genuine. I do think that Sand wishes the best for Ray, because he's in exactly the same position as Ray once was - pining after someone who doesn't return his feelings. So he gets it. He can acknowledge how nice it must be for Ray to finally be reciprocated. This is an example of Sand's 'if you're happy, I'm happy for you' response, because it means the attention is deflected off him.

What Ray says next is also quite telling. He's says things are good but it's very early days, and they're essentially seeing how it goes. "It's okay." Note how Ray doesn't gush or seem particularly animated. A few brief but fairly non-descriptive comments. You'd expect him to be over the moon. I feel like this is Ray's attempt to be minimise the damage by downplaying things. He doesn't want to overly dwell or flaunt his happiness in Sand's face. I also believe there's a degree of honesty here, that Ray has some genuine reservations about Mew and their future as a couple, (that perhaps he's been trying to ignore).

The next few lines absolutely gutted me. "Good, you can finally end the secret crush. Such a waste of time, right?" 'Good for you, you're no longer suffering (like I am)'. When Sand talks about a waste of time, he's referring to himself. 'At least you no longer have to kill time with me, when you really wanted to be with Mew, what a relief that must be.' Sand is massively self-deprecating here. The time they spent together was not special. It didn't have the same meaning to Ray as it did to Sand. Everything he did was meaningless in context because he thinks Ray was simply 'settling for second best' in the meantime. Sand often uses this tone to imply his own foolishness. For continuing to care so much for Ray when he's getting nothing back.

Ray then asks "Are you okay?" I've noticed that when Ray poses this question, he's not really asking. He already knows or he wouldn't ask in the first place. He's basically saying, 'You're not okay but tell me why', allowing Sand to further divulge. However, Sand is never going to give a honest answer to that question. He's always putting on a brave face and pretending to be okay even when he clearly isn't.

Sand then comes back with his classic, "Why wouldn't I be?" "You're seeing someone you've always loved. It's a dream come true." Not a single thing Sand is saying is about his own feelings. His own pain. His own turmoil. He's purposely shifting the focus to Ray, 'well you're happy so I don't matter. It's your dream come true, so my feelings aren't part of this equation' - which just breaks my goddamn heart. 'Who cares what I feel or think about this. I get no say.'

Ray ponders for a second or two. You can tell he's at a loss as to how to salvage things with Sand without losing him completely. So he offers the next best thing he can, in order to still keep Sand around. "Can we still be friends?" Which means, 'I still want to spend time with you. I still want you to be part of my life'. And Ray's face is full of hopeful naïveté that Sand will agree (this boy really has no idea how agonising that would be). For Sand, this is like adding insult to injury. 'Friends' has no clear definition in Ray's terms, and Sand is wary of Ray's tendency to blur that line. So Ray asking him if they can still be friends doesn't really mean anything, which prompts Sand's "You and I have never been friends from the get-go". 'We need to stop fooling ourselves that what we were doing was ever friendship. I've woken up, you need to too'. Sand is not prepared to participate in muddying the waters, especially now Ray is dating someone. It's not fair to anyone involved.

"We have nothing in common. Besides, I don't know why I should be friends with you." This is probably the harshest thing Sand says in this entire conversation. He's very pointedly trying to create distance. Despite evidence to the contrary, he's alluding to differences between them that should justify that distance, justify him pulling away. Sand is just so resigned and matter of fact about all this because he knows there's nothing Ray can say to refute his thinking. It's all far too late anyway.

Ray displays a moment of slight panic and he's clearly thrown by this. 'It's not like that. Don't reduce it to that'. One thing we can be sure of is it upsets Ray to imagine no longer having any connection to Sand. This indicates to me that Ray does value Sand in his own way. Right now he just has no idea what he can offer to keep Sand close to him, because there is no legitimate reason for doing so since he now has Mew.

As a form of consolation, or perhaps a last ditch attempt to tug on Sand's heart strings, he admits, "but when I'm with you, I'm so damn happy." Ray means well by saying this, as in you make me happy. 'That's got to mean something, right?' But by phrasing it this way, it comes across as he's making this all about him. Sand is desperately searching for evidence to prove Ray does care about him, and he keeps coming up empty. He's run out of reasons to stick around anymore. And Ray's not saying the right things to prove him wrong.

Sand deflects again. '(So what if I might make you happy?) You'll be happy with Mew too. I'm nothing special. You'll get to spend time with him in the same way we did'. "You might even be happier," said with a smile no less. Another absolutely gut wrenching line. Sand's sadness clears briefly and he looks sincerely like he wishes Ray the best. It almost feels like a farewell of sorts. 'He'll make you happier than I did. Because I'm not good enough. I'm not what you want.' This is yet further indication that Sand doesn't think he's left any lasting impression on Ray. Whatever they shared with one another, Ray can easily replicate with Mew instead. He's easily replaceable.

Ray reaches out to stop Sand from walking away. Ray is conflicted. He feels regretful over Sand, which he shouldn't be feeling. He's worried that this time Sand is really slipping from his fingers, and there's nothing he can do about it. Because what's done is done. He chose Mew. So what else is there to say?

Sand follows up with, "Let me go already." 'Stop torturing me. Stop giving me false hope when you've already made your choice. Forget me so you can continue being happy and I can move on. Don't make this difficult for me.' Even in this line, I can hear Sand's care for Ray permeating through it. Sand knows he's isn't what Ray wants. He can make Ray happy but not happy enough to choose him. So the best he can do is to send Ray on his way, and to wish him well. All he asks is for Ray to return the favour, and leave him alone to heal. Akin to his addiction, Sand is telling Ray that he needs to let go from clinging to him like a crutch. Because the only purpose he serves is a crutch and nothing more.

He wants Ray to want him for him, and not as a safety net. Not because he provides Ray with some form of temporary comfort or company. Not because he's a means to pass the time.

Why I adore this scene so much is due to the enormous strength and kindness Sand displays here. He could have been much colder with Ray. He could have been petty, outraged, bitter, resentful. But you truly sense his helpless love for Ray throughout the entire interaction. He's still trying to deliver his message in the most considerate way he can manage. He firmly holds his ground but without any malice. 'The tragedy is I can't help but love you, despite what you've done to me'.

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #only friends meta #ray x sand #sand x ray #raysan #sanray #khaofirst #firstkhao #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #crying into my pillow #this scene hurt me so much #sand breaks my heart so badly #how many ways can you feel pain? YES #this BOY *sobs*

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fallinforerling · 1 year

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may i request (from the prompt phrases) 2 - 8 - 17 with erling 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

the shirt dilemma - eh

A/N: As I usually say: ERLING BRAINROT. I can’t stop writing for this man, I’m ABSOLUTELY in love with him. Thank you SO MUCH!!! for 800 followers. Feedback is always appreciated! Love you always xx

ೃ⁀➷ erling’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ erling’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

: ̗̀➛ requested phrases:

2. “i'll never wear the jersey of someone who isn't my boyfriend.”

8. “why are you staring at me like that?”

17. “you have a really pretty face, have you ever heard that?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I can’t believe people actually waste their time plotting about this stuff…” You murmured more to yourself than anyone else in the room, still scrolling through the infinite amount of photos that you found on Twitter. “Kinda creepy…”

“What’s up?” Jack murmured back, kicking your leg with his foot. You raised an eyebrow in his direction. “C’mon, you just said something that implies tea. Now you have to spill it.”

“I don’t have to do shit, Grealish.” You laughed, kicking him back. “But okay, here.” You sat on the couch. “I was on Twitter, and I found some tweets with my name on it, which is kinda weird since I’m not a public figure so… I don’t know, I was digging on my own shit until…” You turned your phone so he could see it.

His eyebrows raised until they almost touched the base of his hair, giving you a full view of the funniest expression you’d ever seen on him since ever.

“That’s an interesting take.”

“¿De qué hablan?” (What are you guys talking about?”) Julián asked, entering the room with hands full of snacks.

“Nada.” (Nothing) You really hated Julián’s impecable hearing. He was always around the corner when you were gossiping with Jack. “Más bien dame comida, que me tuviste esperando como mil años. Me muero de hambre.” (Give me some food, you’ve got me waiting for like a thousand years. I’m starving)

“Luego no me pidas que te cuente algo, porque te vas a quedar con las ganas.” (Later, don’t ask me for any gossip, cause I won’t share any) He replied, throwing a bag of chips at you.

“I actually love when you two speak Spanish in front of me and I understand absolutely nothing.” Jack said after you grabbed the bag, not paying attention to the dirty look Julián gave you before sitting next to him. “Makes me feel like I’m back in Spain for some vacation.”

“I just love when she speaks Spanish.” Erling’s voice startled you. You looked up at him, who was just entering the room. You tore your eyes apart from his figure as quickly as you could, wishing that the heart eyes weren’t that noticeable for any of them. God, he was so handsome.

“You love everything that she does.” Julián said, giggling a bit when you shot him a nasty look. That little fucker.

“True, you’re the biggest fanboy I’ve ever seen in my life.” Jack teased, nudging Erling’s arm when he sat next to you.

“What can I say? I’m a man with great taste.” Erling shot back, leaving you all shaky on the inside. You had to prevent your mouth from falling wide open. You could never get used to that type of compliments coming from him.

It was times like these when you wondered if Erling had any feelings for you. It would be awesome if he did. But you knew it couldn’t be possible; he was playing and teasing around. You were just friends.

“If you’re going to flirt with her, I’m leaving.” Jack said, openly enjoying how uncomfortable you were getting from all the attention. “But also? We could manage to see if we can get this little brat to come to the next game, eh?”

“No, no! Don’t start with that. I already said no a million times before.” You were tired of it. You knew, from past experience, that you would be recognized, and those stupid gossip sites would eat you up.

“C’mon, don’t be such a… coward.” Julián replied, always up to teasing you as well. “It’s fun, you should totally go. Emilia’s gonna be there.”

“But…”

“No, no, not ‘but’. You’re coming, end of discussion.” Erling cut you off, smiling widely when you looked at him. “Please?”

Aw, man. Fuck big blonde guys with green eyes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

So there you were, two days later. Full of regrets and suffering, seeing how your friends (or more like enemies at this point) were smiling like little kids while you stood in the middle of the Etihad Stadium shop. Your arms were crossed, not wanting to give in two times in a row when it came to these guys’ wishes, but it was getting more and more difficult as the minutes passed and Erling’s eyes kept flashing you little looks that were keeping you on the edge.

“Why?” You finally spoke up, giving in to the silence that had overcome the room. “I’ve already accepted to come against my will. Why do I have to wear a jersey as well?”

“Because! Everyone that really loves the team wears a shirt!” Jack said, giving you a knowing look that screamed duh. “You’re our friend, it would be so rude if you just go there wearing…” He pointed to your baby blue shirt with a grin. “That.”

“What’s the matter with it? It’s City’s color, isn’t it?”

“C’mon, you’re not actually doing the most out here wearing a blue shirt, darling.” Erling’s voice had an effect on you. Dammit. “Be a good girl and wear a jersey.”

No, no, no. Don’t fall for it just because he called you a… Oh, god. God, help your daughter.

“Fine!” As usual, you just gave in once Erling stepped in. “Pick a stupid shirt so I can get out of here.”

You were hoping that you were being dramatic over nothing and that they’d probably pick a blank shirt with no actual handle on the back, but as Erling approached his own fucking section, you knew you were absolutely fucked.

“No! Not your stupid ego getting the best of you, I’m not wearing a Haaland shirt!” You wanted to. But it was the worst idea in the world. “I’ll never wear the jersey of someone who isn’t my boyfriend. That’s just a horrible idea.” You didn’t know why you just said that, but it was out there before you could backtrack on your words.

“Why not?” Jack asked, getting closer to you with that cheeky grin that you hated. “What’s wrong with wearing a friend’s jersey just for today? It isn’t good enough?”

Oh, you knew what he wanted to say with that little tone on the word “friend”.

“Because, my dear Jack. People love to speculate about things without actual proof. So, if they see me wearing Erling’s shirt while being here, they’ll think I’m his girlfriend, and…”

“So what?” Erling said, already handing you a shirt. “Let people assume whatever they want to assume.”

“Perhaps, would it be that bad if people think that you are his girlfriend?” It was the first time in twenty minutes that Julián had said a word, but when he did, he cornered you. “Just saying…”

“Yeah, would it?” Erling’s tone sounded almost evil as he slightly pressed the shirt towards you, leaving you no other option but to take it. “Just put it on.”

“I hate you…” You whispered, still grabbing the shirt with a bit more force than necessary.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you for the entirety of the game, which was ridiculous since you were the most boring person and no one— and when you said no one, it was really no one— was giving you a second look as you sat and watched the game like everyone else did.

The paranoia you were feeling was ridiculous. Never in a million years have you felt more targeted for wearing a fucking shirt that said Haaland on the back. You could only pray that a photo of you didn’t make it to Twitter, where a bunch of weird people were already making assumptions about the actual nature of your relationship with Erling. That’s why you were being so negative about wearing anything City or Erling related. You knew how the rumors started.

Like it would ever happen in reality.

“Relájate, boluda. Parece que estás acá contra tu voluntad.” (Girl, relax. You look like you’re here against your will) Emilia shouted over the fans’ voices, seeming entertained by your current state. Just like her boyfriend, apparently.

“¿Te parece?” (You think?) You couldn’t help the sarcastic tone in your voice. “Todo gracias al pendejo de tu novio.” (All thanks to your stupid boyfriend)

“Ay, ya. No es para tanto…” (Aw, c’mon. It’s not that big of a deal…) She paused, giggling. “Estás así porque te gusta Erling, ¿no?” (You’re acting like this because you like Erling, aren’t you?)

“¡¿Qué?!” (What?!) You shouted, feeling your face go deep red as the referee blew the final whistle, letting the entire stadium know that the game was over.

“It’s so obvious, babe. You totally like that man.” She took your hand, not letting you overcome the fact that someone finally acknowledged your feelings for him. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Was all you managed to say, looking around to check if someone was paying attention to you. Again.

“The dressing room.”

Oh-oh.

Your eyes darted to the pitch, where most of the players were still walking around while exchanging greetings and jerseys. You spotted Erling right away; it was very difficult not to. He towered over almost every single person that walked past him, which could be funny if it weren’t for the fact that Emilie knew about your feelings for him. Suddenly, it felt so real. It felt like everyone knew.

“Move or I’ll have to drag you there myself.” Emilia’s tone gave the impression of being absolutely serious about the dragging part, so you started walking out of pure instinct.

You made your way across the sea of people that were leaving or lingering around the benches. You saw how it all appeared to move a bit slower as you followed her, who still had a hold on your wrist, like she was almost preventing you from escaping. You didn’t want to see Erling right now; the way you were so worked up about Emilia’s words was stupid, but you knew yourself, and it was very possible that you were about to blow everything because of the nerves.

“Breathe. You’re crushing my hand.”

“Is it too obvious?” You whispered once you made it to the tunnels.

“That you like him?” She turned to face you, smiling a bit before fixing your hair. “Not to him, I believe.” Her eyes looked behind you, a bigger smile appeared on her face. “But maybe it’s time to let you know that he likes you. Gotta go, Juli’s coming. Good luck.” She kissed your cheek briefly before walking away, leaving you nervous and shaky.

It seemed like being nervous and shaky was the new thing for you.

“What happened to the “no wearing a shirt that’s not my boyfriend's” rule?” You could feel Erling’s hands pinching the fabric of your new shirt before you turned around to face him. His voice was filled with that unique tone he only used when he won, or got his way around something he wanted. Today, both things happened. “Looks great on you, by the way.”

“You made me wear it, loser.” The only way to dissimulate the silent screaming you wanted to do right now was to answer with irony.

“And it’s the best decision I’ve made so far.” He stood in front of you in all his glory, clearly enjoying how pissed you were. You couldn’t help your eyes from going to his bare chest for a whole minute, biting your lip when your eyes met his. His smirk was so big, you wanted to punch him. “About to make the second one.”

So, so handsome. And so, so cocky.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” Was all you managed to say after a few seconds of pure silence, despite all the teammates roaming through the tunnel, clapping and screaming from their recent win.

“You have a really pretty face; have you ever heard that?” He leaned in, and your heart almost escaped through your throat. You couldn’t tear your eyes apart from his.

What if Emilia was right? Was this the right moment? He was totally flirting with you… Wasn’t he?

“I…”

“What about this? You wait here, looking as lovely as you do right now until I shower… And then I can take you to dinner so we can celebrate the win?” He whispered the proposition like it was a promise. At this point, you couldn’t even speak. “How does that sound?”

“Yeah, sure…” You whispered back, holding your bag so close to your chest that you could feel the handles burying themselves in your skin.

“Perfect.” Then he kissed your cheek, and you really stopped breathing for a few milliseconds. And as you were starting to have a little panic attack, he left.

Have you just… agreed to a date with Erling Haaland? Well, fuck.

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dreadsuitsamus · 6 months

Text

Teacher's Night Out | Satoru Gojo x Reader |

author's note: i just imagined a silly lil night like this with him haha he honestly would be so much fun for sooooo many shenanigans

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

warnings: au verse, gojo and reader are college professors, small mention of nsfw topics but nothing remotely explicit, looooootsa kissing

"Your movie is in theater five. Enjoy!" The teen attendant smiles, pointing your way to the left of the crossroad of the theaters.

Satoru grins and leads the way, practically dragging you down the hall. It takes all of your coordination skills just to stay on your feet as the overexuberance from Satoru threatens to remove your arm from its socket. "Why are you so eager?? This movie is supposed to be really bad!"

"You answered your own question." Satoru looks back at you for a wink and pretty smile, tugging you closer to his body as he urges you into the darkened theater that's already playing the previews. "You never have quite as much fun watching good movies as you do making fun of bad ones!"

Letting slip a quiet laugh, your earrings gently knock against your cheek as you shake your head at such an intention. It's not shocking, not one bit, to think Satoru would genuinely rather watch a terrible movie than any other, though roping you into it was something you foolishly didn't expect. It was meant to be an after work thing, nothing more than colleagues spending some time together outside the confines of the time clock, but with the way nobody else showed up and Satoru wasted not even a minute waiting for your other work friends, not to mention how touchy he’s being, the inkling that Satoru is up to something starts nagging a bit more.

The fact that you don't mind is awfully telling to both you and him.

Satoru quickly ushers you both to your seats, the theater so laughably empty that, even though you're a bit late, you can still get the absolute best seats in the house. He slips a few boxes of candy from his pockets, offering them up to you like cards. "Pick any! Except the Sour Patch Kids." Those long fingers swiftly pluck the box from your selection, and you laugh and take another.

"I appreciate you sneaking in candy, but I'm gonna go get a drink from-"

"I'll do it!! Keep my seat safe!" With that, Satoru is quite literally leaping across the rows of seats to the exit, and you can only stare in awe.

He's truly an idiot, and somehow the most decorated professor at the college you're both employed at. It's said by nearly every student he's had how they simultaneously regretted and did not regret taking his class. The curiosity alone makes you wish you could experience the teachings of Gojo Satoru for yourself, though knowing him on the other side of the desk is much more ideal.

It isn't long before your colleague returns, two large sodas in hand that have your brows practically rising to your hairline. “Jeez, Satoru, there's no way I could even dream of finishing this!”

“And these are the medium cups! I was this close to ordering large, just to see how much of my hand and forearm would fit.” He places his drink in the cupholder to his left as you set yours to the one on your right, the one between you left to house the little boxes of contraband he's snuck in. Satoru quickly swaps glasses, leaving the more tinted ones in their case as he opts for his regular frames, not that he plans to actually watch the movie— he's already seen this dumpster fire of a film, and it wasn't even fun to make fun of!

Your gaze flicks to the large screen, briefly wondering just how many previews for much better movies, and maybe much worse, you'll have to see before what you paid for starts to play. Satoru’s slender fingers brush your jaw, gently urging you to look back at him instead. His brilliantly bright blue eyes look at you in earnest, a little smile on his lips as he chews a gummy. “I'm glad you came to see this with me.”

“Of course, Satoru. Especially since the rest of the 'invitees' didn't show.” Your voice is dripping with suspicion, lips curving and a giggle following at the completely unabashed look on his face.

“Guess that cat's out of the bag. But come on! Can you imagine Nanami at the movie theater?! What a bore!”

Another laugh bubbles up despite your best efforts to stay somewhat hushed up. There are a few strays here, after all, and you'd hate to end up in someone's viral Twitter posting for being rude in a movie theater. “Satoru! Kento is a fine man; he can be more relaxed than you give him credit for.”

“Oh?” Satoru’s brow raises and he leans in closer, as if to whisper conspiracy in the dead of the night, his nose nearly tapping the tip of yours. “Have you and Nanami been spending extracurricular time together?”

“You do know we run the creative writing club together, don't you?”

“Literature nerds.” Satoru snorts, his breath fanning across your skin. “What kind of smutty, filthy things does he write, hmmm?”

“Gojo!” You scold, plucking his chest and just barely being able to keep your heart from pumping out of your chest with his awfully close proximity. Boundaries have always been a tad wavy with Satoru, personal space becoming less personal whenever he's around, but he's never quite… unabashedly close to your lips with his own.

“What?? Fine, fine. Keep his secrets! I’d rather hear about what you write anyway. That's the fun stuff.” Satoru leans in closer, his soft, pink lips a mere hair’s breadth from yours— half of an exhale and they'll be touching.

“Come to this Friday's meet then.” Your whisper isn't out of consideration for any other attendees of the movie, as the lights are drawn down and it's begun to play now. “We're doing poetry this week.”

“I can think of far better ways to spend a Friday night.” Satoru lowers his own voice to a murmur. “How about we have our own little meet, you and me?”

“Isn't that what this is?”

“What, you can't make a little more time for me?” Satoru pouts pathetically and you begin to suspect that he can cry on command after seeing how sad his eyes seem.

“I’m a busy woman, Satoru. You know the life of a college professor.” Your tongue darts out over your lips, tasting the vanilla cupcake flavored gloss you slid on tonight.

“So let's make the most of this time then.” Satoru's knuckle taps your chin up and then he's pressing his lips to yours. It's a gentle kiss, an ultimate test of your boundaries, but one he's confident will go his way. He notices the little things about you, the way you linger for him at the end of the day, just to walk to the parking lot together. You have his Starbucks order memorized, make him delicious sweets all the time and do plenty of other soft gestures that make his heart beat.

Warmth floods your face at Satoru's kiss— never in your life did you think things would get to this point between the two of you. All that time pining for him was surely wasted, wasn't it? You certainly could have made a move months ago, and he'd have received you eagerly. It's you that deepens the kiss, encouraging Satoru’s tongue to lick at your sweet lips and, little by little, remove the tasty gloss from your lips.

Satoru’s teeth gently dig into your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth for a moment, letting go soon after. The armrest between you is quickly flipped up, your poor candy boxes sent flying as Satoru moves in further, bracing a large hand on your back as he lays you back in the seat. A rumble echoes in his chest as your fingers find their place in his hair and gently thread through the white locks, spurring the professor’s kissing into something more frenzied, more desperate and with a tinge of neediness dabbled in too.

Your concept of time is muddied by the time Satoru pulls his lips back, your lip gloss smeared between both of your faces in a messy display of actions that you'd expect teenagers to do rather than adults past thirty. Satoru smiles down at you, eyes beautiful crescents to match the gorgeousness of his grin. “So you'll meet up with me again soon, right?”

Satoru can hardly register your snort before your arms are around his neck and pulling him down for more.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Satoru turns his head to the screen, his brows knitted as he witnesses a scene that certainly wasn't there when he actually watched this movie before. “We're in the wrong theater!”

It's a tad hard to explain to the manager on duty that there's been a mistake when the movie you were actually in was ten minutes from its end, but somehow Satoru manages to talk his way into a showing of the film you'd actually paid for, giving you just enough time to slather on some more lip gloss before Makeout Paradise 2: Electric Boogaloo.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk imagine #x reader #reader insert

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wholoveseggs · 4 months

Note

Luv my birthday is on the 24th of this month I was wondering if you could make something for Elijah as a birthday special. 🥰

What did you wish for?

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

♡♡ Happy Birthday Amaya ♡♡

On your birthday, Elijah and Rebekah find themselves at odds when it comes to organizing the party.

2k words - Warnings: pure fluff & a little smut.

Rebekah was at her best when she was party planning; there was something about it that lit a spark in her. She was absolutely in her element. From the food to the décor, and especially the guests, she wanted everything to be perfect. This party was special; it was the first birthday of yours she was able to be a part of, and she was beyond excited. Rebekah was going to make sure it was nothing short of spectacular.

The only problem was there was another person who wanted to plan it as well: Elijah. In the thousand years they spent as brother and sister, they rarely clashed, and even then, the issue was resolved with ease. So the fact that she was currently at odds with him regarding your birthday celebration was completely baffling. She loved him dearly; she was proud to call him her big brother, but right now, she was seriously contemplating daggering him, just for a day or two.

"We need to discuss wine options," he said, entering the room, a stack of papers in his hand. "Perhaps we should have a selection of reds and whites?"

"You're joking, right?" She rolled her eyes, turning back to her work. "I already took care of the drinks. I thought we discussed this; we agreed to let me handle the menu, remember?"

"No, I don't think we did," he sat down across from her. "I recall telling you I would handle the beverages and you, the guests"

"I've already ordered it! If we change anything now, everything will be ruined."

"I see," he crossed his legs, resting his hands atop them. "Perhaps I should make a list of the other decisions you made without my consent. We could start with the decorations, which are hideous, by the way."

She scoffed. "What's wrong with them? They're perfect."

"Perfectly atrocious," he countered.

You were trying your best to stay out of it, knowing it was unwise to come between two originals in a fight, even if you were the subject of it. But the more they argued, the more worried you became. They had been at it for days now, and it didn't seem to be slowing down. It was almost amusing how petty the argument was.

They were both trying to do something nice for you, and it was touching, to know they cared so much. But the more time they wasted arguing, the less time they would have to finish their preparations. And if things didn't get resolved soon, there wouldn't be a party. And that would be a tragedy. You were so looking forward to celebrating your birthday with the two of them.

"Elijah, I'm sorry, but if you don't stop insulting the decorations, I'm going to throw you into a wall. I've worked really hard on these, and I won't have you tearing them down," Rebekah scoffed.

"Fine," he shrugged. "If you want the party to look like a gaudy mess, that's up to you."

"Will you two please stop!" you cut in, unable to take any more. You walked over to Elijah, wrapping your arms around his neck. He smiled softly, kissing you lightly on the cheek.

"Thank you," Rebekah grumbled. "I'm not used to being outshone." She smiled sweetly. "I just want to do something special for my best friend, is that so bad?" she asked him.

Elijah looked up at you, placing his hand over yours, "everything is fine my love, my sister and I will come to an agreement. Isn't that right, Rebekah?" He turned to her.

"We will?" She asked, her tone dripping with annoyance.

"We will," he shot back.

"Okay," you shook your head. "Well, thank you both, for putting this together."

"Don't worry about it, darling. Go get ready for the evening," he responded, pulling back. "Rebekah and I will handle the rest."

You headed off, leaving the siblings to their squabble, praying it would be settled before the party. You'd never been to an original family function, let alone one in your honor, and while the thought was a little terrifying, you were excited.

It had taken most of the afternoon, but Rebekah and Elijah had managed to pull it off. The house looked beautiful, a myriad of colors, and scents wafted through the air.

Elijah had insisted on adding extra lights to all the ivy draped along the walls and ceilings. Rebekah had picked out some incredible food and drinks, long banquet tables filled with dishes from all around the world. She'd even managed to procure a few bottles of wine that Elijah had insisted on.

All in all, it was perfect; you were in awe. As you wandered the halls, admiring the decor and chatting with the guests, a feeling of peace and happiness washed over you.

This was what family was supposed to be. People who cared about you and would go out of their way to do something nice for you, even if they didn't always see eye to eye.

Rebekah came by, fiddling with your outfit and hair, making sure everything was just so.

"Rebekah, really, everything looks wonderful," you insisted, watching as she straightened your dress, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"Thank you," she said, giving you a warm smile. "But, it's not done yet."

"Oh?"

"Come," she grabbed your hand, leading you into the ballroom, where a huge cake stood in the middle. It was covered in delicate icing flowers and dozens of lit candles.

"Happy Birthday!" Elijah shouted, standing next to the cake.

You couldn't believe they had done all of this, and so quickly. You'd never had a proper birthday party before, and here they were, throwing you one, without even being asked. It was the best gift you'd ever gotten.

"Make a wish!" Rebekah exclaimed, motioning towards the cake.

You closed your eyes, blowing out the candles, the smell of smoke filling the air. Elijah wrapped his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips.

"Happy Birthday, love," he whispered, pulling you close. "What did you wish for?"

"Something I already have," you replied, gazing into his eyes.

He gave you a knowing smile, his dark eyes sparkling. "What's that?"

You turned, looking around the room, seeing the smiling faces of the people you loved most. The people who would go to the ends of the Earth for you, who had become your family.

"My family," you grinned, looking up at him. "And I couldn't be happier."

He kissed the top of your head, holding you close, as the others came over, wishing you a happy birthday.

After having your fill of all the delicious food and desserts, Elijah led you to the dance floor, taking you in his arms and swaying gently to the music.

"This has been the best birthday ever," you sighed, leaning into him.

"I think it would have been better if Rebekah hadn't gone with the garish decorations," he replied, his eyes drifting around the room, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Elija-," you were cut off by a soft kiss, his lips brushing against yours.

"I'm kidding, love," he said, pulling away. He wasn't.

You chuckled, shaking your head, and looking out across the room.

The party had been going on for a few hours, and you could tell everyone was starting to wind down. You spotted Rebekah chatting with Marcel, their heads close together as they laughed.

You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you, as you watched the people you cared about the most, enjoying themselves. You never would have imagined your birthday could have turned out this way, and the fact that it did, made your heart swell.

"Come," Elijah said, his arm wrapping around your waist, as he led you out of the room. "I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" You asked, grinning at him.

"Yes, but we need to go somewhere private for this one," he replied, his voice lowering.

"Ok," you said, a feeling of excitement washing over you.

He led you up the stairs, stopping outside of his room, and opening the door, gesturing for you to go inside.

As you stepped into the room, your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes widened. The room was filled with carnations, every surface covered in beautiful blooms.

"Elijah," you gasped, reaching out and running your fingers along the delicate petals.

"Do you like it?" He asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"I love it," you turned around, placing a soft kiss against his lips. "How did you know I love carnations?"

"I have my ways," he smirked.

"Thank you, for all of this. It's perfect," you said, a warm feeling settling in your chest.

"There is one more thing," he replied, stepping away and heading towards the door.

"What is it?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you, but I can show you," he grinned, closing and locking the door behind him.

Your cheeks flushed, and you felt a tingle of excitement run down your spine, as he began removing his clothes, tossing them aside.

"Elijah," you giggled, watching him strip, until he was standing before you, wearing nothing but a smile.

"Happy Birthday, my love," he said, pulling you into his arms and kissing you deeply.

His hands trailed along your body, sending sparks of pleasure through you, as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin.

"You're so beautiful." He murmured, his hands finding the zipper of your dress and slowly pulling it down.

The fabric fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments. His eyes darkened, roaming over your body, before he pulled you into another kiss, his hands sliding down your sides.

He led you over to the bed, laying you down gently, and removing the last of your clothing, his fingers caressing your bare skin.

His tongue traced your breasts, trailing down to your stomach, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached down, his fingers dancing across your thighs, causing you to let out a soft sigh in anticipation. His lips brushed against yours, his breath hot on your skin, as his hands continued exploring your body, every touch lighting you on fire.

"What does my birthday girl desire? Hmm?" He murmured, his hand moving between your legs, brushing against your clit.

"You," you moaned, arching into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders. "Please."

He grinned, slipping a finger inside you, earning another moan from you, and a wicked look flashed in his eyes.

"You like that?" He purred, curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

"Yes," you cried, your hips bucking against him, as your body began to tense.

He added a second finger, pumping them slowly, his thumb circling your clit, as he brought you closer to the edge.

You moaned, digging your nails into his back, as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your walls clenching around his fingers.

He chuckled, his lips brushing against yours, as he pulled you against his chest, your legs wrapped tightly around him.

"Feeling good, my love?" He murmured, his cock grazing your entrance.

"Yes," you breathed, biting down on his shoulder, as he entered you slowly, his hips moving at a leisurely pace.

He peppered kisses along your neck and jaw, his lips brushing against yours with each thrust, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

You could feel the pressure building again, the knot of pleasure winding tighter, your release just out of reach.

"No, no, not yet," he chuckled, sliding out of you, and leaving you feeling empty. He grabbed your thighs, spreading you open, and lowering his head, his mouth finding your clit.

He gently sucked on the sensitive bud, his tongue swirling around it, sending a rush of heat through you. Your hips rolled against him, as the pressure coiled, your thighs tightening around his head as you tumbled over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing over you, his name falling from your lips.

"Such a good birthday girl." He whispered, kissing the inside of your thighs, his fingers trailing along your skin.

He sat up, pulling you into his lap, and bringing you into a passionate kiss, your tongues tangling together. He lowered you down back onto his cock, you wrapped your arms around his neck, riding him slow and deep. He grasped at your hips, lifting you up and bringing you back down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming out in short pants.

You bounced faster, your chest flush against his, his hands tangling in your hair, as your lips found his, swallowing his groans and moans. His fingers tightened, pressing into your flesh, as you both neared the edge, the heat building between you, your bodies slick with sweat.

"I'm gonna-" you gasped, his hips thrusting up hard, his cock brushing against your g-spot with each movement.

"Me too." He growled, sucking on your neck, his pace quickening.

You clenched around him, the pressure snapping, your orgasm rushing through you, his own release following.

Your bodies trembled, his hips rolling, helping you ride out your high, until you fell back on the bed, exhausted and sated. He pulled you into his arms, your chest rising and falling, a content smile on your lips, as he kissed your shoulder.

"Was it everything you hoped for?" He asked, chuckling, his eyes glowing.

"Better." You replied, nestling into him, the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep.

As your eyes fluttered shut, you took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers around you, and the man in your arms, humming softly.

You had never felt happier or more loved, and it was all because of him.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vervain3 ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡

I tried to tag you but I don't think it worked list:

♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡

{please let me know if these tags worked, its my first time using them - xo)

#elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #the originals imagine #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine

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sunflowersandsapphires · 6 months

Note

Hi, can I request comfort fic with Frank? I just don't really like how my life looks right now... I don't like my job, but don't know what else I can do so I'm stuck here... and I feel really lonely recently and like I don't know what to do with my life... and reading fics are one of the few things that brings me joy...

So I thought about a fic where reader is sad and to cheer her up Frank planned a whole day for them to distract her from not kind thoughts?

And I'm sorry that I kinda dumpt it on you... I have trouble with expressing/describing my emotions and I think that was the first time I expressed those feelings to someone... Of course if you don't feel like writing this you can freely ignore this message, thank you 🫶🏻

Anon, I absolutely feel your pain. I’ve been dealing with my own work drama for months now and some days it feels like I’m going to have to completely start over to be happy. I hope I did your request justice, and if you ever need to rant to someone, my DMs are open :)

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank helps you when work is breaking your spirit.

warnings: swearing, hints of smut but nothing graphic

w/c: 3k

Digging your jagged nails into the flesh of your palms, you forced yourself to tune out the overwhelming plethora of stimuli that was currently bombarding you on the subway. Screaming children, the heat of bodies crowding around you, the shrieking of wheels on metal tracks, some old guy coughing up a lung at the back of the car, the bright fluorescent lights beating down on the dozens of people crammed in here like sardines. Fuck, you hated the subway.

It was especially unbearable on days where you were already overtired from work—which, recently, seemed to be every day. This job was supposed to be your ticket to a good life and a stable future, but instead it was a joyless, energy-sapping, waste of your fucking time. Your coworkers were catty, your boss far too demanding for the bottom of the barrel wages you received, and the work itself was dreary. Each day you sat in that cubicle, you could feel the light inside you flickering, just waiting for one more lackluster employee review to be completely snuffed out.

Clearly, you weren’t the only one who felt this way about your place of employment, given that over a third of the staff at your level had quit in the last two months. Unfortunately for you, this meant longer hours and crankier conversations with your superiors, who were consistently disappointed in your performance despite you efficiently accomplishing everything that was asked of you.

Not only did longer hours lead to you getting overstimulated on the subway, but it meant you’d been spending less time at home with your boyfriend. You’d barely seen Frank this month, between his trips out of town and your rigorous schedule, and it was driving you up a wall. All you wanted was to let him wrap himself around you, petting your hair as you cried and holding you tight when you eventually fell asleep. Though, with the way your days were going lately, most of the time you didn’t want to be touched. You just wanted to shove crap food in your mouth and pass out before you had to go back to that hellscape in the morning.

Frank was the kindest, most thoughtful partner you’d ever had, so he gave you plenty of space on the days you came home in an emotion-filled silence. He could read your moods pretty well at this point, and always respected your wishes, even if it meant he’d be nursing a beer in the living room alone until he went to sleep. You’d hoped that today would grant you enough energy to enjoy some time with him, but the world wasn’t that charitable.

Shuffling off the subway amongst the masses, you let your body droop slightly as you trudged back to your apartment. Practically crawling up the stairs, you eventually reached the door—shoving it open in frustration as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

Instantly, you were greeted with the sound of soft music and the smell of onions and garlic cooking. Frank was in the kitchen, swaying almost imperceptibly to the song he was listening to, stirring a pot of what looked like tomatoes.

“Hey, doll,” He greeted you softly, throwing you a smile over his shoulder but remaining planted at the stove, probably in an attempt to give you space.

“Hi.” Your voice was breathy and small, your stony face accented with glassy eyes.

Frank knew better than to expect that everything would change in a day, but the sight of your crumpling face broke his heart. Stepping towards you with a furrowed brow, he tried for a small smile. “Another bad day?”

You nodded, the force of the movement drawing two parallel tears down your cheeks. Sniffling, you didn’t respond, confident that your voice would crack if you did.

“Do you want a hug?” Frank asked, hesitating a few feet from you as he waited for your answer.

“I’m n-not sure, Frankie.” You admitted, more tears pooling as you did. “Not r-right now, I think.”

Nodding in understanding, Frank crossed his arms, as if to keep himself from hugging you anyway. “Alright, sweet girl. Not a problem. Why don’t you go lay down while I finish dinner, hm?”

Sighing, you nodded once, padding to the bedroom and collapsing into the blankets with a poorly stifled sob. Frank winced at the sound, his hands burning with an ache to hold you, to make everything better, but he couldn’t do that until you were ready.

You’d only given him glimpses of the nightmare you were living. Whether you didn’t talk to him about it because you were worried it would scare him away, or because you didn’t trust him, he wasn’t sure—though the dark parts of his mind were convinced it was the latter. Regardless, Frank did his best to maintain a cozy home for you. It couldn’t be easy to have a mass-murderer-turned-government-hit-man as a partner, waiting around on your own for days while he worked odd jobs for Madani, but you’d never let it impact your love for him.

You were thoughtful, sweet, and adorably shy—not to mention you balanced him out in ways he’d never expected. The pair of you brought out the best in each other, despite your peculiar relationship. You’d never made him feel distant or guilty for leaving, simply welcoming him back from his trips with open arms and eager eyes. Yet, the past few months your job had been eating at you, sapping the life from your beautiful eyes and leaving a listless husk of his girlfriend behind.

He didn’t want to pry, far too afraid of snapping your already fragile composure and ruining the bond you shared. But every day you came home holding back tears, and it was going to kill him. He’d rip your office apart with his bare hands if it would end your misery, though he knew you’d never ask him to do that.

So, instead, he did as much as he could—laying out his softest sweatshirt on your bed, playing quiet music, making a warm meal for the two of you to share—all in an effort to take something off of your plate, to remove an ounce of weight from your shoulders. After a week with no indication that any of this was helpful, he’d started scheming.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too much begging to convince you to take an extra day off…

Stirring the tomato sauce one final time as he removed it from the heat, he tilted the pot over the cooked pasta, letting a ribbon of sauce drape over the noodles before giving it a quick stir. Scraping a dollop of sauce out of the pot with his finger, he popped the digit in his mouth, eyes closing in satisfaction at the array of flavors.

Brushing his hands across his jeans, he plated two generous helpings of pasta, assuming you had worked through lunch once again, and set them in front of two chairs at your table. Steeling himself for the sight of your tear streaked face, he shuffled over to the bedroom and knocked softly.

“Darlin’? You ready to eat?” Keeping his voice low, he gingerly opened the door. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light that managed to slip through your curtains, his heart squeezed at the sight of you sleeping, curled in fetal position. Your delicate hands clenched around your covers like they were your lifeline, your damp face squashed against his pillow. Biting his lip in thought, he returned to the main room to cover the pasta.

Spending very little time tidying up, he wandered back into the bedroom, stripping out of his clothes in exchange for a pair of sweats and a worn Henley. Settling behind you with a book in hand, he slipped under the covers as unobtrusively as possible before his inner monologue made him pause. Would you even want him beside you? Was he crossing a line?

Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about that for long as your sleeping form unconsciously wrapped around him, a small sigh falling from your lips as you nuzzled into his stomach. Smiling down at you, his free hand came up to stroke over your hair, his own grin widening when the soft touch made your lips twitch up in a sleepy smile. He thumbed through about a chapter of his book before you began to stir, shining lashes fluttering as your eyes opened. As the sleep disappeared from your eyes, Frank felt another wave of apprehension cresting in his chest, but the tide was quickly settled by your sweet gaze. Nestling into his side more deeply, you hummed in appreciation. “Hi, Frankie.”

“Hi, sweet girl. Did you have a good nap?” A teasing mirth danced in his gaze, making you avert your eyes bashfully.

“Mmm hmm. Sorry.” You murmured, rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt.

Clucking his tongue, Frank slid down to face you, tracing a thumb over your cheek. “No reason to be sorry, dollface. I’m glad you slept, you’ve been tired.”

Sighing deeply, you traced the buttons on his shirt. “Work’s been a lot, recently.”

“I figured as much, doll. Ya don’t gotta tell me anything, but I’m always here to listen, yah?” The tip of his thumb caressed your ear.

Blinking back tears, you looked up at him apologetically, “I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark, Frank, it’s just so stupid and I—“

“Hey, hey, it ain’t stupid.” Frank tugged you impossibly closer, brushing tears off your face carefully. “If it bothers ya, it’s not.”

“You just…” You drew in a ragged breath, the inhale catching on a sob. “You have so much to worry about already, and I don’t want to be a burden!” Bawling now, you felt your chest constricting at the thought of dumping more work onto Frank’s already overflowing to-do list.

“You’re not a burden.” Frank spoke fiercely, looking deep into your eyes. “You have never been a burden, doll. Never.”

His words were a promise, you drank in his commitment with immense desperation, praying to forces you didn’t believe in that he was being truthful. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Frankie,” Your voice cracked on the admission. “I’m fine at my job, but nobody can see that, and I don’t feel satisfied by the work that I’m doing but it’s all I know! I can’t just quit, I don’t have any other plan, this is everything I’ve worked for and—“ Your ramble broke off into sobs, your breath hitching as Frank shushed you quietly.

“I know, I know, doll. It sucks right now and I’m so sorry.” Rubbing a hand over your back, Frank encouraged you to breathe, waiting until your lungs could actually take in oxygen before continuing. “Sweetheart, if ya wanna quit, I’ll support ya. If ya wanna stick it out, I’ll support ya. Regardless of what you choose, I’ll be right here at the end of the day.”

“I can’t quit, Frank, we need the money.” You whimpered.

“Hey, we can figure it out if we need to. It ain’t a problem.”

Nodding against his palm, you considered your options. “For now, I’ll stick it out. But, thank you.”

“No need to thank me, honey. It’s my job to look out for ya, remember?” His sappy remark sparked a tiny smile from you. “You’re my girl, sweetheart. I’m always gonna take care of my girl.”

Nuzzling into his chest, you stifled a yawn before abruptly looking up at him with wide eyes. “Shit, Frankie, what time is it? Did I miss dinner?” Wriggling out of his embrace, you wiped the lingering tears off your face before sitting up. Frank bit his tongue to keep from chuckling at your genuine concern.

“Dinner is waiting for us, sweet girl. I’m in no rush.” Cradling your neck, Frank pressed a languid kiss to your lips, taking advantage of your distraction and flipping you on top of him.

“Frank!” You squealed, beaming down at him with more happiness than he’d seen from you in weeks.

“What?” He questioned innocently, gently leading your face back to his for another kiss.

“What’s gotten into you?” You wondered aloud, returning the kiss but looking at him with feigned exasperation.

“I ain’t allowed to love on you now?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes, shuffling off of him and out of the bed. “C’mon, you sap. Let’s eat the dinner you made before it’s ruined.”

As the night sky populated with stars, Frank doted on you insistently. He’d reheated your dinner, turned on your favorite movie, even brought you a pint of your favorite ice cream for dessert. You’d gratefully accepted his comforts, yet he still seemed to be holding back. As he puttered around in the kitchen, doing the dishes alone (he’d staunchly refused your help), you could see the wheels turning in his brain.

“Frank, is something wrong?” You asked, picking at a stray thread along the seam of the blanket he’d wrapped around your shoulders, gazing over at him as your heart rate pounded anxiously.

“Huh?” Your timid question snapped him out of his thoughts, his hands nearly flinging the soapy dish across the room as he spun towards you. “Oh, uh, no. Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.”

Unconvinced, you nodded, nibbling on a hangnail poking out from your thumb. In an attempt to self-soothe, you shifted your attention back to the tv, but Frank’s energy still seemed out of place.

Placing the last plate in the dishrack, Frank dried his hands, ambling over to you with a hesitant smile. “I gotta ask ya something, doll.”

Nervousness spiking, you nodded, tilting your head in anticipation of his query.

“If I asked ya to call in sick tomorrow, what would ya say?” Frank’s jaw was tight as he asked, clearly expecting anger in response.

“I’d say absolutely, love. Why do you ask?” “I was hopin’ you’d wanna take an extra day, to escape those assholes and maybe do something fun?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Frank Castle looked nervous. His eyes flirted between your gaze and his lap, his trigger finger twitching.

“Oh, Frank, I’d love that!” You gushed, throwing your arms around him. He grunted in surprise, his own hands coming up to hold you in place so you didn’t topple off the couch. “I’ve been hesitant to take sick days because everyone’s been so on edge lately, will you sit with me when I call in?”

“Course I will. If anyone gives ya trouble, they’ll have me to answer to.” Frank assured you with a menacing glint in his eye. Kissing his nose, you stroked a knuckle over his stubbled cheek.

“Thank you, handsome.”

“Anything for my girl.”

True to his word, Frank made sure you were seated comfortably in his lap when you called in sick, both so that he could rub reassuring circles along your waist, and so that he could hook his chin over your shoulder to listen for any flack you might be given. Fortunately for your boss, they grumbled an “ok” and hung up quickly. Anything ruder than that, and they might have been on The Punisher’s shit list.

Sinking backwards into your boyfriend’s sturdy chest, you shuddered. “Glad that’s over with.” Breathing deeply, you took a moment to collect your anxious self before standing to get ready for the day. Or, trying to stand, at least.

A set of strong hands caught your hips, yanking them backwards to hold you in Frank’s lap.

“Frank!” A small fit of giggles burst out of you as his fingers pressed into your ticklish skin.

“What’s the hurry, doll? We’ve got all day.” Planting heated kisses along your neck, you felt Frank smile when you mewled in response. “Attagirl, let me make ya feel good, hmm?”

Whisking you back to the bedroom, Frank helped you forget all about your shitty job.

Slightly breathless following your morning exercise, you hummed happily as Frank continued to press his lips to the exposed flesh of your body, taking care to show every piece of you as much love as possible. Boxing you in with his massive arms, he molded his beautifully crooked nose against yours, finishing his trail of kisses with a lengthy kiss to your lips.

“So, what did you have planned for today?” You asked against his lips, threading a hand in his hair.

“Nothin’ much. I was thinkin’ maybe nice coffee and a trip to that museum you’ve been talkin’ about?” A blush crept over his cheeks. “Sorry, doll, I, uh, I ain’t too good with this…” He gestured between the two of you.

“Aw, Frankie,” You scolded gently, kissing him tenderly. “You’re plenty good at ‘this’.” You mirrored his gesture and he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, honey. You’re the most romantic partner I’ve ever had. And that plan sounds lovely. Let me clean up and we can go for coffee.”

As you curled into a seated position, Frank caught your wrist. “Hey! Where do you think you’re goin’?”

“To wash up!” You giggled, striding back over to the bed where he slotted you between his legs.

“Nah, you’re gonna sit right here while I draw you a bath. And I’m gonna run to the coffee place across the street and get ya one of those sugary drinks ya like so much. Then we can go out, if ya feel up to it.” His demanding tone made you smirk, his military tendencies tended to come out when he was concerned about you.

“That sounds perfect, love.” You kissed his cheek, sitting on the bed as he headed to the bathroom.

The rest of the day passed quickly, leaving you longing for more cozy time with Frank. Though he considered himself lacking in the romance department, he’d provided you nothing but pure love on your day off, indulging your every whim just to see you smile.

And as you fell asleep at the end of the day, you clung tightly to him, trusting him to get you through whatever life threw your way.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #marvel #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle angst #the punisher imagine #the punisher x reader #punisher #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #my writing #fc #leah answers

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umnitsa · 5 months

Text

You should mess with Jim - 7

Summary: Big Jim is out for the week, he's eager to go back home! Maybe to your home :3

A/N: I don't even know, my friends. It just came to me as a flash, and damn, I missed Big Jim. By now I'm not sure we are going anywhere but the bedroom with those two bunnies. <3

Banner from @cafekitsune

Written with unholy eagerness and absolutely no proofreading!

Pairing: retiredpornstar!Hopper x fem!Reader

CW: Fingering, degradation (in a loving way), cockwarming, talks of Jim being an old man (any age gap is on your mind, I didn't write it!)

Jim had to be patient.

You two had a lovely day together and unwillingly parted ways. At least he wished you could have stayed more.

Fuck, you were cuddly. And you let him indulge in his laziness, curled on top of him, wasting hours of your time just enjoying the feeling of your skins touching.

But he couldn’t fuck you that night. He had a bit of a resurgence and, fuck, money was money. So he was going to travel for work, a week. He told you so, with sadness, and you just shyly asked if you could see him when he came back.

Jim wanted to sweep you into his arms and crush your body against his.

He never hated his work that much.

Every night he wondered if he should call you, and he broke his resolve by wednesday night.

“Hey, sweetie.” He softly gruffed.

“Jim!” You chirped happily. “I was hoping you would call.”

“Didn’t want to bother you.” He said softly. “If I knew I wouldn’t would have called earlier.”

You giggled, making him open a huge smile. He placed a hand behind his head, laying on the bed. Jim felt the stirrings of desire in his lower belly. Jim closed his eyes and exhaled, he still had shoots in the next day… Jim looked at his dick and huffed. He was surely regretting his policy of saving himself for the moneyshot that moment.

“What are you thinking?” You asked, curiously.

“I’m getting hard just from hearing you giggle, sweetie.” He growled. “I work tomorrow, I can’t do anything about this.”

“Really?” You giggled even more. “Don’t give me power, Big Jim.”

“You’re a tease.” He stated, his smile almost audible through the telephone, somehow. “Tell me how was your day.”

“Work, home, touching myself to a video of yours… Nothing much.” You teased, Jim groaned in response.

“Damn, sweetie, this is serious!” Jim blurted, exasperated but feeling incredibly fond of you at the same time. You exploded in giggles, and he huffed.

“Sorry.” You said, but he could hear you were not really sorry. Naughty little thing. He really enjoyed that aspect of you. “Anything new?”

“Oh, I was casted to play Santa, for the first time.” He said amusedly, scratching his chest, his cock hard, unattended, making his boxers sticky. “I’m gonna get all the ho-ho-hoes.” He continues, cheekily. You groan.

“I don’t know why this made me wet.” You giggle.

“I am the biggest DILF in the business, I know I am. I got the sense of humor and everything.” Jim looked down and sighed. “I gotta go, darling. This call isn’t getting easier.”

Jim had to be patient.

***

By friday you were angry and a bit testy. The damn call gave you the unholy idea not to touch yourself until Jim visited. You thought it would be sweet, just three days, it wouldn’t be much.

You were avoiding your computer like the plague, so you wouldn’t be tempted by all the porn in the internet.

You thought he would find it cute that you even tried, but by night you were considering getting your toys and not telling him what you did.

It was late, when you heard the knocking on the door.

Your state of undress didn’t bother you, only one person could be knocking on your door so late. Jim. But he told you he would arrive in the morning.

You opened the door, quickly.

“Did you order a pizza?” Jim was standing at the doorstep, smiling. He had two big boxes of pizza balanced in one hand, some beer on the other. There was a backpack hanging from his shoulders. You giggled, insanely happy to see him. “I finished early and changed my flight.”

You stepped back, inviting him in. You directed him to the table, so he could get rid of the pizza boxes and the beer, at least.

“Oh, I love men who come bearing gifts, you are a Prince.” You rubbed his back, humming as you felt his solid expanse under your fingers. A shiver between your legs made you tremble, and you were painfully aware of the fact you weren’t wearing panties under your big shirt. “I’m glad you came early.”

“It’s rare, but it happens.” He chuckled with his own double entendre, then turned to you. “Last weekend was so good I thought we could repeat the dose. Here, this time.” His big hand moved over your waist, pulling you closer. “I want you to see the one I did today, the Santa one.”

“Are you fishing to see if you can awake a new kink in me?”

“Oh, no. I wanna see you complain about every single dirty pun in the damn script, you’ll love it!” He grabs his belly and boasts a ho-ho-ho, to your utter dismay. You explode in laughter, then groans playfully. You can feel your thighs sticky, as he smirks at you. “Come on, let’s eat some pizza, then we can cuddle.”

You must have made a face, or a noise, because Hopper stopped, a slice of pizza on his big hand.

“What happened, sweetie?” He raised his eyebrows, looking concerned. “You look like a deer in the highlights.”

“Well…” You toe the floor, looking mischievous. “I felt sorry for you in that call so I stopped touching myself until you came back.”

“Oh, baby.” Jim’s eyes sparkled, a crooked, satisfied smirk curling his lip to one side. “You’re frustrated. Your greedy pussy didn’t get even a finger! I bet she’s hungry.”

Jim sat, smiling smugly, bit on the pizza slice as he watched your squirming. He chuckled and opened a beer.

“Sit, eat something, you’re gonna need your strength eventually.” Jim sounded so sweet you felt almost as if he was mocking you. It made you blush, his teasing.

“You’re evil, Jim.” You grumbled, pulling one chair.

“As if you don’t like it.” Jim pokes you playfully, fingertips tickling your side. “So you took pity on me and decided to save yourself for your own particular moneyshot.”

“When you say it like this it doesn’t sound like a good idea.” You chuckle.

“You forgot two things.” He raised two fingers, a huge, sweet smile on his face, making his eyes twinkle. “One: my work gives me some relief, so I wouldn’t be waiting for long. Two: you’re a horny little dirty thing. It must have been hell.”

He kept eating, as if nothing was happening, his fingertips tickling over your thigh, up and down. A feathery soft tease kissing your skin, up and down. You felt the tingle in your pussy, and a shiver up your body.

“Poor little thing.” He rumbled gently, palming your thigh, his warm palm a source of unbearable heat against your skin. “I bet you’re so frustrated. Your toys are probably glad for the small vacation.”

“Hey!” You blushed, squirming under his gaze. You squirmed, feeling pinned down by his eyes. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, shame acting just as fuel to the fire between your legs. “I like to imagine my toys are happy.”

“I can imagine how much the little motors struggle to keep up with your desire, little slut.” He teased again, testing the waters to see your reaction. He looked so sweet, his eyebrows raised, degrading you so gently. Your nipples hardened, sensitive against the shirt. “Hmmm, I see you like that. Good to know… I do too, sweetie.” He brushes the back of his fingers against your nipple, rubbing gently up and down. “It’s so good when we enjoy those things together, isn’t it, honey?”

Even with all the sweetness, he sounded almost condescending. Smug, even.

You whimpered, nodding, almost overwhelmed by his light touch. He was playing with you.

“Aw, look at you, all dumb… And I barely did anything! So sensitive, little thing.” He palmed your breast, enjoying your hard nipple poking the palm of his hand. “I bet you’re not wearing panties.”

Jim let go of the pizza, opened a beer, then pulled you to sit on his lap.

“Oh, lucky me wearing shorts today, I can feel you so warm against my thigh.” His hand wrapped around your waist, and he rubbed your skin, and your hip. He squeezed, kneading gently as he sipped on the beer. He released the can and raised his fingers to your nipples.

A flash of cold enveloped your sensitive nipples, through the shirt, the cold moisture of condensation that still cling to his fingertips seeping on the fabric and adding a new layer of sensation. You shivered.

Jim leaned, his nose brushing gently against your ear, his hot breath fanning against your cheek.

“Does that feel good?” His fingertips moved gently over and around your nipples. With a light caress to the curve of your breasts, his hand goes back to the can. He drinks, watching you with the side of his eyes. His lips curved lightly up, as you tensed.

“Yes, it does.” Your voice was trembling, shaky from the effort of pushing words out, when your body was so focused on the feelings brought by his gentle ministrations.

“Would you like more? What do you want, little slut?” Jim felt his cock straining his shorts, pulsing, his underwear sticking to the head. He knew he was too tired to fuck you the way you deserved, but he would make sure you would come as many times as you needed, on his fingers and on his tongue.

He wanted to make you come, as many times as he could; he wanted to feel you slack against his body, fucked out, floating in afterglow.

But he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to tease you. He enjoyed your wide eyes, your trembling lip; so afraid of your own desires but ready to sample each one of them. With him.

He could list a thousand reasons why you shouldn’t want to… He didn’t think he was worthy of your desire, but you gave it so freely. It was so pure… He had to taste it.

You panted, trying to take control of your own body, at least enough that you could answer him, but you were mesmerized by the way he moved. His thick fingers made the can look so small, and it made you feel warm to think those big, thick fingers could fit in you, and make you feel so good.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen, my greedy little whore.” He rested the can against the table. His fingertips went back to your nipples and once again you shivered.

“I really need to come, Jim.” You pouted, wiggling your hips so he could feel how wet you were. “Soon.” You swallowed, licking your lips. You raised your hands and placed them on his chest. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek gently. He watched your eyes, your lips, licking his own. You blinked, eyelashes wet. “Please, Jim.” You whined. “I can’t take much more. I’m sorry.”

Jim wanted to crush you against his body, just hug you so tightly neither of you could breathe. Nodding, he made you stand up, then stood himself.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. I’m here now.” He looked around, navigating your house, considering where your bedroom should be. With a comforting smile, he lead you through the house, leaving you sitting on the bed. “I’ll take care of you, lie down. I’m gonna wash my hands.”

You nodded, taking your shirt off and lying on the bed. Jim didn’t take long to be back, soft smiles and slow, purposeful movement. His eyes trained on you, he stopped at the side of the bed and took his shirt off, in one quick movement. He then opened his belt and toed off his shoes. It was such a mundane moment, but you were entranced by the way his big body moved.

“You’re so beautiful.” You whispered, the words just escaping your mouth.

Jim blushed, laying down, his head between your legs.

“I’m too tired to give you everything you deserve right now, sweetie.” Jim nuzzled your pussy gently, humming along your slit. “I’m just an old man you seduced with your needy, begging eyes. Keep offering this sweet, greedy pussy to me… How can I say no?” He licked a broad strip along your pussy, and the pleasure you wanted so much hitting you like an electric current.

You felt his shoulders under your thighs, his thick arms wrapping around your legs, as he licked more and more, pressing his face against you. A moan escaped your lips, your hand holding his head, burying your fingers in his hair. He growled, pulling back.

“So desperate.” He mused and shifted again; you felt his thumb against your clit as he looked up for your reactions. He rubbed in circles, in an unhurried pace. “Do you want a finger, sweetie?”

“More!” You whined, pushing against him.

“More than one?” He taunted, gently. “Two?” He chuckled condescendingly. You nodded, eagerly, as he teased your hole. “Three? Greedy… You sure you can take it? Two whole days neglecting your little pussy…”

He pushed two fingers into you, carefully. You whimpered, and his lips went back to your clit. He licked and suckled as his fingers thrusted in and out of you, to his knuckles. You whined and pushed against him, desperate for release.

Chuckling, Jim added a third finger and angled them just right. You felt weightless, your orgasm exploding into fireworks, fizzling against your skin. Your consciousness slipped, ecstasy burning through the edges of all your senses.

“So good for me. Look at that.” He whispered softly, pulling away. “So good… My little pervert…”

You chuckled, feeling his hands sliding over your body, big paws grabbing and kneading your flesh. He chuckled too, blushing.

“You liked it, don’t you?” He asked, almost sheepishly. “I mean, I love that you are a little pervert.”

“Yeah, Jim.” You turned to your side, as Jim wrapped his body around yours. “I really enjoyed your dirty fantasies, old man. So helpless against my charming pussy.” You chuckled, squirming against him.

“Temptress.” Jim pushed his cock between your slick thighs, his warmth a furnace along your slit. You grumbled, pushing back, trying to get comfortable. “What about some cockwarming, hm?”

“Oh… It would be good.” You sighed, as his cock slid inside you, thick, hard, pulsing, as you squeezed him tightly. “Fuck, Jim…” You exhaled, your body relaxing against his.

“Yeah.” He hugged your body, crushing you against him. “So greedy you can only relax with my cock buried deep inside your cunt.”

You giggled, your muscles fluttering under and around him. He sighed, a deep chuckle, then yawned, nuzzling your neck.

“This poor old man is tired from working and travelling so he could meet his dirty little pervert.” Jim said, mirth obvious on his voice. “He needs his sleep so he can fuck his sweetie properly, just the way she deserves.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. You could feel his breathing calming down, getting deeper, until he was rumbling softly against you. Jim’s soft snores made him vibrate gently.

His hand absentmindedly caressed your thighs, your belly, as he drifted to sleep; his warmth and solid presence pulled you with him.

#maycore #mayb writes #hopper smut #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x fem!reader #pornstar!jimhopper

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