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#indulging my love of deep voices
mimirjoo · 2 years
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 Fuck it, Phantom of the Opera!AU feat. my ocs.
Some lore: - The Soldier (Ishmael) was a farmer, but repeated droughts dried up his land and his fortunes. His mother was a sick, frail thing, so to provide for her and his father he signed up for the army, thinking of returning after a year to a house with a roof that didn’t leak, plenty of food at the table, and his mother rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed again. But the war dragged on, and after five years he returned to an empty house, a pair of gravestones, and the money he was sending home nowhere to be seen. All that time living in the trenches earned him one wad of cash, a torn photograph of ghosts he once knew, a battered army jacket, and nightmares in his head. With no where else to go, he left for the Citadel, where an old friend promised him room and board for cheap and a job at the opera house. So he picked up his briefcase and beat-up guitar and hitched the next train to the Walled City itself, where his fortunes would take a strange turn.
- Ishmael was mostly a quiet man, friendly and gentle, but quiet. He liked the job enough, working as the janitor/stage hand/maintenance man to put his hands to work again. It also afforded him time alone, sweeping and fixing and tinkering. And when he was alone, he liked to sing. Marvelous voice he had, the deep notes vibrating through the halls and the rafters. Smooth like thunder, a fellow soldier of his once said after he picked up his guitar and sang a song of home in a nameless tavern in a forgotten town. But like something that came from six feet under. And little did he know, deep below the opera house, someone listened as his voice was carried through stone and over water.
- The Phantom (Vesta) hid away from the world, haunting the cisterns and chambers beneath the opera house. There, she could conduct her arcane sciences in peace, far from the prying eyes of the public. Beneath the notice of the Magisterium, the Inquisitors, and the College. As if being born at the borderlands wasn’t unfortunate enough, her bloodline was cursed with strange, wild magic running through their veins. People had been taught to fear magic unbound by Thaumaturgical Law, and thus they feared her and her sister, even when she was a little waif who wouldn’t hurt a dog that snarled at her on the street. And with Magisterium rallying that fear turned to hate, and that hate produced a bomb. It took her arm and her sister’s life. So she turned her back on the world in return, drifting from place to place, hiding in the shadows and learning her wild magics in secret. She listened close to the sound of magic, and began to sing in Tongues. Her scarred appearance masked a sharp, quick mind, and a dark hunger which grew. 
- As for how she got to the opera house, it involved a glory-stealing professor, a ratty, eager-to please concierge, some stolen jewels, a lasso, a ransom, and a bribe. And some dark magic. At least that’s how Mme. Guillermo, the concierge, tells it. 
- When she heard a voice from above while navigating the cisterns below, a voice deep and resonant, she stopped and listened. For the voice hummed with something latent, a slumbering magic. Untapped potential. She had to find its source, and after a bit of investigation she found it coming from a man sweeping the stage after the doors had shut for the night, using his broom as a makeshift microphone. The new maintenance man, Mme. Guillermo told her. Looks like someone’s going to be paid a visit by the Phantom.
Extra notes below the cut.
- Vesta and Ishmael are my ocs for a separate project, and I liked their designs and dynamic well enough to plop them into this au. But what once was a fun little diversion turned into someone more complex, and now their selves here can be considered... different... characters...
- Ishmael is closest to his canon characterization, except he’s less sneaky and enigmatic here. Less of a funky bastard (affectionate).
- Vesta is far more different from her version in my personal project (she’s actually the villain there). However, an important carried-over trait she has here is that she wants relationships that are reciprocated, so no, she won’t be forcing anyone to stay with her. She also dislikes relationships based on falsehoods from personal experience.
- The au is inspired a bit by Dishonored (which I have not played). Might add a bit of Spanish Colonial Era Philippines, if I’m up to it. 
- There isn’t a Raoul in this au (if there is a character who’s the closest thing to a Raoul they’re probably long dead anyways). The relationship between the Soldier and the Phantom can go on unimpeded by that, oho.
- I’m planning to do an Equivalent Exchange type of magic system (Fullmetal Alchemist was part of my childhood) here for the Thaumaturgical Law. Basically, the Thaumaturgical Law is structured magic, controlled through careful ritual and runes. Wild magic, found in nature, is more chaotic and unpredictable. Mishandling can lead to... unappealing results. Magical shockwaves. Zones devoid of life. Plants growing out of people. Still figuring out wild magic’s uses. 
- Vesta’s prosthetic arm (which is actually unique to this au, it’s not in the personal project canon) is powered by magical means. Thaumaturgic magic in the medical field is new, but it’s important to know that it’s difficult to use on people like her with innate magic. There could be a reaction (uhhh... something like a magic immune reaction or something, like a transplant rejection), so the treatment has to be very, very carefully tailored to the person with innate magic. This is why she won’t change her eye color (it’s a trait of her specific... ethnic group? Bloodline?) which marks her as someone with innate magic. She’s already lost one eye, she’s not taking a risk at damaging the other.
- Speaking of Equivalent Exchange, what exactly did Vesta sacrifice to get her arm to become fully functional, hm? 
- On a lighter note, Ishmael’s love language is sharing his food. He eventually offers Vesta half of his deli sandwich, because love is stored in the sandwich.
- Vesta’s love language is going on and on about her interests. She enjoys teaching more than she thought she would. Voice lessons, anyone?
- I imagine Ishmael eventually being offered a room to stay at the opera house by the Phantom after the rent gets too worrying. She pulls some strings and gets him a comfy place. Congrats! You now have a neighbor other than Mme. Guillermo, Vesta.
- Why is the Phantom so dramatic in trying to charm Ishmael? It’s because she likes pulp fiction. (She gets books from the opera library, the lost-and-found, or from Mme. Guillermo. Mme. Guillermo brings her the latest book catalogue, she marks down ones she likes, sends her off with some cash, and gets her books dropped off at Box No. 5.) Cut her some slack, she’s making do with the knowledge she has.
- Box No. 5. is hers, no one else will sit in her seat.
- Oh, and she still extorts money from the superstitious owners of the opera house. Having a reputation as a vengeful ghost who can cause chandeliers to fall on unsuspecting victims has its perks.
- I might split Christine’s role into two; the bass who becomes the Phantom’s muse and the scrappy ballerina-in-training who gets stuck below the opera house on a dare to find the opera ghost. It’s basically the “what’s with this sassy... lost child” meme between her and the Phantom, and the Phantom has to show her the way out while staying hidden. The Phantom ends up unintentionally adopting her. (I have done it, everyone! I’ve milf-ified the Phantom!)
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kerorowhump · 11 months
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#keroro#i love this. she is me. i can live my unbridled amounts of cute aggression towards him THRU HER#i literally need to do this irl#like i just skimmed ep 64 bc i was curious about this trauma switch thing and ive never wanted to grab him and whack him around more#in an affectionate way not because im mad at him oh no. i understand him so deeply. i feel him. i know his most inner psyche.#and he inspires unrecorded levels of senseless violence in me#me in my little ignoramus bubble writing a 4 pages dissertation on his character anyway bc like. i get him ok#his deep seated sense of guilt that he's constantly fighting against. that he needs to repress and deny in order to function.#his fear of abandonment. fear of never being enough. not being able to make up for it. for himself. thats why hes self sacrificing#his selfish childishness that comes from not having been allowed a lot in his youth. taking friends for granted in his past but knowing -#you dont fit in with them. constantly apologizing for yourself. taking space. too much. self indulgence. because friends is s scary concept#and yet one you couldnt survive without. letting them walk all over you. denying your anger. your fears. crawling back to them with a smile#at their feet and biting time because what you really want is friends. company. but you think you don't deserve it. deep down.#maybe u dont. your worst reminder the friend you love. and if they ditch you it's deserved. you don't need them (you do)#why am i rambling!!!! he has ruined me. if im wrong dont even tell me bc i prefer this version in my head anyway#*charlie voice* look at me. psychological trauma up to here#im not saying growing up poor with a father that shames you for your interests and ''disciplines'' you made him selfish but. no yes!#i am saying that. bc i know how it is. growing up with friends that have a lot that u can never afford. u feel guilty just being with them#ok we strayed a lot from the og post which is just me saying I WANNA PUNCH THIS GUY SO BAD (he is me)#keroro gunso
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chastiefoul · 4 months
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love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel
fluff, fluff, FLUFF
zayne
his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in
he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.
“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.
he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”
you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”
you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.
you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”
“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”
xavier
he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.
he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.
your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?
xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.
you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.
“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive  you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.
you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”
rafayel
oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.
“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”
“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.
you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.
“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.
finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.
his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.
“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.
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arminsumi · 8 months
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ADULT STORE
↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."
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1.5k words
Pt. 2
Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)
Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈
Playme : wanna know what it's like?
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The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.
The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.
"Yo."
Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.
He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.
"Ah, h-hello..."
He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.
"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.
"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."
Yeah, that's what I thought.
He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.
"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"
His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.
"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."
Aw, of course.
"M'kay... then let me assist you."
He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.
"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"
"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.
I know exactly what she needs...
"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."
His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.
Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.
"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"
Aw, she's flustered.
"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."
Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.
"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."
There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.
He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.
"This one's got ten functions—"
"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."
"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."
The two of you share a long look, then laugh.
"But it really is an excellent product."
"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.
"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."
I could make her squirt.
He's running his eyes up and down your body.
"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.
"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."
He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.
"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.
A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.
Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...
He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.
"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.
You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.
He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.
"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.
"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.
He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.
"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."
"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."
Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.
His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."
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After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.
He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.
He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.
"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."
He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.
"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?
"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"
"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"
He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.
Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.
He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.
She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.
You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.
"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.
You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.
"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."
"Fuck, okay."
And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.
"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.
Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.
His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.
This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.
"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"
He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.
Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.
"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."
And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.
Please cum on my face. Please please please.
"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"
You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.
He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.
"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"
Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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sweetfushi · 29 days
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toji fushiguro who is known for his stoicism and sarcastic remarks, surprising every single person he knows when he indulges in your cute hobbies and dedicates 99% of his time to you with no real complaints. this giant, muscular man is seen finally cracking a smile around none other than his girl, having a polaroid of your beaming face in his wallet that he stacks with cash to ensure he can pay for your plushies and endless requests for food and coffee/boba runs.
he has a small pochacco keychain dangling from his keys. he'd prefer to not have someone mention it but when they do, he smirks - his scar stretching - when he's reminded of how eager you were to give him another item to remind him of you. "you're too cute, mama," he chuckles, softening at the sight of you gazing up at him with sheer excitement to see him cherish your gifts.
when he hugs you, he doesn't slack. he doesn't just wrap an arm around your shoulder, he pulls you into his chest and rests a hand on the back of your head, the other encircling your waist as you cling to him. the height difference allows him to rest his chin on your head, but he prefers burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent and feel you as much as possible.
toji fushiguro who's heard laughing every time he is with you, the deep tones of his voice sending a rush of heat through your face. sometimes he snorts at your bad jokes, ruffling your hair and shaking his head with a grin. he hates admitting it, but he loves unwinding around you, and it's something that everyone else notices too.
sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).
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tojisun · 3 months
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!! nsfw; poly 141 ; sexting; fem reader
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price gets a video, a measly six-second thing, from ghost.
he's used to getting all sorts of messages from his lieutenant, but a video has never been a part of them.
it was always soap who sends them videos upon videos—saved videos of things that make him lose his shit or links that are his new turn-ons. price even gets personal messages from the fella; sometimes it's his sergeant venting in lilted scottish, sent to price's personal number on a drunken whim, and sometimes they're videos of him pleading.
"sir, please... wanna cum."
kyle is still getting used to the dynamic. he's still a little shy, hesitant, although he seemed to be getting more bold in text. more pushy. descriptive.
then there's ghost. he is a whole different beast from the other two because instead of begging, instead of putting price above his own pleasure, he backs the captain into a corner, pushing him close to the edge with little taunts and teases.
price remembers the first time ghost has done it. he sent the captain a picture of a lacey panties hanging off of ghost's jean pockets, the rouge of the soft material drawing price's eyes to the distinct tent in his lieutenant's pants, leaving his throat dry. he remembers fisting his own cock at the image, mind running because of ghost's anecdote—
"you would like her."
john had never cum so fast when masturbating, and yet there he was, twitching on his office chair, chest heaving as ragged rasps of breaths passed through his clenched teeth.
"your girlfriend's got a good taste," price had messaged back.
"and me?" was what ghost replied with.
"you already know," price sent. then, "you always know how to make your captain proud."
that correspondence might have been what pushed ghost to keep sending more messages. more taunts. more teasing images that had price rubbing himself in any smidgen of a private corner he could find because simon was never one to disappoint.
so this video had set john's blood on fire, heat scorching from his spine and pooling towards his twitching cock. hairline fractures fill the sides of his phone's screen, leaving rainbow lines filing his eyes at every reflection of the light.
ghost had always liked to share you to him. price knew for a fact that simon had never sent pictures of you to the others—"need your permission first, sir."—but he also thought that simon had drawn the line there. that while he was eager to share snapshots of your pretty little lingeries or the way you marked up simon's tanned skin with deep punctures of what john knows must be straight teeth, simon was not going to indulge john any more.
and yet.
he feels his lungs burn. trembling fingers reach to play the video.
the sound of your squealed moans bouncing against the walls was what he registers first. ghost has you on your knees, and john traces the way simon's got a chokehold on the back of your neck. john watches as ghost uses it as a leverage, tugging you back to his cock—his pelvis is pressed flush against the fat of your ass, and price feels his gums throb with the need to sink his teeth into your flesh at seeing the ripples of your fat bunch up against the bulk of simon's muscles.
"si! si!" you sobbed, muffled as you have your head burrowed into the pillows. your hands are useless by your sides, limp and incapable of even fisting the sheets.
"s'right," simon's voice echoed from behind the screen. "show cap'n how you love moanin' my name."
simon's mention of john has him jolting, his breaths stuttering once again.
he thought this little thing they have was a secret. a dirty, little, desperate secret that only he and ghost had the privilege of knowing. the immorality of it had always pushed john to his orgasm faster than his every rub, and he thought that it would all change the moment you know.
but this is a better treat.
it's a feast.
because john sees it for what it is—a promise.
the video ends, reminding john how short it really was. but he is addicted, unable to let go now that he's been given a taste of what will be.
the next time he replays the video, he's got his erect cock in his hand.
he snaps a picture of his cum-filled palm and sends it to simon. he writes, "show her what she does to me."
it takes twenty-three seconds for simon's reply to come in. it isn't a message but a voicenote—"am i a good girl, cap'n?"
"yeah," john records himself say. "so, so good f'r us, doll."
sorta pt 02
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alatusprinz · 11 months
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when you call him good boy .
characters: wanderer/scaramouche, kaedehara kazuha, albedo, xiao
genre: smut, (warning of explicit words choice)
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Scaramouche/Wanderer sneers at you mockingly when the words fall from your mouth. His grip on your hips tightened as he snapped his hips into your behind roughly, deliberately thrusting in so deep so your back arches with your face buried into the pillow. He hated when your needy moans were silenced when it wasn’t on his accord, making him reach out to grip onto your hair roughly to pull your body up while holding onto your neck with his other hand, forcing you to find balance in an awkward position with your knees on the mattress and back against his chest. His hips never halted one bit, still thrusting in relentlessly into your drenched walls as your mind blanked out from the dizzying stimulation. Tightening his grip on your neck, he leans into your ear, almost purring in a sickeningly sweet voice. 
"Fuck, you like that don't you? Like being used like a little dolly for me?" You whimpered weakly as your scalp slightly burned from his tight grip, your body moving to meet his slams involuntarily from the force of his each thrust. It always felt like this, almost too good, too overwhelming from the borderline ruthless way he fucked you. As your broken moans persisted and he wanted to see you break down more, let go of your hair with a satisfied smirk and instead held onto both your wrists to pull your body back to meet his hips, manhandling you and taking you as he pleased.
His grip on your wrists tightened as pulled them back to slam your ass to his hips over and over, your cunt almost sore and aching from how he used you like a toy for his pleasure.
“Yeah? Fuck, call me that again, let me know how much of a good boy I am being.” 
-
Kazuha’s gaze was always starstruck and almost drunk in love when he was staring at you as he slipped into your snug walls over and over. He was so hypnotized by you, completely allured more every second you two spent together. And he never knew he could fall even deeper until you looked at him with that sultry gaze, mouth open and making the prettiest sounds for him, and called him your good boy. Your good boy. An infatuated smile blossoming on his face, his cock pressed in deep, then he moved in a grinding motion slightly as you squirmed and mewled in pleasure. He was looking at you with heart in his eyes, completely enchanted and greedy to see more of your beauty. Nobody could ever compare or hold a candle to how beautiful you looked under him when he made love to you.
That’s right- he almost whimpers at your word as his hold on your waist tightened, immediately pressing his lips onto yours. His kiss was needy, desperate to feel you in his arms, if there was anything in this world that he couldn’t lose ever, it would undoubtedly be you. Kazuha’s heart feels like it would leap out any moment now as he rolls his hips into yours, trying his best to go sensual and slow although his patience was running thin every time your breathy moans graced his ears. His lips lowered to your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and he whispered. 
“All yours my love, all yours… Your good boy, yours…” 
-
A soft moan leaves Albedo’s mouth in pleasant surprise at the praise he hears from you. His inquisitive gaze never leaves your face, in fact his sight never seemed to focus on anything else other than your pretty expressions when he made love to you. The way your eyes fluttered shut when his tip brushes over your sensitive spot (one he knows all too well by now), the differences in your moans when he grinds into you, slowly pushes as deep as he can to drag upon your tender spot, or when he sometimes indulge his greed and slams into you harder and faster as your nails scratched into his back- all of your precious reactions are recorded in his mind like a rewound tape. 
You called him good boy- his pupils dilated visibly if you had half the mind to notice, and suddenly he was all the more determined to please you more. His mouth latched onto your nipple, one hand gripping onto your waist as he rutted inside your warm walls, pleasured groans leaving his lips while he sucked on harder. You swore sight blurred as his other hand was suddenly rubbing over your clit, circling and flicking the way he knew you moaned the prettiest for him. He knew your body better than you did by now, Albedo took silent pride in that fact. And he intended on being a good boy for you every day and night, whenever you desire him.  
- Xiao almost gets too pleasure-driven from the moment your lips are on his more sensually, from the second your touches turn suggestive. His eyes are always clouded over with lust, desire and admiration towards you, he is hardly even lucid when he finally pushes into your eager walls, he can never control himself fully once he had a taste of you- all that mattered to him was you, your moans, and your face twisting in pleasure. That’s why when you first called him your good boy, he didn’t even hear it. His one hand was pressing yours to the mattress, fingers entwined as he rammed inside needily, it felt so good, he wanted to be buried inside your snug walls forever- this insatiable lust transfers over to his actions because as much as he tries, he can’t seem to be too gentle and from the way you moan sharply each time he slams in and his cock rubs against your insides just right, Xiao couldn’t find it in him to slow down anyways.
His fingers laced with yours on one hand, indirectly holding you down in place with how with each thrust made your linked hands sink down onto the sheets, and his other holding onto your hip so tight it felt like it would bruise,. You muttered out a weak “good boy” once more- this time he heard it all too well. He groaned in pleasure at your words, at your beauty or your tight cunt he couldn’t tell, all he knew was he had to give you more, make you take more of him. His lips are on your neck and his sharp teeth sank down on the side, his lustful panting and deep moans ringing in your ear. Your wince of pain was drowned out in the high-pitched whiny moan when his claws unintentionally dug onto your hips as he forced your walls to take all of him, slamming his hips to yours desperately like he would die if he didn’t engrave the feeling of your warmth around him inside his mind. Your sweet moans always made his heart flutter, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he bit down harder on your neck, rutting into you as though to remind you that you’re all his, and he’d be your ‘good boy’ always and forever.
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sttoru · 7 months
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‘i told you once, that only two things will have me; you and death.’
☀︎|tags. gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. themes of insecurity: trust issues kinda (by reader). reader gets called ‘baby, princess, angel’. self indulgent. proof read? whats that
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“aww, there’s my hardworking girl,” satoru coos whilst his arms move to hold your body captive against his chest in a much needed hug, “and she’s still lookin’ as pretty as ever! my god — c’mere.”
your over-excited lover cups your face in his hands and holds it like that for a second to admire. his thumb slides from your cheekbone to your lips, gently parting them before pressing a deep kiss to your mouth. of course, he doesn’t leave it by that. satoru never does.
“pretty,” a kiss on your right cheek — “beautiful,” a kiss on your left one — “gorgeous,” a kiss on the tip of your nose — “amazing”, a kiss on your forehead — “sweetest,” a kiss on your chin — “lovely”, a kiss on the top of your head;
maybe it was the stress of the previous days that made you tear up. satoru has made it a daily routine: you come home, he welcomes you with open arms, showers you with his unending love and attention until you physically have to pull him away from your body. you sometimes ask yourself what you did to deserve someone so loving.
if satoru had heard you say the latter out loud, he would have kissed your mouth again to shut the thought down instantly. ‘you deserve everything and more’, you silently recall him saying once.
“stop that.” you mutter. the ‘that’ referring to the butterfly kisses and tight hugs he’s giving you. you tried not to seem in the mood for receiving his affection today. the muffled giggles leaving through your gritted teeth tell another story however.
“nu-uh,” satoru lets out a low chuckle, going right back to giving you what you deserve, “it’s like you’re askin’ me to stop breathing, baby. i can’t just not do this.”
satoru lifts you up into his strong arms and brings you over to the kitchen counter, settling you there - somewhere away from all that he had been cooking since the morning. he’s grinning from ear to ear, glancing from the covered plates near the stove and back to you.
you tilt your head curiously as you watch satoru grab one plate and uncover it, revealing the content like it was a big surprise—
“open up f’me, my princess.” your lover hums as he’s already guiding a piece of cake to your lips. your favorite cake which he had oh-so-obviously cooked himself judging by the messy look of it. your gaze lingers on the piece for a second to appreciate the gesture.
when you look back up at satoru, his eyes are already on yours — patiently waiting for you to let him feed you. his blue eyes are sparkling with a sense of pure excitement; one he only has around you. his love for you was almost overwhelming at times like these.
“why?”
the simple, one word question made the white sorcerer stop in his tracks. his head cocks to the side, eyelashes fluttering lightly in confusion, though the handsome smile on his face remains. ‘why’ could mean a lot of things in this context; why do you want to feed me? why do you want me to eat this? why should or even would i?
out of all the possible interpretations, satoru knew the exact one you had meant the moment he saw the tears that welled up at the corners of your eyes; ‘why do you care so much?’
“do i need a reason to?” his voice was smooth and soft. almost way too soft now that he’s realised just how vulnerable you were in front of him. satoru’s smile only widens, however — the sight of his girlfriend being overwhelmed by his affection was one he couldn’t resist.
it’s part of your charm. the charm you don’t know about; the charm that made the gojo satoru fall head over heels for you. your lover shakes his head with a light-hearted laugh, putting the slice of cake back down on the plate so he could hold your hands in his.
“i love you, yeah?” he kisses the back of your hands with utmost care before planting another one on your forehead again. satoru cradles your head against his chest afterwards, making you rest your weary body against his for as long as you needed it; his warmth and comfort, “it’s because i love you. that’s the only reason why, angel.”
you just nod in response — needing a moment of silence to recover, which satoru grants you without it having to be asked verbally. it’s like he knows just what goes on in your little head and is always updated about your changing feelings.
that’s what surprises you most. satoru’s super attentive to every single detail about you. from your unnoticeable habits to the big facts. that is what love truly is. that is how it feels like to have a man love you unconditionally—without any underlying or ulterior motives. without expecting anything back.
“i love you too, ‘toru. forever.” you reply eventually in a hushed whisper. the sorcerer only tightens his grip around your body, hugging you closer to his chest like his personal plushie. he nuzzles his nose into your hair — your scent both relaxing yet addicting.
“yeah,” satoru sighs in content and closes his eyes—allowing them to rest. all his senses are focused on making you feel better. he won’t let go of you until he’s sure you understand that you’re deserving of it all; his loving hugs, kisses, words of affirmation, gifts, comfort, cuddles and support.
“forever and beyond that.”
satoru doesn’t mind reminding you how much he cherishes you. even if he has to remind you every day until the day he succumbs. you’re his number one priority; he’ll even make sure to tell you he loves you with his dying breath when the time comes.
he’ll make sure of it.
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captainfern · 2 months
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You Know You're Right
Captain John Price x fem!reader
["You Know You're Right" by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - an argument with your bodyguard ends a lot differently than you anticipated lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 6.6k • warnings - fem!reader, thick girl friendly ofc, bodyguard!price, protective/jealous!price, oral [f!receiving], angry!sex but not really, he calls you a slag once i'm so sorry but he doesn't mean it i swear, unprotected (obviously) piv, reader has a breeding kink but price is like babe chill, but he also has one, so uh yeah breeding kink (obviously), reader is on contraceptives tho x, dirty talk, praise, degradation, strong language, 99% porn 1% plot • also to note: reader is a wealthy woman in the english countryside. sorry to all my american cuties but you can be a sexy british heiress for a while x
and the uniform stays on 🙏
my contribution to @glitterypirateduck price writing challenge for this month. sorry for the lack of work recently. uni's a bitch. and sorry for any mistakes lol anyway enjoy x
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
You don't know how long John Price had been your bodyguard for. You honestly couldn't recall the amount of days, weeks, months, years it had been since you had first met him.
Of course, you remember the day itself, the events, the moment you first met him. A crisp, autumnal morning with the trees around you alit with oranges and reds, and you stood on the front steps of your grand country estate as a couple of military-grade hummers pulled up in front of you.
You remember a few armed men spilling out onto your driveway, clutching M16's or AR15's or whatever the fuck they were because you weren't paying attention to them. You were paying attention to the man that followed behind them.
A man who, as the armed soldiers-of-sorts fanned out and scanned their surroundings, approached you with a warm smile that melted the early-morning chill from the air. With deep eyes that heated you more than the fuzzy housecoat you had bundled around you.
He offered his hand, and you shook it. His hand was warm too.
And the way he spoke– oh fuck, his voice. Flint striking steel and fire crackling from it's spark. A smoker. A man who, all so suddenly, sounded much too experienced to be the bodyguard of a wealthy woman in the English countryside.
"John Price," he had introduced. "S'a pleasure, miss."
You then smiled politely in return and introduced with your name. He chuckled lightly, commenting something along the lines of oh, I know who you are, miss which made your body grow even warmer.
You had looked up, ignoring the fact he was still holding your hand gently in his, and gestured to the three young men who were pacing around the front of your house, weapons drawn. "Will these gentlemen be staying with you for the entirety of your stay?"
He shook his head ruefully. "No, miss. They'll be gone within the hour. Just ensuring they know their way 'round in case they need to get here in a hurry."
You looked back down at him, arching a brow and finally removing your hand from his. He dropped his arm with a clearing of his throat, bringing his hands up to clutch the top of his vest.
"Will they need to get here in a hurry?" You challenged, almost jokingly, but John saw no joke. A joke about your safety is no joke he'd dear indulge in.
"No," he said sternly and quite quickly, you remember. "But it's just precautions. No, don't you worry, sweetheart. You're in safe hands. I assure you that."
Sweetheart.
Perhaps you remember the first meeting with John Price because it was the very first time he referred to you in such a way. Sweetheart. Now, a little over a year later, he still refers to you as such, but also–
"Morning, love. Sleep well?" He'd ask when you emerge from your bedroom in the morning.
Or,
"There she is. Rough night, pet?" He'd quip when you finally decide to show yourself about late-afternoon after a night out with your friends.
Or even,
"Need a hand with that, darling?" He'd offer when you found yourself struggling to carry the many shopping bags through the door.
Oftentimes, the way he spoke to you, the way he referred to you, was like you two had been married for years. And it wasn't only the way he spoke to you that had you going to bed giggling and kicking your feet like a girl with a crush.
Lingering touches and long hugs and kisses to the top of your head. John was always so warm and welcoming. His presence crackled like a fire in winter, lulling you to sleep or to a state of comfortability. If it was any other man, you wondered if you'd be weirded out by the closeness of him– but because it was John, everything just felt... right.
Riding horses in the springtime, and he'd assist you into the saddle with big hands running down your sides and legs, settling you onto your sturdy steed with a squeeze to your knee. He'd ride on a seperate horse if you wanted to canter through the forest; or he'd walk alongside yours if you were only taking a lazy stroll across the pastures.
Swimming in the summertime, and he'd smooth oils across your exposed skin. You'd revel in the way his large palms moved against you, such a strong man being so incredibly gentle. He'd watch you swim, his eyes occasionally darting up and around, before settling back on you again. He always declined to join you, angling that silly little boonie hat of his over his eyes to shield the sun's rays.
Keeping you warm in the wintertime, letting you snuggle up beneath furs and blankets on your couch while he chopped firewood outside, bringing the axe down again and again until he had enough kindling to keep the fire running for days to come. You'd watch him work up a sweat, muscles stretching and contracting beneath his shirt. Your entire body would flush with warmth.
But sometimes... sometimes the two of you didn't get along so well. And it wasn't your fault, you didn't think. You honestly found Captain John Price so confusing at times, especially now that the two of you had known each other for quite some time.
Partying with your friends, and you'd attract the attention of some poor man who didn't know what he was getting himself into. He'd smile at you, offer you drinks or a smoke or whatever you wanted, his hands beginning to wander as the music seemed to grow louder and louder and the colours around you blurred together. You'd laugh and dance and sing with your friends, this man actively engaging with you and–
It never lasted.
Price would swoop in. Sometimes before the stranger could offer you a drink, sometimes after. Sometimes the man never got the chance to even speak to you, with your bodyguard planting himself firmly in front of you and blocking your would-be pursuer.
You were never one to complain. After all, it was his job to protect you. But you didn't like when, after getting home in the early hours of the morning, he would roughly escort you to your room, ensure you wouldn't be sick, then leave without another word.
He'd be better by the morning.
And this became a cycle. A cycle of trying to combat the winds of a hurricane. Impossible, really. You just had to brace yourself.
But you were sick of bracing yourself. You were sick of getting fucking cock-blocked by your ex-military bodyguard. You were an absolutely gorgeous, rich woman living on her own in the countryside, and you fucking deserved to find someone. You, frankly, deserved to get fucked.
"I'm going out tonight," you told Price as you emerged from your bedroom. You were already dressed, looking impeccable as always.
Price lounged in one of the chaises positioned in the hallway outside your bedroom. He glanced up from his phone, glanced back down, and then did a double take. His eyes shot up again and he immediately pocketed his phone as he got to his feet, knees cracking with the speed of it all.
"I– you said you were just going out for a few drinks with friends?" He countered, eyes skimming up and down your frame. But not for any longer than a second, you don't think. Forever the gentleman, his eyes honed in on your face, his gaze already beginning to melt the icy facade you'd put in place.
But you steeled your nerves.
"I am," you said with a smile.
"You're going into the city? I'll have to organise a driver–" Price began, but you cut him off with a shake of your head. You didn't live too far from the main city, but it was still a significant drive for simply a few drinks.
"No, no, we're just popping into town," you said, referring to the small, quaint town less than five down the road. "Having a few drinks at the pub. Nothing big."
You and your friends were regulars at the pub. And John frowned. He knew that the other regulars– a group of men you'd become familiar with– would also be there.
You clocked his frown and your smile grew. "What's the matter, John? Am... Am I not allowed to go?"
He huffed. "No, you can go, but just let me–"
"Oh, no need," you said with a batter of your eyelashes. You told him you'd organise your own driver. "And you don't need to come. I'll only be a couple of hours."
John's jaw tensed, and you could see the muscles moving beneath his facial hair.
"No," he said firmly. "I'm coming."
Your smile faltered. "No, you're not. I'm fine, John. Have a break. If it makes you feel any better, I'll be back before midnight–"
"That doesn't make me feel better," John growled. "I... I have no problem with you going out, but I need to come with you. I– I am coming with you, end of story."
Your smile had disappeared completely now. You then looked him up and down. He was dressed how he usually did, even around the house. A suit complete with the trousers and white dress-shirt. But he wore his kevlar vest over top, and with a belt stocked with a couple of sidearms and ammunition, he didn't exactly look inconspicuous. At least he wasn't wearing his boonie hat.
"Price..." You began. "Please, just... I'll be fine, okay? Can you just let me do something on my own–?"
"No."
You frowned. "John–"
"It's my job to protect you, is it not?" He cocked his head, daring you to challenge him. "You hired me to protect you. You pay me to keep an eye on you since there are a couple of real fuckwits out there that would want to hurt you, right? So why the fuck would I let you leave here alone?"
He took a step forward, opening his arms in a gesture of so?
Your frown deepened. "I deserve some privacy, you know. I appreciate that you look out for me, but I want to be able to enjoy myself in public without..."
John waited, but urged a mocking, "Without...?"
You scoffed. "Without you hovering over me. I just want to... enjoy myself, okay? I want to meet people–"
"Oh," John suddenly said, and his tone was less of realisation, more of discovery. "I see."
You scowled. "What?"
"You want to get fucked, is that it?"
Your mouth dropped open. "I–"
"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart. It's okay," he tutted, shaking his head as you stood there, embarrassment suddenly festering in the pit of your stomach, as he appraised you like you were a whole new person. He sighed. "You want me gone so I don't stop the lads from flocking to you. Is that it? You want me to let you go out on your own so you can get one of those boys to fuck you?"
The shame in your stomach, pulling and pushing at your conscious, fizzled out and was instead replaced by a new flame of self-determination. You took a step closer to your bodyguard and jabbed a finger into the taut material of his tac vest.
"You have no right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, got it? I can do what the fuck I want. I'm a grown woman, Price," you seethed. "Secondly, yeah, I might just get one of the guys at the pub to fuck me. I bet they would, you know. I bet he'd bend me over his knee and–"
"Stop talking," John rolled his eyes, and the gesture made you a whole lot angrier. But he continued before you could say anything else. "You're not going. You can throw a fit if that's what you want, but you're not going."
Throw a fit. You wanted to slap him for that. But you didn't. Even though you were growing angrier and angrier at the man before you, there was something inside your brain that prevented you from going that far. Maybe it was the fact that... seeing him so protective of you... made you feel...
You shook your head to send the thoughts away. You're meant to be angry at him, babe.
"Fuck you," you spat, since those were the only words that managed to come to the forefront of your mind.
He grunted. "Yeah, I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you? Just a needy fuckin' slag looking for a quick fuck–"
You raised your hand to slap him. You wanted to strike your palm across his handsome face. A slag? Who the fuck does he think he is–
Price grabbed hold of your wrist before you got within inches of his cheek. And, quickly, you realised you'd made a huge mistake.
In seconds, he had your soft body pinned against the wall beside your bedroom door. He pinned you there with his body, hard and firm against yours, one large hand holding your wrist and nailing it to the wall, while the other grabbed your other wrist and held it by your side.
His face was close to yours. You could smell him. Rich oud, the warmth of some sort of spice note, expensive tobacco–
Your core fluttered.
Oh, fuck off–
Price shoved a knee between your legs, parting them and forcing a yelp from your throat at the way he dragged himself impossibly closer. The taut muscle of his thigh beneath you made you scream within your head, silently begging that the warmth of your clothed cunt didn't give anything away because-
You were fucked.
Fucked off, yes. Angry at him, yes.
But he was also turning you on in a way that no man has ever done before.
"D'you want'a try that again?" He whispered, the words ghosting across the heated skin of your face.
When you didn't respond right away, he pushed his knee up higher, shifting his hips closer to yours, humming out an impatient, "Hm?"
You shook your head.
"Didn't think so."
You frowned. "You're such an arsehole."
"I know," he said, words hushed. "But you fucking love it, don't you?"
The both of you paused. Breathing jaggedly, you looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, a storm passing between the two of you, complete with the crackling of thunder. You could feel him breathing against you, and you willed yourself not to look down at where your bodies were flushed together. Instead, you remained calm.
You watched the way his eyes darted across your face. How they lingered on the curves of your cheeks, or the part between your lips. His eyes scanned over your nose, your eyes, your everything. You could almost hear his brain trying to keep up.
You could feel your core growing warmer and warmer, arousal pooling and no doubt tangible. Without a doubt he could feel it against the material of his trousers, soaking through to his thigh. It was already drenching your underwear, and probably ruining his suit.
God, you loved him in a suit.
"What are you waiting for?" You whispered your challenge, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat between you.
Price groaned and he released his hold on your wrists. Instead, he grabbed the fat just above your hip in one hand and wrapped the other around your jaw, before he was pushing forward and slamming his mouth to yours.
•º•º•
John Price didn't know how long it had been since he fell in love with you. He honestly couldn't recall the number of days, weeks, months, years it had been since the moment he first saw you.
But of course he remembers what the day was like– how beautiful and welcoming and soft you looked, bundled in your expensive housecoat with a sliver of your leg exposed to the chilly autumn breeze. He remembers the bright smile, tired but bright, you had offered him as he walked up to you and extended his hand. He remembers the way your hand felt within his, and how he didn't want to let go.
He remembers how his heart lurched in his chest when you introduced yourself, and he recalls feeling nothing but sincerity for the fact a pretty woman like you needed to be protected by someone like him. Oh, but how gorgeous you looked when you thanked him for his service. The almost-guiltiness didn't last for long.
You were always so sweet to him. Even when he put you in your place, told you what you could and couldn't do for your own safety. You were constantly being kind to him. Respectful and polite and understanding.
You were such a good girl.
And as the days passed, as they blurred into weeks and months and finally a year-ish together, you got all the more sweeter. But–
But you now knew him. You knew what made him tick. You knew exactly what to do to get your way. Saunter through your home with a pretty, coy smile and a soft hand on his bicep and of course, sweetheart, we can go into the city today. Or a well-cooked meal of his favourite food, paired with a pint if you really wanted to get into his good books, and okay then, love, I'll call your driver to take us.
You knew how to deal with him. And he let you, of course.
But as the months went by, Price couldn't help but grow resentful. His pretty girl, being chatted up by some absolute mingers in a big-city nightclub. Or maybe even the village idiots down at the local pub. How dare they?
He found himself growing more annoyed that they approached you, instead of worried that they could cause you harm. Sure, they were still a threat, and Price was doing his job. But also, also, they were encroaching on what was his. What belonged to him.
His good girl.
And he supposed he should have seen this coming– an argument bubbling up and over about it all. About how he was always there when you just wanted to socialise and have a good time. How he was always turning guys away from you. It wasn't fear, and John understood that. But he was firm in his thinking– you were his.
Oh fuck, you even looked gorgeous when you were angry at him. When you were spitting and hissing like a feral cat, and even with your claws unsheathed and swinging right towards his face, he found you to be the most ethereal being on the planet.
His pretty girl.
He didn't mean to call you a slag. Of course he didn't mean it. His anger conjuring into stupid fucking words that he couldn't keep hidden in his head. And even then his anger wasn't to you, but to the local fuckwits who haunted the village pub in the hopes of spending time with you.
Delusional cunts.
When John caught your wrist and pinned you to the wall outside your bedroom, he didn't mean to escalate things. He was angry at himself, angry for saying such filth to you. But then–
But then he felt it. His heart hammering wildly against his ribcage and your chest rising and falling rapidly. He felt the way you squirmed against him, how you arched off the wall and how your barely clothed pussy seemed to throb against the muscle of his thigh. He could feel your warmth through his trousers, feel your need.
His needy girl.
And he was more than happy to indulge you. Hell, he was more than happy to indulge himself.
•º•º•
John's mouth on yours was hot. Liquid heat passing between you, sparks flying as he pulled you closer by the hand on your jaw. He split your lips with his tongue, pushing inside with just as much strength as you anticipated. His lips against yours smeared your gloss, sticky and sweet, mixing with the spit that threatened to drip as he licked into your mouth again and again, chasing the taste of you.
You moaned into it, eyes shut and hands wrapping around his neck. Fingers delved into his hair, tugging and pulling and angling his head to get yourself closer. He groaned in response, pushing his pelvis closer to yours, and you could feel him growing in his suit trousers.
Then, you began to move. You followed him blindly, your eyes still closed as you attempted to keep up with the languid rhythm of his tongue. He licked at your teeth, your tongue, your lips, committing your taste to memory.
You'd never been kissed like this before.
You were walking backwards, guided by Price's large hands. He had two hands on your waist now, holding you flush to him as he slowly edged you back, back, back until the backs of your legs bumped into something. Your bed.
You broke the kiss, surprised, and turned your head to the side to see that yeah, he'd navigated you both back into the warm, lovely-smelling oasis of your bedroom. As you looked to the side, your bodyguard continued his mission, dragging his lips along your jaw and then latching his mouth onto your neck.
He groaned, tasting more of you. He'd imagined what you'd taste like, imagined the saltiness of your skin his lips. He now knew what your mouth tasted like. All was left now was–
John forced himself away, grumbling to himself and gently pushing you back onto the bed and into a sitting position. You smiled up at him, and he shifted to stand between your parted legs, cupping your face in two hands. He bent down to place one last kiss to your lips, before slowly– with cracking knees and a shallow grunt of effort– he lowered himself to his knees.
His hands dragged down your body. They rolled over your shoulders and arms, skimming lightly over the curves of your breasts and stomach, running over the fat of your hips and thighs. When his knees hit the, thankfully carpeted, floor, he gripped your knees and gave you a couple of comforting squeezes.
"Alright, sweetheart?" He asked, voice husky and full of yen– desire and longing mirrored in his eyes.
His eyes on you, his hands dragged back up your thighs and to where your skirt sat bunched a few inches below your hips. He pinched the fabric, toying with it while waiting for your response.
You nodded at him. "M'alright."
"Can..." He dropped his eyes for just a second to look at your skirt, before raising them again. "Can I take this off, please?"
You nodded again, followed by a whispered yes, please. You then raised your hips for him to pull the fabric down and away from you, shuffling back to rip it down your legs and fling it across the room. You giggled at his enthusiasm as he returned to his original position.
Price groaned low in his throat and leaned forward, holding your thighs apart. Your underwear still on, he pressed his face against you, his beard tickling the softest part of your inner thighs. His nose pressed onto your clit, his lips placing a kiss to your clothed core. This forced a moan from your throat, and you gripped your duvet for some kind of stability.
He kissed at the patch of arousal that had bled through during your altercation in the hallway, his nose nudging against your clit as he decided to swipe his tongue against you. He groaned and you keened, a high pitched mewl, your legs twitching either side of his head.
"Pretty girl..." He whispered, the rumble hitting your clit and making you mewl out again.
He kissed at your clothed cunt again, tongue smoothing along the thin cotton fabric until the entire area was wet with his spit and your arousal. Your legs twitched beside him, pleasure sitting fuzzy in the base of your tummy, and you wondered– no, you knew that he could probably make you come in your fucking underwear.
But he didn't. Whether you were thankful for that or not, you weren't entirely sure. But he eventually, and rather torturously, pulled away for long enough to pull your underwear down your legs. He let it fling from your ankles, not caring where it landed, before he was pushing back between your legs once more.
This time, he licked a fat stripe up your cunt before latching his mouth to your clit and sucking. You cried out, a hand shooting down to grab hold of his hair, fisting it tightly as he laved his tongue over you. His mouth was hot, burning at your core, but your body had now been set alight– the flame of pleasure coursing through your veins, heating your body. Your legs trembled now, thighs flexing either side of his head, his facial hair scratching and tickling you all at once.
John's movements were quick. Quicker than you expected. He seemed desperate for it as he licked back down your cunt and stuffed his tongue into your hole– in and out, in and out– before curling and repeating the process. You moaned at his well-timed movements, never leaving you dissatisfied or overstimulated in the slightest. Price was amazing.
He kneaded the fat of your thighs as he ate you out, enjoying the softness of you around his head. His cock was hard and leaking in his trousers, and one of the reasons he wanted you to quickly come on his tongue was so that he didn't bust a fat load in his fucking briefs. He couldn't handle that today. Not when he'd been waiting so long to have you.
"John," you moaned, stretching the syllables. Your hips bucked, his nose catching your puffy clit. You ground against him, moans bubbling from your throat as you tossed your head back. You rode his face, locking your ankles together at his back and anchoring yourself with one hand on the bed and the other in his hair.
He moaned in response, eyes on the way your body writhed above him. He loved the way you bucked up, wriggling in search of your coming high. Fuck, you looked gorgeous.
John screwed his eyes shut and focused on curling his tongue in and out of your sopping hole. He felt his cock twitch. If he looked at you again, he was sure he'd come.
You moaned sweetly above him, orgasm building tight in the base of your tummy. You continued rocking your hips, the mattress creaking quietly beneath you. But the sounds from your mouth, coupled with the wetness of Price's mouth on your pussy, was all that rang true in your ears.
"John, fuck– oh fuck, please–" You mewled, edging on a whine. Desperation was creeping in. You hurtled towards your high.
Then, you felt deep vibrations rock through your core (unbeknownst to you, John had mumbled a that's it, come for me, baby against your hole). The band of pleasure inside you snapped, and with one last push of your cunt into his face, you came.
You moaned John's name, head still tossed back as pleasure fizzled through you. Your thighs clamped down on either side of his head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you came on his tongue. John happily buried himself deeper into your heat, tongue licking you slowly through your orgasm.
He had looked up, chanced it, and watched you come. He managed to hold on and not come in his briefs, but he could feel the front of them growing tacky with his precum.
A few moments later, ensuring your orgasm had been well wrung from your beautiful body, John withdrew from your cunt. He unbound himself from your legs and got to his feet as you blinked up at him, dazed and fuzzy.
"Feeling good, sweetheart?" John asked, gently and carefully guiding you further up the bed. You crawled with him until your head hit the pillows at the top of the bed and John knelt between your legs, his hands rubbing circles over your bare thighs.
"Yeah... good..." You replied lazily, eyes dropping down to where you could see John's cock straining in his trousers. The sight made you moan, and you attempted to sat up, but Price stopped you.
"Hold on, sweetheart..." He murmured, placing a kiss to the top of your head before helping you out of your top. In companionable silence, he discarded the garment and went to work unclipping your bra, letting your breasts spill out as he discarded that too.
He groaned, happily to himself, reaching forward to roll one of your pebbling nipples between his fingers, his other hand groping the opposite breast.
"Fuckin' beautiful..." He muttered, and then leaned forward to kiss you.
You tasted yourself on him as he guided you back down. A soft tang, a subtle sweetness in his saliva. You moaned, fingers once again moving to card through his hair and stroke the back of his neck, just above his shirt collar.
While you kissed, Price slipped one hand between you and unbuckled his belt. He let the belt hang open while he deftly unbuttoned his trousers and peeled them open just enough for him to reach into his briefs and pull his cock out. He hissed into the kiss, his hand on his own achingly hard cock causing pre to dribble down his shaft.
"Fuck..." He muttered into your mouth, and you pulled back, shifting to look between you. The image of your bodyguard still dressed in his uniform, but with his thick cock hanging out, was a sight to behold. You moaned, hips bucking involuntarily, the heat of your cunt coming within centimetres of the head of his cock.
Price moaned loudly, immediately dropping his hand to fist the base of himself while positioning his hips against yours. He ran the leaking tip, ruddy and flushed red from his arousal, through your soaked folds. At the same time, you both moaned.
"Oh my god," you breathed, still looking down. Price, eyes on your cunt, continued to smear pre along your slit, running his cockhead up and down, revelling in the way your arousal leaked around him.
"S'alright, pretty girl..." He uttered, not looking up from where he circled his tip around your hole. "S'alright... I'll make you feel good. I'll make you feel good." Then, he finally looked up, eyes boring into yours. You felt your stomach flip as he smiled warmly. "That's what you need, isn't it, sweetheart?"
His words dripped mirth. You whined, knowing where he was going with this.
"Just so desperate for some cock, s'that it? S'that what's got you all riled up?" John poked fun at you, referencing your argument beforehand.
You gave in and nodded, shifting your hips and catching the tip of his cock against your entrance. It made both you and Price release sounds of pleasure, but he held strong, gripping himself at the base and pulling his cock away an inch.
"Use your words," he instructed, voice husky, ash-laced. "Use your fucking words, love. Tell me how desperate you are for my cock. How much of a fucking whore you are for it."
The unexpected degradation punched a moan from your lungs. You babbled, "Y-yeah, fuck– need your cock so bad, John, please."
"Yeah?" Price teased, running the head of his cock up and down your folds again. "You need this cock?"
He pushed the head of his cock into your hole, and you moaned, arching your back. But he stopped there, the flared tip of him laying dormant inside. Your cunt fluttered around him, arousal leaking down the curve of your arse. You whimpered, attempting to push your lips down onto him, but a firm swat to your thigh had you pausing in place.
"S'this the cock you need?" Price asked, voice dark. "Or 're you wanting t'get fucked by some stranger? Want one of the lads down at the pub to fuck this tight cunt? Eh, sweetheart? That's right, isn't it? Actin' like a fuckin' slut lookin' for a quick fuck–"
"No, no, no, please–" You said quickly, trying not to get distracted by the way Price's accent was strengthening as your cunt fluttered around his cockhead. "S'only you! Need you, John, please. Only need you 'n– fuck, only need your cock."
Price growled, pleased, having itched that jealous spot inside him. That's right, that's what he wanted to hear.
His good girl.
"That's fuckin' right, baby. Good girl–" John pulled out and then pushed back in, slowly parting your walls for the girth of his cock. You moaned and he leaned forward to kiss you, being as gentle as he could while splitting you open. He murmured against your lips, "That's a good girl. Yeah, that's it, sweetheart. Doin' so well..."
The buckle of his belt clinked as John picked up his thrusts, stretching you apart on his cock. You could feel the bunched fabric of his trousers and briefs against you with each of his thrusts, and when he curled over you to kiss you, the feeling of his dress shirt and tac vest against your bare chest had a shiver rippling through you.
He kissed you hard, just as he had done in the hallway. This time, a bit of saliva did escape your mouth, rolling from the corner as you parted your mouth to moan, Price's tongue licking over your lower lip as the head of his cock punched up against the base of your cervix.
Just like everything else about him, the sex was hot. Price radiated warmth. The space between your bodies was heating up, and you could feel the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. Beneath his beard, Price's cheeks began to burn read, a bead of sweat trickling from his hairline. His hips moved quickly, but with precision, shunting you deeper and deeper into the mattress, making it squeak and groan.
His cock hit all the right places, too. Your walls hugged him, tight and hot and wet as he plunged up against your womb. John could feel you squeezing him. Feel the sheer hold you had on him, physically and otherwise. He grunted and groaned to himself, his balls already beginning to tighten, his lower back starting to strain from the effort.
"John..." You whined, second orgasm already fast approaching. You felt yourself beginning to tighten up again, your muscles pulling taut as the band of pleasure in the base of your abdomen began to expand. The drive of Price's cock was pulling it further and further. You were so close.
And when you were this close, John always seemed to know what to say and do to push you off the precipice.
Expertly, your bodyguard moved his arm downwards to press a couple of fingers to your puffy clit, rolling it beneath with a gentle stroke. He drew gentle circles that made you spasm beneath him, a panting moan filtering from your parted, spit-covered lips.
He continued the drive of his hips, cock hitting the best spot inside you. Bursts of light, of pleasure, appeared behind your fluttering eyelids, the intensity of it all making it hard for you to keep your eyes open. But you did– you forced your eyes open, lids drooping. You locked eyes with Price, and he smiled down at you in a way that was probably meant to be comforting, but it only turned you on more.
"My sweet girl, just look at you," Price cooed, still slamming into you. "So gorgeous. Such a pretty girl, an' you look even prettier getting stuffed with my cock, don't you?"
You nodded, delirious now. You wanted nothing more than for him to come inside you and–
The thought made you moan loudly.
He chuckled. "S'that right?"
"John, fuck–" you moaned out. "Fuck, please–"
Come inside me, you wanted to beg him, but the tip of his cock at the plug of your womb and his fingers on your clit had your vision whiting out as the band in your stomach snapped again.
You came hard. Legs locked around his waist, the fat of your thighs and stomach rippling with his strong movements, you came. Arousal gushed out around his cock, the sensation forcing an unexpected whimper from you. The slick walls of your cunt clutched the girth of him, squeezing with each fluttering pulse of your erratic heartbeat. Fuzzy pleasure washed over you and, just like with his mouth, he stroked your clit through your orgasm and stopped right at the brink of overstimulation.
But you gained no mercy after coming.
John redoubled his efforts. With two strong arms either side of you, he rutted into you with renewed energy, now chasing his own high. His balls, almost painful at this point, smacked against the plush curve of your arse, with the head of his cock leaking inside you.
Oh fuck, he wasn't wearing a condom.
He knew you were on contraceptives. Of course. He knew almost everything about you now. But the thought–
"John–!" You all but sobbed, wriggling beneath him, becoming impatient. Not because you wanted it to end, but because you wanted him to end inside you. "John, please come inside me."
"Fucking hell," he grit out between clenched teeth, teetering on the edge of collapse.
Stuffing you full of him. Coming right up against your cervix, flooding your womb. Filling you out, watching you grow fat with his kid. Laying claim to you, how you were truly his. His pretty girl. His good girl.
Not today.
But the thought alone had Price coming.
"F-fuck, take it, sweetheart, jus'– fuckin good girl, take my cum, baby–" Price muttered, pumping his hips as he came. He filled you with the same kind of warmth he radiated. Comfort and security, maybe.
You moaned quietly once Price'd emptied himself inside of you, and you relaxed your legs so he could flop to the side. Cock still inside you, softening just a bit, Price curled you into him, his face resting in the crook of your neck, your legs entangled.
The two of you caught your breaths, breathing in each other's scent and the pungency of sex. Your eyes opened and closed lazily, the heat of Price's body lulling you to sleep. But you forced your eyes open when Price pulled back– only to change positions. His suit rustled as he pulled you in against him, and you wished you could run your fingers through the hair on his toned chest.
After a little while, you felt Price kiss the top of your head.
"Feeling alright, love?" He asked, and the sincerity in his voice had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Yeah," you replied. "More than alright. I... thank you."
"Thank you," Price said, nuzzling into the top of your head.
•º•º•
The two of you basked in each others company for what seemed like hours before a buzzing broke the haze of whatever dream you were living. Peeling yourself away from Price for a moment, you reached over to your discarded purse and fished your phone out, finding it alight with missed calls and messages from your friends.
You almost felt guiltly.
"Cancel," John grumbled below you, seemingly already knowing what you were looking at. "You're not going out tonight, are you?"
"No, 'm not feeling up to it," you said, smiling.
John, burying himself into the crook of your neck once more, arms wrapped securely around you, smiled too.
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
this was the first long-ish fic i've written in a while so forgive me if it wasn't my usual best lolol. anyway thank you for reading and make sure to go check out the other @glitterypirateduck submissions for this writing challenge
lots of luv <3
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jujutsusimp · 9 days
Text
More than a weapon
🌸Gojo notices some change in his body due to his domesticated life with you and you love it.
Truly this is just a some self indulging fluff and cheesy romance but I needed it.
Content: Gojo x fem!reader, fluff, Gojo being insecure
“I really let myself go huh?”
You peek your head out of the book you are reading on the bed, watching Satoru look himself in the bedroom mirror, pinching a tiny bit of belly fat on his lower abdomen. This man is still carved like a Greek god, but finally, he has something more than muscles and skin.
“I will need to work on that,"  he muses absentmindedly, which makes you frown and answer instinctively: “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He raises an amused eyebrow at your intense declaration, looking at you with a teasing smile. “You like this, Babe?”, he demands with a chuckle while you let go of your book, getting up to embrace him. He doesn’t resist when you wrap your arms around him, burying your head in his chest.
"Yes, I do”, you state firmly with a pout, tightening your grip almost protectively.
“Yeah?”, he insists with a smile in his voice while he gently pets your hair.
“Yes…”, you assert, inhaling his scent, his odor is still discernible despite the flowery perfume of your soap. He always washes with your soap, and you love that. “I am working very hard for this, you know...”
He laughs, and you feel his chest vibrating against your face. “Are you trying to fatten me, my love?”, he says with a teasing voice.
“Not particularly”, you answer softly, feeling some kind of happy melancholia, “but this little belly, it’s proof of all the time you stayed hugging me on the bed instead of exercising...”, you start, peppering his rock hard abs with kisses. “… of all the time you stayed watching a movie with me instead of babysitting the whole sorcery world…” In your eyes, his body being slightly more relaxed is proof of your years of domesticated life together, and you cherish it.
You breathe deeply, digging a bit more your fingers in his back, noticing his hands had stopped petting you. In fact, he is really quiet, which is abnormal for him, and you raise your head to look at him. He appears so vulnerable right now that you feel your heart drop.
“I am allowed?”, his voice is barely a whisper, carrying so much emotions. So much fragility. You wished you had the strength to hug him harder. You wish you weren’t so small and you could shield him in your arms like he does with you. “Yes, yes you are, my love, of course you are. You are allowed to live for yourself… to let yourself go”, you affirm, echoing his first words.
“There are a lot of people counting on me, you know…”
You pout at his protestation, finally letting go of his torso to grab his cheeks. “I know, I am not telling you to stop saving the world, just that your whole life doesn’t have to revolve around your work.”
He seems deep in thought, hesitant, and you cut all further protestation by getting on your toes to plant a kiss on his face, until he is the one lifting you so he can kiss you back, loosing himself on your lips with a tranquil passion. There is no hurry in this kiss, just prolonged contact and devoted tenderness until he withdraws his head to contemplate you, his hands still grabbing you by the waist and upper thighs. There is so much love in those blue eyes, but also some doubts lingering.
“What are you worrying about, love?”, you ask softly, knowing he is still tormented. He looks confused, mumbling a bit as he thinks about it seriously for a moment. You don’t press him, caressing his hair gently in a soothing motion. Only an indecent amount of patience and love can make a man like him voice his insecurities.
“Useless… I don’t want to become useless.”, he finally admits lifting you a bit higher so he can bury his face on your chest and hide how troubled he looks right now.
He didn’t say powerless, or weak. He said “useless”. You contemplate his words for a second before kissing the top of his head affectionately. You still have a lot of work to do.
“You are not a weapon Satoru Gojo, you are a person, my lover, an incredible teacher, and a funny and passionate man. You don’t have to be useful, you have so much more to bring to the world than muscles and powers.”
You feel his grip tightening a bit on your body, almost painfully, but you don’t mind, closing your eyes while you dig your fingers into his hair.
“I don’t care if you don’t believe me yet, I will just repeat it until you know you are enough, you are wanted, you are loved strongest or not.” You hammered with an unwavering voice, holding all your stubborness for things that truly matter.
“Alright, alright”, he finally relents, his emotions vibrating in his voice but coated with sweetness. You look down at him, watching him lift his eyes out of your chest. “I believe you”
You smile proudly, borrowing his signature cocky smirk, which makes him smile fondly in return. Still holding you with one hand, he removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you with love. “I guess as long as I am strong enough to do that, it’s okay.”
You lift an eyebrow at his mischievous grin forming behind the tenderness. “Do what?”
Before you finish your sentence, he is making you twirl in the air into his arms, and you gasp, clinging at his hair to not fall with a delighted chuckle he soon echoes.
Yes, it was more than enough.
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peachesofteal · 23 days
Text
Cool Girl
Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist
Your hand is shaking again.
It’s a defense mechanism or something, you think. Some physical manifestation of your anxiety. Something psychological, you’re sure of it.
It’s the only thing you’re sure of, if you’re being honest.
You stalk home as fast as you can, scowl affixed to your face like it’s been cemented there, seeping deep into your frown lines, etching them like a chisel on marble.
The walk sobers you. Brings you back to rational sense, little by little.
You shouldn’t have called them. You’re so dumb. You’re asking for trouble.
But is it so bad, to want to cause an emotional reaction? To want them to be as miserable as you?
It’s pathetic. A way to seek validation. A mistake.
One you’re sure you’re going to pay for.
Your front door is unlocked.
The door pushes open nearly on its own, and your eyes struggle to adjust in the pitch black of your hallway. No light from the street spills from the living room, which means the drapes have been drawn closed.
Your heart leaps into your ears, pounding between your temples at a frenzied pace.
It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s probably them.
What if it’s not? Do you have a weapon? A way to defend yourself? You find your pepper spray in your bag, readying it between trembling fingers.
“Hello?” You call.
Nothing.
“Hello… if you’re in my flat, you better-“ a firm hand grips back of your neck, like a viper assaulting its prey, and you scream.
“It’s me.” Simon murmurs into your hair, touching over your pulse. “Jus’ me.”
“You scared the shit out of me,” you twist out of his grip, fumbling for the lights.
When they flick on, you blink a few times to adjust.
He’s a sight for sore eyes in joggers, a black sweatshirt, black hat.
His eyes burn. They scald you, roving from top to toe, his mouth sealed in a scowl. “Have a nice night, sweetheart?”
You gulp. “I- I did.”
“Thought you were clever with that phone call?”
“I… I didn’t think-“
“You didn’t.” He cuts you off, and then points to living room. “Go sit on the couch.” Your hand trembles against your chest, and you hang your head.
Got the attention you wanted?
“Where’s Johnny?” You whisper as he takes the seat next to you, massive shoulders turning so he can peer downwards.
“Decided this was better to handle on my own.” Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.
“Oh.” Simon takes a deep breath, eyeing your shaking hand, and then shakes his head. You can’t read it, can’t ever read him, and you wait with breath frozen in your lungs, wait for him to say something, anything.
But what comes next, is not what you expected.
“Johnny’s in love with you.” You jerk back, eyebrows raised into your hairline.
“No.” Your voice trembles. “No, this… this is casual.”
“It is.” Simon’s lips press flat. “The girl at the hotel, she was a job. Had nothin’ to do with our… personal lives. She was a loose end to tie up when we got back. It was convenient, that she lived in our city.” Your mind tumbles and falls, your sense dives off a cliff.
Johnny’s in love with you.
“I don’t understand… you, after-“
“I let you believe it.” He says simply, looking down his nose at you. He’s never looked so cold. “At first, I wanted to explain, to correct it, for his sake, but… the opportunity was too good. So I told Johnny that you reminded me of our arrangement. That you agreed, that you always said you didn’t want a relationship. The situation at the bar with your date,” he smiles self indulgently “that was just for fun. Would’ve fucked ya right up against that door for the whole bar to see if you let us. Split that pretty pussy open on my cock and watch you gag on Johnny’s, but you still wanted to be a brat,” he rolls his eyes, “it was all a distraction I built for him.”
Alarm bells blare inside your skull, Johnny’s words from the other day when he brought the flowers repeating over and over.
“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“
“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.”
“No- no. He… he came here, he made it sound-“
Simon studies you. “He’s explosive, sometimes. Doesn’t handle his emotions well, gets all twisted up. I think when he came over here, he wanted you to tell him you wanted more,” he sighs, rubs his chin. “He’s so out of sorts over it all, poor boy.”
“Why? Why didn’t you… why didn’t you tell him the truth? Or me?” His lips curl into a sneer.
“Because Johnny is mine. I might share his body with you, sweet girl, but I won’t share his heart.”
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gglitch1dd · 3 months
Note
Ever think about how horny reader is for Deku while she’s pregnant? I’m talking bout a wild beast. Before the pregnancy her sex drive was average but now she just can’t keep her hands to herself.
All she wants to do is have her big husband fuck her while she’s carrying their child, shocking Deku but he indulges her no matter how many rounds she wants and how tired he gets he just wants to spoil his wife during her pregnancy to keep her happy.
A/N: I love love LOVED this prompt. Honey I don't just think this, it lives in my head daily. Please!! I love prompts like this, keep them coming for Izuku (or Eijiro).
I can't help it
Husband Midoriya Izuku X Wifey Reader
Tumblr media
Warning: PREGNANCY, Pregnant reader, breeding kink, hypersexual Y/N, SMUT, Squirting, multiple orgasms.
When you had figured out that you were pregnant, you were the happiest you had ever been in a long time. You and your husband had always wanted a little bundle of joy for yourselves and the fact that it happened for the both of you was a blessing you couldn’t take for granted. It was a magical and beautiful time, and one held in great secrecy too. The both of you didn’t tell the public at all nor did you tell any of your close friends until a good three months into your pregnancy.
Honestly, once you got past the morning sickness and feeling rather icky, you were pretty excited. You enjoyed watching your body slowly start to change. Izuku also found it ever so irresistible. You often found him putting a hand to your tummy, especially when you started to notice a little baby bump. From the moment he knew you were pregnant, he couldn’t sleep without you in his arms. He just had to know that you were safe and so was the little sprout in your womb. He would whisper and talk to the baby even before it could kick and respond back to his voice.
You couldn’t count how many times you had woken up from having drifted off before him to Izuku whispering everything he couldn’t wait to experience, all pointed towards your tummy.
It was fascinating watching and experiencing pregnancy before your eyes. You watched as your breasts grew, as you seemed to rounded up a bit, however the scariest thing was how your sex drive changed.
It was like someone had flipped a switch.
Almost completely overnight, you found yourself unexplainably horny. And it really took you by surprise when you were sitting in bed, Izuku just having come back off a shift that ended late. He put a hand to the back of his neck, a deep groan stumbling out of him as he slowly began to peel his hero uniform off of his body. At the sight of rippling muscles, his large scarred back and a groan stumbling out of his mouth, you were hit with a clench that took even you by surprise.
At first you tried to ignore it. And you really did. You were a real trooper trying to hide it as long as you did but you couldn’t stop yourself.
You just felt so needy. You wanted your husband and you wanted your husband to bend you over every surface of your house and take you like an animal. It made you feel so bad to objectify him in such a way, but every time you saw his body, heard his voice, smelt his scent… it was as if you were some crazed beast that couldn’t live without him.
You also missed him so much. It was almost like you couldn’t bare to be apart from him. Getting some anxiety watching him leave every morning and having to just sit at home and bake like an oven. It felt rather claustrophobic considering that the both of you didn’t want any of the public or the media to get wind of your pregnancy, so it meant no more spontaneous shopping trips or jogs around the neighbourhood.
However, you barely felt trapped in because half the time you were busy rubbing your sex trying to get off. Closer towards your fifth month of pregnancy, you couldn’t help it. Not even if you tried. It was like an intense cycle. You would wake up in Izuku’s arms and then feel the need for him to love on you, then you’d watch him leave and spend the rest of the day hold up in bed watching TV or trying to get off. It was like you couldn’t stop yourself. Even when you tried getting any work done, whether it be chores or any of your online work for the Deku Foundation, you often couldn’t stop the building ache between your legs.
Honestly, you were shocked that you held it together as long as you did. Until one fateful evening, Izuku and you were watching a movie together cuddled up in bed, but you couldn’t help but keep rubbing your thighs together. You glanced over at Izuku who had a large arm draped over your shoulder as his eyes stayed on the screen. He smelt like his fresh soap but also like a new fresh book and a hint of his cologne that never really went away.
He smelt so good.
And his calloused fingers drew circles on your skin, figureless shapes that traced on your skin patterns that didn’t make sense. Such big hands with such a large warm body and arm that kept you snuggled up to him. His body was warmer, often warmer than yours and it made you feel so tiny even now with a sizeable pregnancy bump. It didn’t help that his green curls were brushed slightly back but were that dark mop of green hair that brushed against his forehead. A strong yet soft face with freckles that littered his entire body, but warm green jade eyes that could stare right into your soul.
He looked so good.
You often couldn’t believe it. That this man, this adonis of a man, was your husband. That he made you Mrs Midoriya and slid a ring on your finger. Even more so that he was the man that impregnated you.
You drew in a breath.
Izuku turned to look down at you with a slight tilt of his head. An innocent look on his face as he seemed blissfully unaware of your lustful thoughts towards him. “Are you okay honey?” He asked softly, the sound of the movie playing in the background. You weren’t even sure what had happened after the first ten minutes.
You nodded your head as you forced a smile on your face. “Yah. I’m alright.”
He smiled, so glad that you were okay.
You weren’t. You wanted to climb him like the tree he was and jump on his cock till the sun rose.
“That’s good.” He squeezed you closer to him briefly, placing a kiss on your forehead before focusing back forward.
Your hands rested on your bump as you tried to focus on the movie rather unsuccessfully. This was the man who had placed the child inside you. The fact that you were carrying someone that you both created was enough to make a shiver run down your spine. You felt so happy to know that you were pregnant but now… now you felt another feeling you had never felt before.
You were Mrs Midoriya, wife of Midoriya Izuku who was the Number One ProHero of Japan, the symbol of Justice and Peace. You were his wife and you were carrying his child. His son. Inside of you was something so uniquely crafted that it would only ever exist once.
And you had managed to take his seed like the good wife that you were and plant it in your womb.
Fuck.
Izuku perked up. He had noticed that your breathing had turned heavy as he watched you. Your eyes were facing forward but they were totally glazed over. You were not paying attention at all. Your hands gripped your bump almost possessively as you sat silently at his side. Izuku sat up a bit, the movie long forgotten by the both of you as his eyebrows furrowed. Your whole pregnancy had been without fault but Izuku always had, in the back of his mind, fears that were enough to choke him.
“Honey?” You didn’t answer. “Honey?” You didn’t answer again. Now that really got Izuku concerned. He put both hands on your shoulders and shook you gently. “Y/N.” The stern tone of his voice took you by surprise as you turned to look at him. “What’s wrong?” He asked seriously.
You hesitated but you smiled with a breathy half heartedly laugh. “I’m fine, Izu. Just-”
“No, you’re not. You’ve been spacing out the entire movie.” He told you, half surprising you with how observant he was of your behaviours. His eyes held so much concern as he looked down at you. Green emerald eyes flicked down to your stomach briefly before putting a large hand on top of your bump. “Is it the baby?” His large warm hand just brushing against your clothed stomach made you release a soft moan as your eyes fluttered. “Sweetheart?”
You couldn’t hold back anymore. Either you were going to sneak your hand between your thighs for the fifth time today or you were going to jump him till you couldn’t see straight. “Izu…” Your voice was faint and almost sounded like you were exhausted.
“Yah.” He asked concerned for you, sitting up.
“I need you.”
“What do you need? Is it a craving? If so, I can go get it. Whatever it is.” He answered fast without hesitation as he turned to grab his phone, about to check whatever convenience store was still open at this time.
You grabbed his arm, instantly telling him to stop what he was doing. He froze as he turned to you. “No, Izuku, you don’t understand.” You told him, as you finally looked him dead in the eyes. For the first time since knowing you, Izuku saw something in your eyes he had never seen before. “I need you. I need you inside me, right now. I… I can’t think straight right now, all I know is that if I don’t have your dick inside me in the next three minutes, I think I’ll go crazy.”
To say Izuku was shocked would be an understatement. His face went red in surprise, you having genuinely caught him off guard for the first time in a long while. He had read that some pregnant woman could get hypersexual and others would lack the need for sexual encounters at all.
Hearing you so bluntly and so seriously say that you wanted him to fuck you was… well it was arousing to say the least. Izuku was pretty sure he was already half hard just by the second sentence.
He opened his mouth to speak, still absolutely shocked that this was actually happening.
“Izuku, may I use you?”
Without hesitation your husband answered. “Yes-”
A kiss went to his lips promptly shutting him up as you pulled him down to kiss you. A stuttered breath left your mouth as you immediately grabbed his cock over his sweatpants. A surprised gasp left his throat but you didn’t even register it as you let out a groan at the feeling of him. You hastily rushed to crawl over and hover over him. You pulled up the maternity sleepwear short gown to reveal that you were absolutely bare underneath, with not a single piece of underwear in sight. You were dripping wet. Slick lined the slit of your pussy and was even evident on the inside of your thighs. Izuku’s eyes widened as he watched you lift yourself up as you moved your hand down to stroke him up and down, aligning the pink tip of his cock to the entrance of your cunt.
It was only then that Izuku realised that you hadn’t stretched yourself out yet. “Y/N. Y/n wait-” A groan stumbled out of his lips as he felt your smouldering warm pussy stretch around him.
A loud moan stumbled out of your throat as you faced up to the ceiling, your eyes closing in pure pleasure. He felt so good. Considering that you had been knuckles deep inside of yourself for nearly a quarter of the day, you didn’t need the stretch. Despite being married for two years, you couldn’t deny that taking Izuku’s cock had never felt this good- and you loved your intimate times with your husband.
You let out a shaky breath as you slowly started to sink down, your thighs burning at you having to support your weight. Slowly you sank down further and further down his cock. The feeling of him going deeper and deeper inside you making you even more wet.
Finally you sank down, taking most of him inside you. Suddenly you felt your thighs quivering as you let out a deep moan. You hastly put a hand down against his chest, trying to hold you up, but Izuku quickly moved his hands to your hips holding you up like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Finally your high passed making you let out a heavy sigh as you tried to catch your breath.
“My love… did you just cum from taking my cock?” Izuku asked surprised as he looked up at you.
You gave him a meaningless glare but nodded your head. You tried to look down to look at your cunt, however soon found it impossible due to your stomach being in the way.
Izuku felt you tighten around his cock again. You didn’t waste a second as you moved up and then down. You were slow as you held onto his shoulder and one was placed down against the bed as you tried lifting you up and down his cock. You let out heavy breaths as you began to ride him, slowly trying to pick up past.
Instinctively, Izuku held you up and started doing most of the work for you. He slid down the rest of the way, down onto the bed, still holding you up on his cock. He fucked up into you making you moan as you started to roll your hips.
“Yes. Just like that Izu. Just like that.” You encouraged as you moved up and down his cock. Moans and whines were tumbling out of your throat without hinderance. You felt so much better now that you had him inside you, pushing against your walls and stretching you to the limit as he fucked into you. But despite feeling better, you also felt so much more in need for him now that you had him. “Yes! Fuck!” You cried out as you felt Izuku find a spot inside you before continuing to hit there.
You increased your speed as you hopped up and down. Whines escaped your lips for everytime your ass hit against his pelvis. You moved your dress up and off of your body, not even wanting the useless thing anymore. You had long foregone underwear nowadays, and no one could really blame you.
Izuku let out a deep groan as he felt you tighten around him again but this time your body locked and tensed as you came again. A cry came out of your lips as your cunt massaged his cock as you tried to milk him for all that he was worth. You felt so good.
Izuku let out a low growl as he lifted you up and off his cock, before pushing you down against the bed, swapping places with you. He spread your legs easily finding the perfect spot between them before sliding back in.
A groan came out of the both of you but a chuckle stumbled out of Izuku’s lips. He started to thrust in slowly, holding onto your thighs securely as to use them for an advantage. “You’ve been touching yourself haven’t you?” he asked amusedly. “Is that why you could take me so easly? It’s the only explanation considering that you weren’t wearing any panties, my love.”
You whined as you nodded your head. You lay back feeling helpless but so very aroused as you kept your legs nice and widely spread for your husband. “Yah. I couldn’t help it. I really couldn’t help it. I-” Every thrust felt deeper than the last making you gasp as you felt a particular one make you lose the ability to retain your breath. “Ah, right there. Right there Izuku!” You cried out.
“There?” He asked snapping his hips forward again, causing your back to arch with a high pitched squeal. A grin went to his face as he gripped your thigh tighter, planting one hand down onto the sheets underneath you before absolutely ploughing into you.
“YES!” You shouted loudly, uncaring of how slutty you sounded right now. Your voice was debauched and sounded nothing like you and yet it was. “Yes!” You let out gasping as you raised your hands to squeeze your tits. “Harder Izu! Harder! I need you deeper.” You urged as you tried moving your hips to taking more of him.
Your husband let out a low grunt, now too focused in pleasing you to formulate much words. He increased his pace, pushing your thighs further forward. Your cunt was creaming around his cock, squeezing him as you came undone around him.
“FUCKING-” This one took you by complete surprise as you could barely breathe. You were shaking in ecstasy, your eyes rolled back as you floated in pure mind numbing bliss for two long seconds. Unbeknownst to you, slick splashed against Izuku’s pelvis, wetting his cock as you had squirted around him. You finally gasped as you took in oxygen. “Oh my God! Oh my-” Words stopped formulating as you were being fucked through a mind shattering orgasm. Your eyes stayed rolled to the heavens as you let your husband pound into you till he felt like it. You couldn’t speak as you felt yourself mindless towards the pleasure, chasing it and pursuing it.
Izuku moaned carelessly as he fucked into you harder. You were so beautiful right now. Spread out in front of him, legs spread, eyes rolled back and your body limp to nothing but his actions. Your body jostled with every thrust, your tits hypnotising him but Izuku couldn’t help himself as he put a hand down to your baby bump. The cause of this whole situation. To think that you would find carrying his baby so arousing- carrying his baby.
“Fuck, your amazing. Your everything. Such a good fucking girl.” He praised as he could feel that he was reaching his limit. “All of this is just for you, baby. I’m all yours.” He reminded you.
You were aching for him to cum inside you, to have him remind you who you belonged to. To have his seed deep inside you. You wondered if this was the position that you got pregnant in.  
Your thighs shook as a hum went through your body.
“Shit. I’m gonna cum.” Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed as he held you safely. “I’m- I’m gonna-” Without a moments of hesitation, a deep groan left Izuku’s throat as he spilled inside you. Spurts of hot thick ropes of cum inside you that made you just relax, your muscles tired as you sunk into the bed. For the first time in weeks feeling fool satisfied.
Your husband let out heavy breaths as he stayed inside you, noticing how content you were there. You let out a hum as you moved a hand to rest over your bump with a sigh. You nodded your head as you looked up at him. “That… that was…”
“Fucking insane.” That made you giggle, causing you to tighten around his cock. He let out a hiss but loved the overstimulation of it all.
You giggled as you looked up at him with love brimming in your gaze, highly appreciating this. That did quickly change as you began to shuffle just a few seconds later, moving your hips as you slipped a hand past to fiddle with your clit. You bit your bottom lip as you clenched around his cock, looking up at him. “Do you mind Izu?” Your husband looked at you surprised at the question. “I can’t help it.”
He had just unlocked a monster that he wouldn’t be able to escape from till the moment your son was born. He wondered if he was brave enough to face it.
Considering that you had been walking around the home without panties for what could be more than a week…
He was more than willing to accept the challenge.
-Glitch1d
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vibingandsimping · 9 months
Text
Randomly assorted headcanons (sfw+nsfw) for randomly assorted characters… pt. 2
I have yet to make a pinned post with some sort of navigation/rules guide but I will state in all my posts. Asks and Submissions are always open and if you have trouble with it comment!
Not proofread cause that’s for the weak 🥰
Characters involved: Gale, Halsin, Karlach
Tags/Forewarnings: AFAB + AMAB genitalia mentions, use of magic to enhance sex, size differences, breeding, general worshipping, oral (receiving + giving), temperature play, fingering, penetration.
Gale
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Y’all love pathetic men… I support. Anyways… Tell me i’m wrong but he’d love to spoil you. We already know he practically worships the ground you walk on. You entered his life full of strife and paved a way for him to have a more hopeful future. His eyes are practically hearts when he gazes upon you. As such, he’d love to buy you and craft you things when he can. He’d buy you a gorgeous dress/vest/suit and enchant it to your liking. It feels, quite literally, like magic when you wear it. He presses kisses to your ear as he sings about how downright breathtaking you are. You hate the fact that the words make a giggle bubble in your chest.
He holds you at any opportunity he gets. In truth, he cannot fathom that you two are lovers. He’s been with a goddess before but even she did not compare to you. His pinky grazes yours as you two stand near eachother. When someone’s back turns, he presses kisses onto your cheek until you forcibly push him away. Which he always uses his puppy eyes as a retaliation to show his hate. Curse those big brown eyes. If you’d let him, he’d be more intimate without being inherently sexual. His hands glide along your skin as he helps you bathe in a nearby river or lake. Occasionally he whispers about how perfect you are to him, inside and out.
Personally, this man is the male version of a wine aunt. Once he feels that he can unwind in the camp without facing repercussions, he likes to get delightfully tipsy. Enough that his skin warms and his tongue loosens. He laughs along with the companions and makes chatter in the quiet camp. If you happen to grace him with your presence, he sings out your name and beckons you forth. To his surprise, you settle next to him on the bedroll and he wraps an arm around your waist. Squeezing you tight as he presses his nose against the pulse in your neck. He murmurs almost incoherently but you can tell from the tone of his voice it was sweet nothings.
When the camp is silent and everyone is asleep, he enjoys the thrill of seeking you out. He finds you in your bedroll and gently shakes you awake, claiming he desires you and cannot sleep. If you are so kind to spare your sleep and indulge him, he promises he’ll make it worth your time. You two trail off to somewhere more secluded before he grasps you by the waist and presses his lips onto yours. His lips aren’t too rough against yours but pleasantly warm. His fingers dance along your skin, trailing the expanse of your stomach. Suddenly, he’s whispering against your lips. You can’t tell if he’s worked you up properly or if he’s genuinely speaking nonsense. Then, a sudden and intense shiver runs through your body. He smirks at you slightly and you cannot help the excitement in your veins.
You’d nearly forgotten about the strange shiver that encompassed your body until you were on your knees in front of him. His expression held a soft intimacy yet a deep desire. He was anything but pure… just so willing for your attention and love. His cock would throb before you in a silent plead for touch. You wrap your hand around the base before wrapping your lips around the tip. He gasps softly at the sensation whilst your eyes widened. As you touched him, there was a tingle in your own loins. It was shockingly intense and you mentally cursed this man for the effect he had on you. Steeling yourself, you began to work on his shaft. Suckling, licking, stroking… all while breathy gasps and whimpers escaped his chest. The tingle in your body didn’t dissipate- no, it only grew stronger. That’s when you gazed up at him in realization. His gaze was knowing and a little dark. The bastard charmed you… so that all the pleasure he experienced you’d experience and vice-versa. So that you two were properly intermingled for all the pleasure indulged that night.
He takes a certain pleasure in finding the spots on your body that make you shake and moan. Especially those that aren’t explicitly between your thighs. If he finds a spot on your neck, or thighs, or chest that makes you whimper and grasp his hair? He’s showering it with all his attention and love until it’s practically numb. His beard tickles your skin and causes you to occasionally squirm from the sensation. He wants you as turned on and into him as he is you. You can feel his erection against your thigh as he covers your neck in hickeys. His hips occasionally grinding for some sort of friction as he focused on you. If your hand trails down to his bulge, he grabs it swiftly and holds it beside your head. His lips are swollen and wet from his kisses and his pupils are blown wide. “Not yet, please, I’m not done. Not ready for this to be over yet…” He whines and gazes at you with a certain twinkle. Who are you to tell him no? Or, maybe that’s what you want to see?
Halsin
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He adores the size difference you two have. He towers over nearly everybody he knows and gotten used to being large. Honestly, it was kind of a nuisance at times. He envied others who could bed anyone without the worry of repercussions. Yet, that is a topic for discussion later down this list. Point said, he loves the feeling you provide in his chest. A protective instinct overwhelms him. No matter how soft, rugged, muscular or chubby you are. He wants to hold you and ensure you’ll be safe. The look in his eyes as you stand on your tiptoes to even reach him bending over for a kiss shows the thrill he finds in it. It’s even better when you two are cuddling and you can rest your body so comfortably ontop of his. He’ll encapsulate his arms around your form and keep you close, enjoying the thrum of your heart as you sleep.
He’d teach you how to carve wood, if you’d like. It was one of his hobbies and for you to show interest in it only reminds him of how fine a specimen you are. He’s careful as he teaches you, watchful eyes constantly glancing and staring over your shoulder as your thumbs turn the wood and the knife makes shavings. His hands wrap around yours and guide you when you struggle or use improper technique. His chest slotted against your back as he hums softly, paying no mind to how flustered you’d get. When you finish your first lesson, you both show off the sculptures you made. He’s thoroughly impressed and praises whatever you decided to carve. Later, you find it on a table in his tent. The sight makes your chest tighten and heart soar. He loves you so utterly deeply.
He craves you so desperately it is almost amusing. Your touch, your voice, your presence. He doesn’t outwardly express it but there’s a certain air around him when you approach. His gaze softens as his chest puffs and he watches you expectantly. Despite all the lovers he’s taken in his years, you’d swear he looks like he’s fallen in love for the first time. He’s nearly whipped by you. No-one has seemed so enraptured by you before. Each word you speak he’s hung unto, he watches all your movements so closely. Halsin makes sure to wrap you tightly in his hugs. Both to show you that he loves all of you and to remind you of the fact he wishes to protect you. He knows his boundaries and doesn’t follow you like a lost puppy… but when you seek him of your own accord he’s utterly thrilled.
This man is a breeder. Don’t argue with me on it. He seeks all the thrills and pleasures of nature. Regardless of if you can or cannot get pregnant, he stuffs you so full that in your haze you are sure you’ll carry his kid. He tries so hard to be gentle with you and to some degree he is. His hands trail your skin softly like you were fine china. Though, he allows himself the pleasure of gripping your curves, dips and muscles. While he holds you so gently, you cannot say the same for where he’s pushing his length into. It’s vigorous- almost mind-numbing. He groans into your ear shamelessly and with the knowledge you find it attractive. If you’d let him, he’d give into his desires and fill you til he was sure he had nothing else left to give. He’d pick you up after and bathe you. Washing you of the forest dirt and sweat accumulated on your skin. All while whispering about how he adores you and you’ve done so well for him.
We all know he’s a munch/dick eater. It’s literally confirmed in his sex scene that he immediately goes down on you… and for that I will write for.
AFAB. He’ll hook a thigh over his shoulder and press his nose against the bump of your cunt. His tongue lavishes your clit in licks and suckles as his gaze remains heady on yours. If you can even look at him, that is. One hand trails on the leg you’re standing on before teasing your parted lips. He gathers your wetness and pushes a singular finger inside. He watches as your body tenses and relaxes from his ministrations. His tongue does not stop it’s assault. Then it’s two fingers, hooking and searching for the spot that he knows will make you abandon previous care. Once he finds it, you’re crying out to the woods. His large fingers practically abuse your walls as he sucks your clit like a madman. You began to whimper and shake in his hold. His strength became apparent when he pushes your hips against the tree to keep you still. To show that you cannot escape his pleasure and act of love. Pride swells in his chest and he keeps going until you’re shuddering in his hold. The coil in your belly snapping as hands fly down to grasp his hair, hips rocking against his face.
AMAB. There’s a smirk that engraves his face when he sees exactly how hard you’d gotten for him. His hands wrap around your thighs as he trails kisses along the skin of your stomach. Then, as soon as you open your mouth to protest, a kiss is placed on the tip. You tense and he begins to show your length some attention. One hand abandons your thigh to favor your sack, gently fondling as his kitten licks and kisses turn into something more intense. Lips wrapping around the head before taking you in one gulp. Your head throws back and your thighs quiver. Either he had tons of experience or you were simply smaller in comparison and he could do it with ease. Either way, the warmth of his throat is nearly overwhelming to your senses. He looks up between your legs when he could, bobbing his head as you began to melt into the pleasure. His nails gently scratched the skin of your thigh while his other continued it’s undivided attention to the sensitive skin of your balls. He continues like this, humming and suctioning around your cock until you either spill down his throat or pull him off of you. Either way, he has a cocky smile on his face as he wipes spit and precum from his lips.
Karlach
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She is a very passionate woman. She burns bright, literally and metaphorically, and is a flame that will forever burn by your side. She is especially passionate about her companions and most importantly you. She supports you in nearly every decision you make and if she doesn’t agree, she tries to understand anyways. She’s loud and speaks so highly of you to those she meets. Almost like a mother showing off her kids accomplishments in life. She’d likely be such a good mother if she ever had that opportunity. Until you fix her mechanical heart she supports you with just words and actions. As much as she craves to pull you into her grasp or press her lips on yours, she’s a ticking bomb and is capable of hurting those. When you do fix it? She can barely keep her hands and lips off you. Ten years of forced abstinence nearly drove her MAD. While she doesn’t outright burn you, she’s so, so warm.
She loves jamming out. Dancing, playing an instrument, singing… it gives her an excuse to release her pent up energy. Bard or not, she gives you those puppy eyes and nearly begs you to join her. She’ll dance with you and wrap her arms around your waist or hold your hand as you two dip and twirl. Her laugh is an angelic sound and any reservations you held melted away in her intense heat and passion. She had a way of lighting the room up and bringing out the best in those around her. You admired her for it. She eventually slows the rhythm between you two and smiles against your skin (hunched over or not). She whispers against you, light and full of emotion. “You have no idea how thankful I am to have met you. I feel complete.” The breath you take is shaky as her words fill you with such fullness. This tiefling had wormed her way into your heart like the tadpole your mind. Except, this was a worm you wished to keep. You both would do anything for each other and you both knew it.
She absolutely seethes when anyone does you dirty. The girl is quite literally growling when someone hurts you emotionally or physically. Even a wrong look can have her hackles raising and her all pissed. You sometimes have to sit her down and remind her that you’re fine. She assures you’re safe and you appreciate it. After losing so much in her life, the control of her own body and mind, she cannot imagine losing you. Small threats alarm her and she feels guilty that she cannot contain her emotions. This time you assured her that you weren’t going anywhere because she was passionate and hot-headed. You two had your own issues… and she wants nothing more than to work through them together and be the biggest supporters for each other. She pulls you into a bear hug afterwards, nuzzling against your jaw as her horn tangles in your hair. She plants kisses along the skin til you’re laughing and the air is less tense between you two.
As much as she so UTTERLY wishes to touch you, she’s so touch deprived. You know that she needs the attention after she’s had her heart repaired. You lay her down on the ground and trail kisses from her lips down to her throat and to her chest. She watches you with an excitement. It appears as if she was ready to jump out of her skin from the pure joy of being able to enjoy the sensations of flesh once more. You pay extra attention to her breasts and nipples before continuing further down to her navel. At this point, she’s squirming and whimpering desperately. “Come on, babe. Don’t tease me. I need you- so badly..” Her tone was pathetic if anything. There was no true fight or bite in her words. She liked giving her submission to you for once, letting her mind shut down. You wished nothing more than to give her what she deserved after all this time.
Once you finally reach further south, your hands slot around her hips and hold them down as you plant a few kisses against the inner of her thigh. All the teasing between you two was so worth it when you hear the wanton moan escape her lips as your tongue finally met her most sensitive parts. The heat of her cunt was intense- just like the rest of her. It was nearly overwhelming… almost burning your tongue. Yet, you ached for that warmth. To finally enjoy her moans and provide her with such pleasure. She has claws in your hair, tugging and tickling your scalp. One hand on her chest as you begin a rhythm with your tongue against her clit. Once she was beginning to properly fall apart against your mouth, you released a hand from her hip and trailed betwixt her lower lips. Your fingers sought her warmth and was pleasantly surprised with how she burned even hotter inside. Truly a creature of the hottest hells. Yet, it didn’t quite burn you… certainly was a different sensation compared to the crisp air around you. You know that she’ll return this pleasure tenfold to you. It’s her nature… and you couldn’t wait til you two were properly intertwined later in the night.
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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 months
Note
You asked for Spencer Reid and Reader requests, particularly plus size, and I am so down bad for that man! Especially later seasons him.
Could I have one where he and the reader are intellectual peers but also enemies? Like she's on the team and just as wicked smart as him and into old literature and languages but they constantly butt heads? And the team knows they really just have feelings for each other, but they'll never admit it. Maybe the reader admits it to Penelope or someone one night drinking that he's hot but she never thought he'd actually sleep with her bc she's fat, but she'll take his attention any way she can get it. Maybe Spencer overhears and proceeds to show her just how hot he finds her arguing with him? 👀 Thank you in advance, girlie!
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༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
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— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader
— summary: you and spencer hate each other, that much is obvious... right?
— warnings: very surprisingly crude language in this, self-doubt, implied insecurities, misunderstandings, e2l, they're in love and everyone else knows besides them, i made them dorks i don't apologize, mentions of wet dreams, mentions of male masturbation, dirty thoughts, kissing, stripping, vaginal fingering, spencer's dirty mouth, lots of reassurance 'cause i'm a sap, spencer reid #1 consent king, missionary, unprotected sex, sex god spencer?!?! (he does his research), pleasure dom!spencer, switch r & spencer, heavy praise, and a fluffy ending to tie this all up in a nice little bow!
— wc: 3136
⋆ a/n: okay i do admit that this is RIDICULOUSLY long, but i knew exactly what i was getting into writing this and honestly i had so much fun! i don't think i've ever created such characters that have so much chemistry with each other, so cheers to that! (unedited unfortunately :[)
masterlist | AO3
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As soon as you hear Spencer’s voice, you make a point to groan obnoxiously loud.
“And just to think I would be able to go home without a headache today.” 
You could feel the glare from said man burning a hole in the back of your head, so you swivel your chair around in order to face the music – in a pleasurable masochist kind of way. His annoyingly handsome face was twisted up in irritation – much to your glee – his eyebrows turned down, and his perfect, plush lips pulled into a deep frown. 
You could tell you had interrupted him saying something that he deemed important, most likely a fact that you and him would go back and forth on, and you couldn’t be more pleased with yourself.
“Funny you mention that seeing as though your voice is the cause of mine.” He bit back, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Aw, you think of my voice?” You tease. “Only in my nightmares.” You wink at him. “You still think about me.”.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Luke piped up from his own desk, drawing the attention from your other intrigued co-workers in the bullpen. “Oh here we go.” Tara said in amusement at Luke’s rambling.
“Back when I was a kid there was this girl that I went to school with, and I would always tug on her hair or try to trip her,” His voice was almost reminiscent. “Everyone thought I hated her, when in reality I was just trying to get her attention.”
“Ah,” Matt said with a smile, “The classic ‘boy bullying the girl he likes,’ or in this case, it’s the girl this time.” Your cheeks began to heat and your eyes went wide, Spencer’s own face and the tips of his ears turning an admirable pink hue.
“Absolutely not -”
“What? No -”
Both Spencer and you stumbled over each other to try and defend yourself, but you didn’t have a chance because Emily’s voice cut through whatever was about to be said next, the woman making haste from her office and into the room with the round table.
“Alright you guys, enough. We’ve got a case.”
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“To a job well done!” Penelope cheered as she held up her citrusy alcoholic beverage in the air, signaling she wanted to toast.
You smiled indulgently at the woman sitting next to you, clinking your glass with hers noisily and flickering your eyes over to where a disheveled Spencer Reid sat. You didn’t say anything to him though, because you’re a big ol’ softie and like to let the boy wonder rest before you have him back on his toes.
His eyes met yours the same time your glasses collided. You wish you could say that the vibrations from the clinking was the cause of the shiver that forced its way down your spine, but you knew better. 
It was like the rest of the bar disappeared, the sound of the others joining in on your rejoicing fell on deaf ears. You could have sworn his dark brown puppy-dog eyes drank you in before he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a rather comically large gulp of his water.
Your eyelashes fluttered like a thousand butterflies wings as you rushed to drink your own beverage.
“Okay, what was that!?” You felt Penelope’s finger poke at your ribs before you actually heard her. 
“Ow - fuck! What was what?” You yelped quietly, your hand reaching down to bat away her stabbing digits. “The - the -” She fought to portray her words before her face lit up when she found the correct ones, “The eyefucking!” 
Your stomach erupted in butterflies, “Eyefucking? What eyefucking?” You asked with a scoff, hiding your blush behind the rim of your mug. 
“Oh, please, don’t give me that.” It was Penelope’s turn to scoff at you. “Everybody knows that you and Spencer like each other.” She said it almost like it was a fact, leaning forward to take a smug sip of her drink through the miniature black straw.
Spencer knew listening in on Penelope and your conversation was inappropriate; but in his defense, you guys weren’t really quiet about what you were talking about.
“I -” He heard you begin, “It’s one-sided.” Was all you said before draining your beer. “So you admit it!” Penelope exclaimed with a gasp.
Spencer felt his eyes go wide at her words, but there was this desperate feeling that spread throughout his body; one that caused his fingers to twitch and the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
“When you put it like that it sounds childish!” You complained slightly, biting at the meat of your lip. “I… I’m just not his type you know? Like - you know better than anyone that guys don’t pay attention to girls like us, so you have to learn to improvise.” You were cringing at your own words, but the liquid in your cup was enough to loosen your tongue and lower your inhibitions.
“Was me choosing to constantly argue with him the smartest way to try and peak his interest? No, but I knew he liked a challenge and well… it definitely wasn’t the proudest conclusion I ever came to, but what was I supposed to do? It isn’t like Spencer would date me let alone actually want to sleep with me.”
Spencer wanted to argue with you about how wrong you were, to tell you about every thought he’d ever had about you.
He wanted to tell you about how much you frustrate him, how at first, he thought he hated you and it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he hated how badly he wanted you; hated how many dirty dreams he had included you and that plush body of yours. He’d wondered how soft you were, how you smelled and tasted. 
Did your moans and whines sound as enchanting as your laugh? Did your eyes twinkle the same way when you were about to cum? 
Those thoughts kept him up at night and his hands in his pants, stroking himself to his unlimited imagination all revolved around you. Those were the days that he was more prone to pick fights with you, mostly because he was embarrassed, ashamed, and quite frankly plain ol’ horny.
Spencer thought you were just so sexy, especially when he had managed to light that fire under your ass that really got you going. He wasn’t a sadist or a masochist by any means, but he loved when you yelled at him. So, for you to think so lowly of yourself it almost drove him mad because you didn’t know.
But you were going to.
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You were going to kill whoever was bothering you on your day off.
The knocking was unexpected, but so was who was responsible for the noise.
“Spencer?” You asked in surprise. 
Usually you were prepared for your exchanges with the man, but if your pajamas were anything to go by, you were anything but. Spencer felt his mouth go dry at the sight of your tits sitting braless in a thin undershirt, your soft tummy slightly straining against the cotton material and a pair of shorts that look like they were practically strangling your thighs.
The only thing he could really say was… “Do you know how infuriating you are?”
Your eyebrows furrowed and you crossed your arms over your chest, and little did you know the action pressed the tops of your breasts over the hemline. “Excuse me?” You almost scoffed, “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to argue with me.”
“No I - fuck just let me finish.” This was not how he wanted this to go. You looked like you wanted to say something but your curiosity made you choose to stay silent.
“Do you know why you’re so infuriating?” He asked, taking a tentative but careful step towards you. “Because you haunt my every living thought. I see you when I’m awake, I see you when I’m asleep. I can’t… I can’t escape you! I can’t escape how I feel about you.”
Your eyes were wide and your brows were furrowed; it looked like you almost couldn’t breathe.
“But you want to know the worst part?” His hand lands on your cheek and his thumb gently caresses the skin there. “You have the audacity to think that I wouldn’t want you.” 
“You want me?” You asked in disbelief. “But I… but I thought you hated me? I mean - I haven’t been all that nice to you.” You attempt to joke weakly, but your body is on fire; your stomach is tangled up in knots. You were trembling in excitement at his words but in disbelief too.
“Do you have any idea how much I love arguing with you?”
You laughed at his words, your lips slipping into a small smirk as you threw your arms around his neck in an act of boldness. “Oh yeah?” You hummed seductively. “You wanna show me how much?”
“Yeah,” He replied breathlessly. “I do.”
And just like that his mouth was on yours and a long leg shot out behind him to shut your front door. The slam made you yelp, but it quickly melted into a giggle against his lips when he reconnected them.
Spencer tugged you closer to him, and God the feeling of your body was so much better than anything his subconscious could have conjured up. You felt so soft and the front part of your torso pressed against his chest in a way that if he didn’t have you naked under him soon he was going to go crazy.
“Where’s your bedroom?” He didn’t want to pull away from you, but he wanted to do this right.
“I didn’t know you were a gentleman, Reid.” You teased with a dazed smile on your face. “There’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me.” You quirked a brow. “Oh really? How about you tell me?”
“Later,” He said with a lazy shake of his head, “Later.”
His hand reached down to cup your ass, your crotch rubbing on the large boner restrained by his pants. You moaned quietly at the feeling, and found yourself saying, “Down the hall and to the left.”
When you arrived, he couldn’t keep his hands off you; they grabbed at your back, ass, waist, hips. There was so much of you that he had no idea where to start. All he knew is that he wanted all of you right now.
“Can I take your shirt off, please?” His words almost came out as a whine and it welcomed a fresh wave of arousal in your panties. “Take off whatever you want, I’m yours.” A reassuring confession that Spencer had no idea he needed to hear. 
His lithe, veiny hands tugged at your top first, dragging it over your head and throwing it somewhere random. Your pants and panties were next to go and you couldn’t help but shiver at Spencer's intense stare.
“I’m uh- feeling a little vulnerable here, could you lose a layer or two?” 
The man blinked rapidly, his fingers shooting to undo the buttons on his cardigan. “Yes, yeah of course, sorry I -'' You grabbed the shaky digits. “Calm down, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere.” It was a light jab meant to ease his nerves. For a moment he looked unsure but you gave an encouraging smile.
After his clothes disappeared he held you by your waist, walking you backwards until your calves hit the bed. You quickly hurried to scale the mattress until your head hit the pillows.
“God,” Spencer gulped. “This is so much better than what I imagined.” You giggled slightly. “As much as I appreciate your flattery, I want you to fuck me. Now.” You said it with such simplicity that his eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets at your crudeness.
He swallowed his shock. “Whatever the lady wants.”
He hurried to crawl over your leaning body; you cup his cheek in an act of haste, dragging him down to lay on top of you. His own hands didn’t stop their determined trail, tracing the soft planes of your plush body until he reached your wet cunt.
You whine loudly at the feeling of Spencer’s fingers stroking your damp slit.
“So responsive.” He murmured with delighted smirk. You go to say something snarky but you’re quickly cut off when he begins to rub tight circles on your clit. “‘M sensitive.” You gasp against his lips, your back arching and pressing further into him.
His body falls to the side, laying next to your naked one with a cheek balanced on his fist. “I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” Spencer whispers into your ear. His ring finger entered your warmth slowly and he felt himself choke on his words. You mewled, a hand shooting up to tangle in his long, curly hair, the other grabbed at his wrist.
“Then, I’m gonna make you cum on my cock.” After a few experimental twists of his wrist, his middle finger joins the first. Your breathing speeds up with every movement of his digits. 
“Afterwards, ‘m gonna clean you up and take you out to eat.” Your brain could barely process what he was saying, but every word that left his mouth added to the swarming butterflies in your gut – which felt so juvenile seeing as though he was already knuckle deep inside you.
“And when we get home, I’m gonna eat this sweet pussy for dessert.” 
Your eyelashes were fluttering rapidly, your hips moving frantically on his fingers in an attempt to try and get him deeper. Spencer must have sensed what you needed, because with a few firm swipes on your sensitive clit sent you spiraling over the edge.
“Spencer, Spencer, Spencer… I - I -” Your gummy walls squeezed his digits, and the only thing keeping you grounded was the heat coming from his body.
“Wow.” You laughed breathlessly. “Wow indeed.” He mimics with the same amount of amusement.
“Are you okay to keep going?” He asks. 
“Are you kidding?” The look on his face was almost laughable, and you gave his naked chest an encouraging pat. “Hell yeah I’m good, how about you?”
“If I told you I could cum just from watching you, would you believe me?” You roll your eyes and snort. “We’ll find out later, loverboy. Get up here.”
He scrambles to get on top of you, but then stops. “Wait, wait,” He reaches behind your head and grabs a pillow. “Lift your hips up for me.” Your eyes go wide, because who in the fuck taught him that? Though you move a bit slowly through your surprise, he manages to get the soft thing under you, your lower back now elevated.
But all excitement dies out when he realizes there might be no protection, he looks like he could almost cry.
“It’s cool, Spence. I’m on the pill and I… I haven’t had sex with anyone in an embarrassingly long time.” You admit shyly, your eyes casting to the side nervously. “I’m clean too. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve had sex either.” 
You guys make eye contact and erupt into a fit of giggles, “To relearning the art of sexual intercourse then.” Spencer scrunches his nose up at your wording, but you don’t give him any time to retort because you’ve already placed two hands on his face, tugging his head down to kiss your smile-split lips.
He takes the time to kiss you for a moment before reaching down to line his dick up to your entrance. You both shiver at the sensation. You guys disconnect your lips to watch him enter you, your foreheads pressed together and breaths mingled in anticipation.
You moaned in unison when he slowly but surely seethed himself in you fully, and your body tensed at the long awaited intrusion. “Gimme a sec.” You gulped. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He panted.
You allowed yourself a moment to relax, brushing your fingers through his curls as a way to comfort Spencer as well. After taking a few more seconds to enjoy the raw, intimate moment between the two of you, you said, “Okay. Okay, I’m good.” 
Spencer licked his lips and rolled his hips tentatively, and your breath hitched. A string of whimpers were soon to follow with every drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls, the leftovers of your previous orgasm leaving your body feeling electric.
Your mouth drops open into an ‘o’ shape when his tip brushes your g-spot.
“Right - right there Spence…good boy - fuck - good fucking boy.” 
The term of endearment was an accidental slip of the tongue, but it had frayed some nerve in his body, because the groan that left him was guttural and hungry.
“Say -” He huffs. “Say it again, please.” The pace of his thrusts speed up as he begs, and your nails drag down his back. “You’re my good boy, Spencie.” His eyes flutter shut at the praise and he doesn’t bother to be gentle anymore.
“Mphm! More - I need more.”
“Okay, okay.” He rushed to balance on his elbow so that his other arm could slip between the two of your bodies to rub at your clit. Your back arched, and Spencer all but throbbed inside of you, his balls tightening and threatening to cum right then and there; but ever the gentleman, he waited, his stomach sucked in tightly and his body jolting quivering.
“I - I’m gonna cum.” 
It didn’t take much to pull you into a kiss. It was sloppy, and messy, and lewd and all of those other wonderful synonyms. Spit dribbled down your chins and with one last hard thrust that almost sent you up the bed, you gripped onto the older man for dear life.
Everything went white as you came; your hearing, your vision, every single cognitive thought you had pretty much flew out the window.
It was Spencer gently wiping the sweat off of your brow that brought you back down to reality, your lungs finally opening up and expanding for that much needed air.
“Hey,” He cooed. “There you are.”
“Hi,” You sighed with a ditzy smile on your face.
There was a moment of silence before you said, “How about we save the oral for breakfast?” Spencer laughed, but nonetheless nodded in agreement. “That sounds perfect.”
“So, what’s for dessert then?” He couldn’t help but ask. “Hm…” You pondered for a moment. 
“How about ice cream?”
“I like ice cream.” But then he added, “But I like you more.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You groaned, covering your eyes, but your grin gave you away. “I like you too, I guess.”
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1K notes · View notes
jyoongim · 3 months
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Can I have human Alastor x reader smut n like they’re both virgins n it’s their wedding night like newly weds n he eats her out for first time n they fuccccc n like super fluffy n hand holding n i love yous n both are nervous n shy n adorable pleeeeeaaaase im begging
I almost missed this request but its so cute!!!!
You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to get your nerves together. 
You had changed into a short silk nightie. Your lacy garters clung to your plush thighs, holding up the thigh highs. You had pulled your robe over it and took a deep breathe.
Tonight was the night.
You had just married the man of your dreams.
The wedding and reception was beautiful; your families danced, sang and drank to their hearts content.
Your aunties had teased you about your wedding night, making rather vulgar comments about how exciting your night was going to be. Your mother had snuck and packed lingerie into your luggage for this moment.
”Oh honey that man there? I know you’re gonna have a wild night.”
”Youre gonna be giving us some little ones by the time y’all come back”
”dearest remember men like it when you do…”
”Oh I can’t to hear everything when you get back”
You had half a mind to change and just put on one of your nightgowns, but you wanted to be sexy. 
It was your wedding night after all.
And you wanted to look good for your husband.
You gathered your nerves and made your way to the living room.
Alastor wasn’t there.
You padded over and poked your head into the kitchen and found the man pouring himself a drink.
”mind pouring me one on the rocks?” You said, making him turn around at the sound of your voice.
Heat pumped to your cheeks as his eyes widened, you held your giggle as you made your way to stand in front of him.
You feigned innocence as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing as he kissed your forehead and handing you a glass of whiskey.
You took a sip, nose scrunching at the taste but smiled as Alastor clinked his glass with yours.
”To us my dear” he said chugging the liquor. You giggled and really took in your surroundings.
You hopped on the kitchen island and sighed “I can’t believe we are married. Oh my stars Alastor we-were really married” you covered your smiling face, feet swaying.
Alastor let out a laugh, coming to stand between your thighs, hands on your waist, smiling at you “yes we are. And I am the happiest man alive doll”
He caught sight of the sheer material on your foot, his brow quirked, making you smile slightly. His hands fingered with the knot of your robe, loosening it and his jaw went slack.
”My momma seems to want us to give her grandbabies soon as possible” you giggled as he toyed with the garter, trailing his finger along your skin.
“That can certainly be arranged” he mumbled to himself, opening the robe to see what you were hiding .
Alastor felt heat rush straight to his cock as he took you in;
The silk garment clung to your figure, hugging your soft curves and making your skin look so soft, your garters teasing him, making him want to use his teeth to rip it off.
You looked gorgeous.
His fingers tapped along your skin, he pushed his hips into the counter as he leaned into you, burying his face in your neck.
The entirety of your courtship Alastor had been a gentleman and did not even try to indulge in you. 
Sure there was heavy petting and intense kissing…
but this oh this was different
The two of you were married now.
It was now acceptable and even encouraged that the two of you would be connected at the hip.
Large hands danced along your thighs and slipped under your nightie to follow the garter straps.
A low groan met your ears as Alastor’s fingers dug into your soft flesh, his teeth nipped at your ear ”No panties doll? Oooh my dear always a vixen”
Your cheeks heat up as you feel his thumb graze the slit of your soft lips, rubbing soft circles on your clit.
”A-Al?” You whined as he littered your neck and shoulder in kisses, nipping at the delicate flesh as his thumb pressed onto the bud that made you tingle.
He hummed before pulling you closer to the edge of the island “how lucky am I to have such a pretty wife?” He drawled, taking his free hand and hooking his finger under your chin and pressing his lips to yours.
”A pretty wife I adore, worship, and would do anything for.” 
You keened as he deepened the kiss, head dizzy with pleasure.
Alastor pulled away and chuckled at your lidded dazed eyes.
You let out a squeal as he heaved you over his shoulder and made his way through the estate. Your breath caught in your throat as you watch your husband remove his shirt, leaving his chest bare.
Your husband was not a very large man no, instead he was tall and lanky. Lean muscle rippled under his flesh and you bit your lips as your eyes roamed over the scars that littered his skin.
Heat pulsed between your legs.
Alastor caught you ogling and flashed you a smile as he crouched between your legs.
Your nerves twisted as he nuzzled the skin of your thigh
“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want darlin” he reassured you, running his hands over your legs.
“N-No its okay. I ju- i want to experience the whole wedding night thing. And with you. I want us to explore this new thing together.” You tried to focus else where, pouting, making him smile.
Contrary to what many people thought, Alastor, the dazzling radio host, was not as experienced as one would think.
Not a womanizer, though he looked like it. The old handsome bastard
Alastor slithered up your body, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers, bringing your hand to his lips, thumb fiddling with your shiny wedding band.
”If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable just tell me and we can stop ok?” He said with a serious look.
You nodded and pulled his head to yours, connecting your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, scratching his scalp and massaging his bare shoulders.
The two of you just stayed like that; happily sucking at each other faces, tongues sweeping over each other and pecking lips.
Alastor nipped at your swollen lips, nudging your chin to expose your neck to him ”I want to try something dearest” he said softly,  making you tilt your head.
He slide down until he was kneeling on the floor, his hands on top of your thighs and head wedged between your legs.
You watch his head dip under your nightie and tensed up feeling his breath on your mound.
He brushed his nose against your clit, mouth ghosting over your slit. Your lips formed an ‘O’ as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked!
”Oh!” You gasped, back arching.
Alastor’s tongue swirled around the bud, alternating between licking and sucking on the bud.
His tongue dipped down to tease your quivering hole.
”A-Al!?” You whimpered, hands fisting the covers.
The man propped your legs atop his broad shoulders to angle you better, to slot his mouth against your cunt.
His hands gripped your waist to keep you from withering away from him.
The sound soft suckling and your gasps filled the room.
With a slight pop, Alasto released your throbbing clit and licked a strip up your slit.
He let out a chuckle “Ooh ma cherie you taste as sweet as I always thought” he lifted his head and smiled at you, chin glistening in your juices.
Your face was flushed as you panted. Your fingers pulled at your nightie until the garment was tossed to the side, leaving you bare and only in your stockings.
Alastor’s cock twitched at the sight of your full, perky tits.
He shimmied out of his loose pants, climbing up your body to capture your lips. His hands pulled your legs around his waist as he grinded his hard cock into your wet heat.
You moaned into his mouth as you lifted your hips into his, clit catching onto the tip of his clothed cock.
”A-Al i want…I want to please you as well”
He hummed as his drifted towards your chest, teeth tugging at your nipples before enveloping the mound into his mouth.
You lightly pushed against him to sit up. Lips never parting, you fondled his cock, bristling as he groaned into your mouth and cock hardening within your hand.
”I-Inside p-please Al” you begged, pressing your head against his.
It wasn’t as easy as your aunties had tried to tell you. The magazines made it look easy, but by god!
Your eyes clenched as you gritted your teeth, taking his weeping tip and running it over your folds. Alastor held your hips, kissing your shoulders “darlin don’t force yourself…we can take it as slow as you need” he reassured.
A whimper met his ears and he let out a hiss as your tight warm walls sunk down on him, stopping just shy when met with resistance.
You took a deep breath as you plunged down, a cry leaving your throat “Aaah!”
You buried your face the groove of his neck, nails biting into his skin leaving angry marks.
You felt so full.
It was like you could barely breath, his cock filled every crevice and stretched you beyond limits.
Your fingers never felt like this.
You needed to move, to adjust and get accustomed to him being inside.
Your teeth found themselves bedded into Alastor’s flesh as you finally took the last few inches.
Your sweet husband made sure to soothe you, kissing you cheeks and lips, lavishing your chest in kisses as well, muttering positive affirmations.
”Oh my sweet girl”
”Youre doing so well”
”deep breaths baby, I got ya”
After a while, you let out a shaky moan as Alastor softly kneaded your flesh, before rolling his hips into yours. He groaned as you clenched around him, pupils dilating.
”I-I know we said we would go slow but my god cher, you feel so good”
He took it upon himself to slowly move you. Alastor had heard from other men that a woman’s pussy was like heaven on earth. He used to think they were exaggerating, but your warm, gummy walls hugged him perfectly.
He had been hard since he had tasted his wife. 
You were sweeter than any fruit he’s tasted. He would live between your thighs if he could.
He peppered your shoulder in kisses as he grinded into your heat.
”A-Al!” You whined, body buzzing with pleasure.
Soft moans and grunts filled the room as the two of you made love for the first time.
”Please Al oh my god please!” You moaned throwing your head back against the bed. Alastor was on top of you, head buried in your neck, soft grunts and growls pouring from his lips.
”You gonna cum for me baby?” He purred, hips snapping into yours, your legs wrapped around his waist.
You nodded as your cunt fluttered.
Alastor lifted his head to catch your lips, intertwining your hands.
”c-cum!c-cummin oh Oh fuck my god! A-Al..I’m gonna cum” you whimpered as the ball in your belly tightened.
Alastor smiled against your lips “Its okay. Just let it happen baby. C’mon. Cum on your husband’s cock. That’s it…fuck baby”
You saw white as your body seized. Your thighs trembled as you pulsed around his cock, orgasm ripping through you as you milked him of his first orgasm.
”Iloveyouoloveyouiloveyou” you chanted as Alastor rode out your orgasm, humming in amusement at his wife.
You twitched in sensitivity as his thrusts sped up before he stilled, groaning as he emptied his ball into you.
You both panted,chest heaving as you overcame the sensation of passion.
Alastor curled his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, making you sleepily blink at him
”Was that ok?” He asked nervous
You smiled, pressing a kiss over his heart sighing
”That was perfect” 
the two of you sat in bliss, just taking each other in.
”Al?” You muttered, making the man look down at you
”C-Can I suck your cock now?”
That made the man short-circuit. 
You looked up when you got no response only to see your husband sporting a nosebleed
”oh my god Al!”
He had a silly smile of his face
”I love you my dear”
You giggled, making him tilt his head back
”I love you too”
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callmemickey · 10 months
Text
Cumming Home for Christmas
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synopsis: Simon surprised you by being home 3 weeks early, which means you get to take him to your family’s Christmas get together! Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t had his fill of you… How thin do you think the walls are in the bathroom?
content: Afab, porn w a plot, smut (dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, quickie, slightly public? maybe other stuff idk) fluff fluff fluff kind of angst if you squint real hard he just loves you sm my sweet Angel babey reader muah love u 2
word count: 3.7k
notes: Don’t ask me why I chose Christmas this is purely self-indulgent. Also, he’s a brunette going off of the comics, so I’m running with that thx!
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Warm Christmas lights, sparkling ciders and the expensive alcohol, the soft hum of cozy Christmas jazz on the speakers, family buzzing and soaking in each other’s presence - there was nothing else you could ask for. In this massive sea of black and red formal attire, your family, both close and extended, came together for an amazing holiday party at your grandparents’ estate.
Simon, who surprised you by coming home over three weeks early, has accompanied you as your plus one to the family’s holiday party. It made the event even better. Your family adored Simon to bits and pieces, constantly embarrassing you in front of him, begging to know when he wanted to start a family with you, your aunts drinking too much and asking him to take off his coat and flex. He dealt with the melting pot of clashing personalities better than you had ever imagined.
Simon expertly handled the socializing carefully and precisely. He preferred to be an observer in these bigger settings rather than to speak. He gave simple answers that were concise one liners, saving his social battery. So, to make up for it, he would escape to assist anybody needing aid. When dinner was ready, he assisted in the kitchen, making sure that everybody had their meals first, and was later caught cleaning the kitchen (much to your displeasure). He also helped light your grandfather’s cigar outside. The Parkinson’s has been making it difficult for him to light them on his own, and Simon even listened to an old war story.
It was unbelievable how much you loved this man.
Now, nieces and nephews weaved between adults and furniture, the fireplace burned hot and strong, people laughed and yelled happily over the gentle music, and the scent of baking pies and pastries wafted and filled the air. Your lovely military fiancé, overworked and tired on his break, did so well to deal with this. Of course, Simon, being an incredibly selfless person willing to compromise in any situation or scenario just to make you happy, said that it was alright when you invited him. “Nothing would make me happier,” he had said in a low, roughened voice - which was right before he buried his face between your legs.
But I digress.
Simon stood next to you as your uncle told you both in absolute monotony about his recent trip to Italy, “So beautiful. Your aunt Amelia and I want to get a vacation home there.” He finished, and you nodded awkwardly. “Sounds like you and aunt Millie had a great time, uncle Mike.” Your tone was dry while Simon nodded and hummed in response. He just wasn’t… very present.
Simon had his attention and focus set on pretty high at the beginning of the night, but he was able to relax a little bit since then, to let himself just be in the moment - or so the psychiatrist says he should. He was actively paying attention to the conversation, yes that is true, but the hand holding your waist began to… wander, a little bit. Slowly at first, but much faster now. With a hand that started on your shoulder in the beginning of the night, bit by bit lowered down your back, smoothing above the top of your ass and to your hip. Fingers pressing deep into the black velvet of your dress, Simon tried to keep you caged next to him. That didn’t matter though, because you would have done little to resist him.
You two shared a quick glance. His dark brown eyes were slightly glossed, his gaze a salaciousness that he always brings home. Ooh, it made you want to rub your thighs together just to feel something. You nodded again to your uncle Mike when he brought up something else that was equally boring. Simon, having a better idea and use for his time, suddenly seemed to have remembered something, “Apologies, Mike, but Y/N and I have to make an important phone call.” You looked up at him.
That brief look in his eye was so, so hungry. The greed brewed like a dark storm. You felt a hot chill race down your spine, your core began to burn. You acted as if you remembered the same ‘something’ as well. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost forgot!” You gasped in a low voice. His fingers squeezed your hip, making your chest slowly fall into shallow breaths as you could imagine him purring in your ear.
Good girl.
You two waved him off as you turned to leave the kitchen. Simon took the wine glass from your hand and placed it on the countertops as you two walked through the doorway. His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you into the dark hallway. The armoire in the middle lit with warm candles that smelled of cinnamon and spiced apples, casting shadows that bounced and flickered across the walls. It helped light your way to the restroom, but it also kept you two enveloped in shadows to help hide whatever sins you were going to commit. Simon, without a word, opened the bathroom, and with nobody inside, he sweeped you in, locking the door behind you two.
The bathroom had warm string lights strung across the crown molding, and a window with fake candles sat high on the wall. The room was a little loud with the echoes, so you smacked the switch on the wall to turn the fan on, hoping to mask whatever sounds were going to flood the room.
Not even a second, in such a calculated move, Simon plucked his mask off and had your lips locked with his as he hoisted you onto the sink counter. All you could do in that flurry of movement was gasp, his hands gingerly holding your jaw as his mouth worked against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, sighing as you felt a hardened tent in his trousers press eagerly against your clothed cunt.
You ran your hands through his dark brown hair, a moan running from you into him as his hands gave your ass a harsh squeeze. He ground his hips into you, pulling a whimper from you as he pressed roughly against your thrumming clit. Simon broke from your mouth, kissing your neck as his fingers pushed up into your dress, grabbing your panties.
“Quiet - or they’ll hear us,” he whispered against your flesh. You panted with a nod as he slipped your panties off, tossing them onto the floor along with his jacket. Simon quickly unbuttoned his white sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his heavily veined forearms, his one arm tattooed with black. He expertly undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, his hardened cock springing free.
He kept kissing your neck, lightly sucking to tease but not enough to hickey or bruise. His fingers dipped into your embarrassingly wet sex, rubbing at your clit and folds before pushing two fingers into you. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, so wet already.” His voice was a growl against your neck, slowly pumping them, his fingers rubbing up against that spongy spot inside.
It caused you to mewl. Simon’s one hand jumped to cup your mouth shut, making you gasp. The movement threw you off balance, your upper back falling back to press against the mirror while grabbing onto his wrist for support. He continued to finger you and hold your mouth closed, your whimpers mumbled in his hand.
Just as quick as you just started grinding your hips, he pulled his fingers away. A disappointed moan left broken up between your mouth and his palm. Simon grabbed his cock and started to pump himself, lubricating it with your juices before rubbing against your clit. He moved his hand from your mouth down to your hip.
You whimpered, “Oh my god, Simon.” Your hips wriggled and bucked against the dizzying sensation. He chuckled, slowly pressing his cock into your hot, wet cunt. The familiar stretch made you hum in need. “You’re gonna tease me? On Christmas?” You whined, your legs once again wrapped around his hips, urging him to sink into you.
“Ahh, have you been a good girl, though?” He asked in a low rumble, his other hand grabbing the other hip, his prepared stance making your hole clench around his member. He had a half-lidded stare, swirling with a level of lust you couldn’t really see the end of - bottomless and ravenous. Simon towered over you.
“I’m always a good girl for you, Simon,” You cooed.
He slowly pushed in, making you inhale sharply as you stretched so wide to allow him to fit. You held your breath as he pushed his cock through. “I’m just teasing, love - I know you’ll always be my good girl,” he said with warmth in his voice.
His tip kissed your cervix as he nestled fully, deeply, completely. Your head rolled back on the mirror as a satisfied sigh escaped you, but Simon’s grip on your hips tightened intensely. You gasped as he began a fast pace, his hips slapping loudly against your thighs and echoing in the bathroom. It was almost too much. It gave you little time to prepare for his entering, but you settled nicely around him after a few more thrusts.
Simon wasn’t normally this fast. He loved to hit with hard strokes, but nothing typically of this pace. Fortunately, you weren’t one to complain. It was so goddamn good. You hate it when your fiancé is away, not knowing where he was for most of the time, but when he’s gone for so long and comes back? Fuck. It’s criminal how good the sex is. His impatience made it impeccable.
But you were desperate. You wanted to cry and moan and yell, to beg and pray for him to bring you to a higher plane of pleasure. Oh, God, you would do anything for it, anything for him. You grasped at his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving stinging crescent moon shaped imprints in their path. He groaned lightly at your sharp grip, a soft chuckle coming from him. “Oh, you like this?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lower lip to keep anything but your gasps, pants, and squeaks from escaping.
“Touch yourself,” his voice wasn’t harsh, but it was a demand.
With one hand still on Simon’s arm, the other moved to your clit, and you began to rub in quick circles. Simon watched your face twist and change: your mouth hanging open as you panted, but occasionally closed to bite your lip so to stop yourself from moaning; eyes half-lidded, barely open, glazed, and painfully horny; back bowing and arching, your toes curling, body just at a loss at what it can handle. This was Simon’s favorite view in the world. It’s what he came home for. It’s what he fought for.
A moan tumbled from your mouth as you held on for dear life. “S-Simon!” You whined his name, the heat inside of you burning red hot, uncontrolled, and rampant.
“S’alright love,” his voice was soft, “you gonna cum?”
You nodded quickly, the fingers on your clit stuttering as you found your release fast approaching, his almost brutal pace not slowing in the slightest. “I’m gonna c- ah- cum, Simon!” You struggled not to say too loud. “Don't stop!”
“Come on, Y/N,” he ushered, “cum for me.” Simon knew how to drive you over the edge. His hand reached out, firmly but gently cupping over your mouth to keep your head in place - and to push back your lascivious sounds.
A moan found itself trapped, lodged in your throat as you fought with your whole might not to yell and cry out. Your orgasm ripped through and crashed over you like a tsunami. He had unraveled you.
Your back arched, and you couldn’t roll your head back. Your lashes flickered as you struggled to keep your eyes from crossing or rolling back to look at Simon while you came. The fingers you had on your clit stopped moving as you were paralyzed, but the grip you had on his forearm stayed strong, “Ahhh, fuckin’ look at you. That’s a good girl, cummin’ nice and pretty on my cock. You like that, yeah?” He groaned, hips putting in more power to drill into your tightened pussy, tears pricking at your eyes as the orgasm left your legs shaking around him.
Simon retracted his hand, grabbing back at your hip. You let out a quick, small cry as your free hand held back onto his forearm. “Y’alright, love?” He grunted, and you nodded furiously before he could stop, but he started slowing down. You didn’t want him too. “Need- I need you,” you gasped, “don’t stop, Simon.” You whimpered.
Oh, to be buried deep inside your pussy was all he could have ever hoped for upon coming home. Y/N, ever so kind and giving. Simon tightened his hands around your hips again and began the brutal pace as you struggled to keep silent.
That’s when you felt your body heating up again. Your sex thrummed with the building pleasure and excitement once more, causing you to moan while you held onto his wrists. A light sheen of sweat sat on your skin, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your flesh.
Simon moaned softly with a smirk, your fucked out expression and legs lazily clinging onto his hips was such an amazing sight. The snapping of him against you had beat your pussy red, leaving it angrily aroused. “You gonna cum again? Yeah? Ahhh, thas my needy girl.” Desperate, tiny grunts popped out of you with each thrust, your pussy swallowing Simon deeply.
“Si-Simon! Gonna- c-cum!” You gasped out with each pump. 
Your orgasm hit like a rapid flash of heat and pleasure. A squeal escaped you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back, legs around Simon’s waist tightened, your whole body trembled from his unrelenting pace. Your face was flushed red, eyes completely glazed and lost as your hair stuck to your face.
“Ah, f-fuck, so fuckin’ tight. So good - my girl is so good, God, cummin’ on my cock, just like that.” He growled, his hips slowly beginning to fall off rhythm while his orgasm began to creep up on him.
You moaned and begged, “Ah, Simon, nngh, I-I can’t- please cum!”
“Don’t you worry, g-gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” Simon groaned, “gonna fill you up, yeah?”
You nodded furiously as your body screamed in overstimulation. “Please, I- ah! Too much, ah, you’re too much, Simon!” You cried out, your ever tightening cunt being stretched open, begging for his release.
“Y/N- Y/N, fuck!” He hissed as his hips slammed against you, tightly holding his cock against your cervix as if he was threatened to be ripped away. He groaned, emptying himself into you completely, his cock jerking and flexing harshly, making the veins on his shaft more pronounced. You whimpered, your cunt tensing around him as you felt hot waves shooting inside of you. He stayed for a moment while panting, his thighs shaking slightly, relishing in the feeling as oxytocin and dopamine flooded his brain. Simon pulled out, a throaty groan leaving you at the sudden emptiness, your legs letting go of him.
“Well… let’s hope nobody heard that.” Simon said in a low voice, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt and grabbing your panties for you. You slid off of the sink and inhaled sharply as your knees buckled. He immediately latched onto your arms, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, y’alright?” He asked, slowly loosening his grip to make sure you were okay on your own.
“My legs, Simon. Jesus Christian Christ - I can’t stand.” You huffed, leaning against the sink, glowering at him as you took your panties from his hand, embarrassed.
He unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them. “You’re really gonna talk like that? On Jesus’ birthday?” He looked at you as he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “What would your nan say, hmm?” He feigned sincerity, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he swung the jacket on.
“Well, the jokes on you because Christmas isn’t even Jesus’ birthday.” You snapped back at him, slowly sliding your underwear on as your knees shook like a newborn giraffe. He tutted in disapproval as he moved up to you.
Simon’s body was close, his body radiating warmth. He wasn’t one for a lot of physical affection, which was alright, so when he took the time to be attentive to you… you always melted against him immediately. His finger lightly hooked under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Your body subconsciously gravitated towards him, like a moth seeing the moon for the very first time.
He leaned down, lips brushing so close to yours, your eyes still connected . “Fuck what day it really is - I just know I’m home.” Simon pushed in for a deep kiss, brimming with emotions, the kinds he couldn’t really say. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but admire you.
The golden candlelight fluttered across his face. His tired but warm eyes studied you, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing and mapping every freckle, wrinkle, and spot, because he’s scared that the moment he looks away, he’ll forget. He took in your flushed, messy appearance as if God himself sent down a heavenly body to give him a reason not just to fight, but to live; an angel on its mission as a guide, and he would willingly martyr himself on the ground at your feet if it meant he could just hear you say his name. Once.
Simon wanted to say these things, but he wouldn’t. He might never. But that’s alright, too. Not everyone is meant to love so boldly.
You cocked an eyebrow as he stared at you so intensely. “You okay there, Lieutenant?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.
He realized that, yes, it was alright that he didn’t say those things. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have to - you just knew. Everyday he thought about how he didn’t deserve you. You, ever so loyal and strong. You’ve given him a purpose, motive, after all of these years - alone.
He often wondered what he had done to deserve having someone like you in his life. Someone who loved and cultivated, with hands of soft mercy, so tender and kind. A voice of validation, honesty, reason, all stemming from your unconditional love. If he had met you years ago, before the therapy and psychiatry helped, he would’ve let your fingers prick and bleed as you grasped at his thorns while he plucked you of your petals, leaving you broken and bare.
He didn’t deserve you.
Simon returned the smile, his voice soft, “Never better.” His hands moved to hold your waist as you two shared a few more kisses. “You know I like it when you call me that,” he hummed in between the lip locking.
You moaned gently and teasingly bit his bottom lip, your hands pressing against and gliding up his shirt. You kissed his jawline and sighed, “Is that so, Lieutenant Riley?”
He squeezed your waist in a warning. “Careful, love, we don’t have time for round two. Save it for tonight.” Your pussy purred just as Simon pulled away, picking up the mask from the sink and putting it back on in an attempt to obscure his identity.
You hummed, legs still a little shaken. “Well, I might need a minute to get my feet under me. You… okay with managing my family alone?” You asked hesitantly, eyes slightly squinting as if to flinch. He studied you for a moment, eyes glancing you up and down. It made you a little self-conscious, causing you to shift.
“Of course, Y/N,” his tone was reassuring, and subtly professional, “you sure you want me to leave you? Just say the word, love.”
Your body relaxed a little, and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”
Simon faltered, if for a moment, before he gave you a soft squeeze on the arm, and left. You sighed, turning to lean onto the counter and fix your hair in the mirror. Your legs really were shaking, much to your surprise. Yes, yes, Simon makes you shake plenty, but he doesn’t always fuck that hard, if rarely. You couldn’t be more embarrassed. Sending your fiancé, who is not the biggest people-person, back to the wolves, but it’d be more embarrassing if you walked out there in your current state.
You fixed your dress and made sure you were able to stand properly again after a few minutes. Making sure your hair, makeup, and dress were all still together, you left the bathroom with caution. You quietly snuck down the hallway, back against the wall. You got to the doorway and peeked around the corner to peer into the party.
You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom for as the crowd surprisingly died down. Family members left for home, hotels, or whatever bedrooms your grandparents had available, so the end-of-the-night afterparty was intimate and calm. You inched into the room, eyes falling on Simon, who was outside with your grandfather, lighter in his hand.
You smiled gingerly as your mother called you over. “Sweetie, everybody loves Simon. I know he isn’t much of a talker, or a hugger, but he made a great impression.” Her voice was filled with warmth and happiness, and she spoke in a hushed tone. “He also listens to your grandfather’s stories, bless his heart.” She cooed. Your mother continued to speak, but her voice drowned out as you watched your future husband.
Simon stood at ease, with his hands held together and relaxed behind him as your grandfather engaged him in a story, puffing his cigar shakily as his hands trembled while he was animated. It was so calm and serene, watching him nod, the ghost of his jawline moving beneath the mask as he spoke. Your heart fluttered as Simon’s eyes flicked over and locked onto you, giving a little wink before turning his attention back to the present conversation.
Okay, you’re definitely sitting on his face tonight.
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