Tumgik
#maybe this time he won't reach out again
sysig · 21 days
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You’re gonna die if you keep that up (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#ZEX#Kayako#And Teisel's there technically#*Die again - he's sticking with his track record lol at least he's consistent#Ghost/Curse GF arc!! I enjoy seeing ZEX happy but I am Concerned for him lol#ZEX be attracted to something/one that won't brutally murder him challenge - difficulty impossible#His affection for the grotesque and monstrous - I mean while it's admirable he does regularly put himself in dangerous situations!#Runs solely on the Suspension Bridge Effect lol - attraction and fear so conflated in his mind <3#I keep thinking of his human instincts as specifically Max's instincts since it's his body - Max's self-preservation and fear and hunger#Which ZEX dutifully ignores lol Max's body tells him to bolt and privately replies like ''Yes yes in a moment'' haha#His fascination wins out! To his own detriment haha#Although I say all that as though I don't relate in my own way - I have maybe just a few too many notes relating to ZEX lol#It's always been hard for me to get into horror in the way it's intended to spook and scare because I tend to get sad :')#So many monsters and ghosts and creatures are victims of circumstance! Like Kayako! As she is here she's not even malicious just dangerous#I've never seen the Grudge so it's only speculation but it seems very sad that she was tethered as a Curse rather than a malignant spirit#Like a battery moreso than an individual - what a terrible after-existence! It makes me sad to consider!#ZEX reaching out to her in his own way is very sweet <3 He's so biased towards his darlings hehe#In a way being human does suit him - we'll packbond with anything that Might have even the slightest inclination to not maim us lol#And the way he personifies her! (VUXonifies her?) Reading intention or emotion into her actions with no proof and no understanding!#The way he ''tries to read her face'' as if he hasn't been struggling with that this entire time - with other humans who can tell him so ♪#His pride is so delicious <3 He is so easily blinded to his own shortcomings in the face of pleasure and the potential for connection!#It's no wonder DAX worries about him so much hehe ♥#It also always makes me so happy to have something fit together so perfectly like those last two hehe <3#That vine didn't exist when this happened! But there it is!! I love newer memes on older media hehehe ♪♫
12 notes · View notes
sant-riley · 5 months
Text
[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]
Tumblr media
(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))
Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.
Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3
Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)
Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!
Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.
Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.
Price:
Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.
John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.
John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.
John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.
A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.
If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.
He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.
The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.
The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"
Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)
He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.
Ghost:
Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.
Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.
Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.
However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.
Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).
He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."
Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.
He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.
I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.
On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.
Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans
This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.
Soap:
Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.
Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)
Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.
Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).
I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-
Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.
You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.
Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.
He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.
Gaz:
Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.
His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.
The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.
"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"
When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.
I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.
He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.
He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.
Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.
He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.
8K notes · View notes
hohuios · 9 months
Text
Tag drop: 2/2
#[ visage. ] you know another man as good looking as i am? the correct answer is no; by the way.#[ mini study. ] is it decided from when we're born then? ones born without much power are fated to be stamped out by you?#[ meta. ] one who's let his soul rot can't measure up to someone with a real soul just by getting power. that's not how it works down here.#[ essence. ] it’s a cruel and random world. and yet the chaos is all so beautiful.#[ humans. ] you think humans are weak. yeah; their bodies lack the physical ability of demons; but they posses something that demons don't.#[ demons. ] he understands love; so he'll make it fine as a human. the only things i choose to exterminate are demons.#[ rebellion. ] i always wondered; why did my father give me the rebellion? if the yamato can separate man from devil…#[ sword of sparda. ] he split his power in three parts. one bore his own name; the second blade was named to embody retaliation...#[ yamato. ] ... and the final blade was named to embody a god of death.#[ sparda. ] why do you refuse to gain power? the power of our father sparda? / father? i don't have a father.#[ eva. ] she loved humanity; a demon and her children. it's far out of reach now; that warm smile from my childhood.#[ vergil. ] jackpot! -- why you gotta leave me hangin'? we used to love saying that. / i have no recollection.#[ nero. ] i should thank you. / that'd be out of character. maybe you should just throw an insult my way instead. / that sounds better.#[ patty. ] well patty; if I'm not mistaken this is one time that i might owe you a little thank you.#[ trish. ] if you get sick of it; you can always come back here. / why that's uncharacteristically kind of you.#[ lady. ] can i come along? / do what you want. but don't expect to get paid.#[ morrison. ] damn; you make me wait forever and then you go making selfish requests. / sorry.#[ v. ] for a second there I thought you were gonna shish kabob me. / i know how stubborn you can be.#[ mundus. ] again i must face a sparda. strange fate; isn't it? / strange and ironic that it will end the same way.#[ syd. ] well then strong and gentle lord dante of the 'real soul.' you'll let me live even now; won't you? just like you did before.
1 note · View note
werecreature-addicted · 8 months
Note
🥲 a werewolf mercilessly fucking someone while apologizing for being too rough, but not being able to stop. :( pussydrunk werewolves my beloveds…
pussy drunk werewolf. what will he do
Before he even gets you naked your werewolf can smell your yummy pussy from a mile away, he knows when you're wet almost before you do. Poor baby is left licking at your belt begging you to please let him eat you out he promises he'll do a good job :(
It’s only a second after you give your consent that your clothes are shredded with their massive claws. You might be allowed to keep your shirt on if he's feeling generous he only really wants access to your sweet cunt anyways.
His big claws dig into your thighs pushing your legs apart and giving him access to what he's after. It feels like he's trying to fuck you with his tongue the way he digs it into you, his nose bumping and rubbing against your clit in his desperate attempt to get his tongue deeper into your cunt.
100% the kinda man to eat pussy for his pleasure, not yours. He doesn't even notice when you cum the first time... or the second. he's just so obsessed with the way you taste, the way you squeeze around his fat tongue.
If he's smart- he'll shove a pillow between his legs to hump. but if he lets his instincts win he'll just pathetically buck his hips into the air while he eats you up.
Really the only way to get him to come up for air is to beg him to knot you. Tell him that you need to feel his cock where his mouth is.
"Are you sure you can take it? you were so tight around my tongue and my cock is much bigger..."
He's suddenly sadistic, he'd be happy to eat you out for hours, if you want more than that he's going to need convincing. He won't use his big fingers on you, you have to stretch yourself out for him. Prove how much you want his dick, beg for him to fuck you deep in the parts you can't reach with your pathetic human hands.
Whatever prep work you manage won't be enough. It hurts as he pushes into you, but the sting makes your mouth water. He wasn't planning on giving you time to adjust but you're literally so tight around his cock he can't move. It takes a surprising amount of strength to pull back from the vice-like grip of your cunt. Don't worry sweet thing he'll fuck you loose.
"s-slow down. I can't! it's too much!" you whimpered. But he can't stop now- the way your cunt spasms around him sucks him in, it's like his hips have a mind of their own as he fucks you. His clawed hands fall to your hips pinning you against the bed with his weight. He's so much bigger, so much stronger than you what choice do you have but to take it?
"Sorry, I know- I know it's a lot but-fuck baby you feel so good. I can't stop I'll just cum real quick then we can be done- I'll just knot this tight pussy then I'll feel good-"
His string of apologies soon becomes incoherent babbling and snarling. You feel so good around him that he can't help but give in to his instincts. And his instincts are telling him to pound you until you go colorblind.
He leans down and licks your face, drinking your tears of overstimulation before he buries his face in the crook of your neck and bites down on your shoulder- through the shirt he let you keep on back when he just wanted to eat your pussy.
"sorr- sorry- fuck I'm sorry baby-" he cries out in warning as his thrusts pick up speed and he forces his knot inside your already full cunt as his seed pours into you.
Even as his cock goes soft and his knot goes down he doesn't pull out, he keeps his hips flush against yours as he holds you close. your pussy just feels too good to leave. so warm and perfect for him.
He'll give you a little time to catch your breath- maybe he'll even let you fall asleep but if you do just know you'll wake up with his tongue deep in you once again.
6K notes · View notes
nkogneatho · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄- 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
—cw: fem!reader, male and female masturbating, fingering, fistfucking, pillowfucking (put me in a cage pls), desperate gojo because i'll never shut up about that. not proofread.
—a/n: i wish his seiyuu had an asmr channel just like nanami's so this drabble would've been longer. enjoy though <33
Tumblr media
You're used to stalking the social media of people you go out with. It comes naturally. Well you live alone in this city, and you sure as hell don't want to stumble across a creep with no defense. You never know what's crippling it's way across this sinful city at night. The questionable news reports just added the oil to the fire of your anxiety. So it was natural that tonight, you were stalking another one of your dates. Gojo Satoru. You knew he was pretty popular when those hand had to leave yours to dap or fist bump his peers on your first date. It's almost as if fifty percent of the city knew him, like a celebrity. If he was really so popular, it would be easy to dig up info about him.
That's what led to you eagerly scrolling past his Instagram, flipping through each highlight as if you were a child who just found the greatest comic book.
party,
party,
and parties.
it was like his mantra the way his entire feed was just him dancing under the influence, in outfits too expensive and champagne to rich. He bathed in the luxury and the people around him were pleasuring off the drops sprinkling. So perfect that he had everyone wrapped around his finger. But won't he do the same to you? Overpower you. All those riches and he decided to go out with you, just so he could make you one of his whores, you were sure about that.
"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, tossing your phone away. "Guess i'll have to use my hand again."
You opened your laptop, went incongnito typing the first letter, but your autocorrect knew better. It's like it has memorised what you do at this hour. But autocorrect works on algorithms so you were sure it's your fault that you visit the site so frequently.
The porn website was open and you clicked on search button, specifically typing "hot men jerking off webcam." It was one of your favorite things to watch.
You scrolled through the popular videos you had already watched maybe a million times. There was a reason they were popular. So you just changed the filter and selected "new to old". After rummaging through some of the boring videos, your eyes landed on the preview of one with the most beautiful cock. longest even. Curiously, you click on it. The video starts with the man rubbing his boner through the boxers. You put a hand inside your panties, and all you want right now is for him to take his boxers off. After a few minutes, he does and his long light peach cock springs out. when he leans back, your eyes do a double take.
is that gojo fucking satoru??
And indeed it was. The man who earlier gave you the rich spoiled misogynistic son vibes was now moaning like a slut, begging his viewers to ride their imaginary pussy. He had zero shame. Although...why didn't you log out?? Why did you not switch to some other video?
Because holy shit he is fistfucking his cock like an animal in heat. The chair is shaking and making squeaking noises but fuck who cares about that. Listen to his moans. His fucking whimpers. He changed his placement and now he was on the bed, had the pillow folded in half only to start ramming his dick into it. God! Is this the real Gojo Satoru? Is this what he is? A camboy whoring his body out. Because he has generational wealth so there's no way he is foung that for money. So the only logical answer is because he is such a fucking pussywhore that his exhibitionist cock only cums when there are others watching it.
Your fingers starts vigorously pumping in your cunt. They weren't long enough to reach and you were actually wishing Satoru was fucking you instead of that pillow because look. Look at that long dick. Look at the pretty flushed tip with his precum glistening. Fuck, how'd he taste on your? Sweet? Sour? But you know it would taste warm and filthy for sure.
The man in the screen increases his pace and so do you, imitating him. you want to cum at the same time. you want to see what his cum looks like on the gray pillowcase. your middle finger starts stimulating your clit even more while Satoru in the screen is now snapping his hips rougly against the bed, in the pillow. you imagine yourself in the position. Prone Bone. Never tried it but if it is what he is doing, then you're sure as hell down. It's the way his thrusts can be heard banging against the wood under the mattress even if there's not skin for his to slap against. compared to what other camboys do, talk about how they're going to ruin your dirty little pussy, gojo's is different. he does say he'll ruin your pussy but it's hotter because it is followed by endless pleas.
"fuck—lemme ruin this pussy—anh! please, yeah? gonna make you feel so good, baby please?" almost as if he is actually fucking someone. and you don't think twice before assuming he is talking to you. It's okay to be delusional sometimes. Specially when his words make you cum so hard, that you are whining at the lack of more girth to clench around. you look at the screen and Satoru came too. And he was whimpering. Like actually whimpering because it felt so good. Hot strings of cum now soaked in the pillow. Shit.
When you come back from the bathroom after washing yourself, you hear a notification. you pick up your phone to find a "Free tomorrow night?" from the same man who indirectly made you cum so hard tonight. And after what you saw today, you would be a fucking idiot to miss a chance like this.
"Yeah, Of course. Can't wait to see you tomorrow."
*Sent*
7K notes · View notes
cream-stew · 5 months
Note
How about monsterfcking with Neuvillette? Him in his dragon form pounding and breeding reader's pussy until his cum leaks out and when Neuvillette saw his cum leaking out he tries to push it back in using his thick fingers but it just won't stay inside, a lot of his cum wasted so he fucked Reader full again with a new batch of cum and cockwarmed him after their down<3
(What if after they have sex, Neuvillette carries Reader to the bathroom to clean both of them and Neuvillette still inside of Reader but ended up fucking when Neuvillette and Reader are inside of the bathtub)
Sorry if my grammar is wrong! English is my third language hehe and I'm still learning
Tumblr media
🔞minors dni
warnings: afab reader, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, tummy bulge, size kink, mosterfucking
// note: no worries anon I could understand perfectly <3 thank you for the request this was fun
Tumblr media
he's bigger than you even in his more human form, but like this, arms and legs covered in light blue scales, thick horns crowning his head, he's just. huge. straight up huge. he has you in a mating press and your face can barely reach his pecs, your legs can't even hook on his shoulders, they're ramrod straight as he grips your ankles in his big hands.
his cock is a really tight fit too... your pussy is stretched to the limit as he pounds into you, leaving you gaping each time he pulls out before slamming back inside with full force. now you can really understand why he decided to fuck you on the floor this time, putting down soft blankets and pillows so that you'd still be comfortable, but simply refusing to do it on the bed: he would have destroyed it in minutes, his strength and stamina in his half dragon form is insane!
when he finally cums inside you, when you're well on your way to a fourth orgasm, you think maybe he'll calm down a little but nope... he just changes tactics, never pulling out completely again, bc he doesn't want his cum to leak out of you :(
he keeps fucking you with really shallow thrusts, just as fast as he did previously, praising and encouraging you to just hold on for "a little longer" bc he needs to cum again, to claim you fully and stuff your cute little pussy to the brim :(
your eyes are tearing up a lil by then, but it feels so good that you can't find it in you to complain... so you let him pump you full one, twice more, until you hear him grumble and mutter something under his breath, until his huge fingers replace his monstrous cock, trying to fuck the cum back inside you. "what a waste" he complains. in his lustful haze he doesn't understand that your pussy is way too small to hold on to all that cum, so the only solution he can find is to fuck you again...
except this time, after pounding into you so so roughly, making you squirt on his cock for who knows how many times, he doesn't pull out after cumming... he just makes you cockwarm him, thinking that there's no way it'll leak out if he keeps your pussy sealed off like that!
it's hours before he allows you to move, but he still doesn't let you go, carrying you to the bathroom with his rock hard cock still buried snugly against your cervix, an evident bulge in your tummy. he summons enough warm water to fill the tub before lowering the both of you inside, effectively making you straddle his hips as the new position allows his cock to reach even deeper inside your womb.
it'd be relaxing, the warm water soothing your sore muscles, if he didn't grab you by the hips to move you back and forth on his cock :/ he uses you like a fleshlight, bouncing you up and down and jerking off inside your pussy as you desperately clutch to his shoulders, moaning and babbling, and when he doesn't stop even after cumming one more time inside, you just accept that you're going to fall asleep in his arms, and he's probably going to keep fucking you through it until you wake up in the morning🥺🥺
7K notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 1 month
Note
Imagine if Rafe let R try a joint
Like, her brains getting all fuzzy and she's even more giggly than usual, and he's just, like enamoured. He thinks she's adorable.
Tumblr media
"one hit, that's it-" rafe says, low and quiet in your ear.
you're curled up on his lap at the party, both of you resting on the couch while you observe the scene around you with big eyes. rafe's friends were snorting powder off of mirrors, washing it down with liquor that was definitely harder than the fruity seltzer your boyfriend allowed you to drink. rafe said you couldn't handle anything harder, and you agreed without questioning him, like you always did.
you had pointed to the white lines on the table infront of you and asked him as sweetly as you could if you could try some. kelce overheard you and starts pushing the mirror in your direction, and you look at him with a smile, before rafe stares him down and delivers a tap to your cheek. it's just to get your attention, not really to hurt you, but you feel your face flushing where he touched you when he speaks.
"hey, you don't listen to him, you listen to me, right?" you see kelce in the corner of your eye, taking the tray back and offering it to the girl next to him.
"i know, i just-"
"no, no just anything. y'can barely drink this watered-down crap without trippin' over your feet." he rests back on the sofa, hands gripping your waist and leg tightly. "wants to snort coke. you're funny, kid."
you pout, taking another sip of your drink. you're only half way through the can but your head is starting to feel fuzzy, already. you decide then and there that rafe always knows best for you, but you still want to try the things he tries, show him that you can handle it. the boys next to rafe pass a blunt over you, directly to him. when they blow out the smoke, you start coughing, but watch carefully as your boyfriend takes a long hit. just as he's about to pass it across to kelce, you catch his wrist.
"can i try that instead? please?" you try your best to straighten up, to show him you can take it and that you're not already drunk. "please," you whine, and his friends turn their head to look. you're sure that they think it's silly, the way you have to ask rafe for permission for everything and anything. you don't care, though.
"kid, stop-"
"i can take it, promise. just this time. i won't ever ask again."
that's how you had ended up like this, rafe talking into your ear while he holds the blunt to your lips.
"alright, suck in. long as you can. you're a pro at that, aren't ya?" his words make you lose your concentration, breaking into a coughing fit before you can even try to inhale.
"rafe!" you whine again, pummeling your fists into his chest, still choking on the smoke. your throat feels scratchy but you know that couldn't have been enough.
"what, kid, i gotta do everything for you?" he takes a long hit, and then grips your cheeks with his hand, forcing your mouth open and then blowing the smoke into your throat for you. then he clamps it shut, holds your shoulder while you cough, and passes the blunt along to kelce.
you cough a little, but before long, you're putty in his arms, leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling at nothing. you poke at his chest and then start playing with his chain, then his hair, and then back down to his fingers. he lets you do it, watching you play with his ring and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you're cute like this, he thinks, less shy and not as worried what everyone must think about you. he thinks he likes it, that maybe he should let you smoke with him every once in a while.
"feel good, baby?" he asks in your ear, and you squirm in his touch, pulling away before resting your head again.
"mhm. really good. this is fun. wish it wasn't a crime." he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. you try to copy him, reaching for your seltzer but knocking it over by accident.
"oops," you say with another laugh. "sorry to-wait, whose house is this?"
"c'mon kid, makin' a mess," he groans, picking up the can and watching the fizzy liquid travel.
"sorry, daddy." in your state, you don't realize how loud you said it, but even with everyone's eyes on you, you don't care much, smiling back sweetly at rafe.
"alright, we're leavin'."
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
sednas · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i wanted to write something nasty but it ended up being quite sweet, don't blame me i just need love
⠀ૈ☆ ex-husband nanami x fem!reader
𓏲 ࣪₊♡ tw: [n]sfw, breeding kink, jealousy, possessiveness, fluffy ending
Tumblr media
it only took one look, just one look across the room full of guests to reignite something that had never really been extinguished.
nanami's grip around his glass of wine got a little tighter, his eyes flashing at you and his heart starting to beat fast.
he became more muscular since your divorce, his shoulders looked stronger, carrying him with much more confidence and charisma than before.
maybe he finally quit his shitty job, you thought to yourself, trying to act cool as you saw him coming closer...
yeah he definitely quit his job, you think to yourself again, laying on your back while his cock is splitting you open.
"I missed you so much my love..."
familiar goosebumps hit your skin and his hands slide along the curves of your waist, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.
all you can do is take it, unfocused eyes watching your ex-husband thrusting inside your dripping pussy. nanami grunts, his body pressed against your own, his breath fanning over your neck, and you can't help but moan his name and wrap your legs around his hips, trying to meet his thrusts.
"'missed you too kento..." you try to speak, your hands reaching out to hold his face.
you missed everything about him, the warmth of his skin, his cologne scent, how messy his blond hair gets when you run your hands through it, and the way he knows every single one of your weak spots.
he never fucked you this hard in the past, of course he was rough sometimes, but you can tell something has changed, snapped.
not that you're complaining about it.
your back arches off the bed, making his pelvic bone touch your spasming clit.
"this time I'm not letting you go angel..."
his eyes get darker, thinking about the potential men and women who had you since your divorce, it makes him fuck you harder, deeper.
"mine..." he whispers, more to himself than for you to hear.
he takes your hands to pin them above your head and smiles when he hears you whine.
"you're gonna cum angel?" he asks, not slowing down his thrusts.
he knows you by heart, and he smiles when you nod, his mouth starting to suck on the soft skin of your neck, marking you.
"that's okay, I'm gonna cum too..." he says, and you can feel his hot breath hitting your skin.
he keeps rubbing your sweet spot, completely lost in the feeling. god he missed that feeling, you're the only one who can make him lose his mind like that, he can't believe he let you go when you're this perfect.
"you're still not on birth control?"
and he smiles again when he sees you shake your head. so perfect.
"gonna put a baby in you yeah? gonna make you a mom... will you let me angel?"
you mindlessly nod your head, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, your whole body is trembling and you feel his cock twitches inside of you.
"please... breed me..." you sweetly asks, and he can't deny you.
your vision gets blurry, your eyes roll back and you violently cum around his cock as he does the same in you, still thrusting to push his cum deeper. you both stays silent for a few seconds, nanami's head buried in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent, closing his eyes of content when he feels your hands rubbing his back.
"I love you, I've never stopped loving you, even after six years..." he whispers, his voice sounding almost vulnerable as he kisses your shoulder.
you ruffle his hair, and you whine a little as you can feel his cock still pushing against your cervix.
"I'm here now, I won't leave."
he hums, his arms wrapping around your waist and you can feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.
this time you both won't let go of each other.
Tumblr media
jjk masterlist
10K notes · View notes
goodbird1 · 3 months
Text
My firecracker
Alastor x fem reader
Word count: 634
Summary: Charlie learns about Alastor wife.
Warnings: mention of death and murder (please tell me if I miss any)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹🥀🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Alastor stood on a balcony overlooking the city. The hotel was celebrating for some reason or another he didn't particularly care. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a locket. Unclasping it reveals an image of a woman.
“I thought doing this would make me feel better in some way, or at least dull the pain for the time being” Alastor began, looking down at the locket. “It was foolish of me to think that would happen. It's happening all over again, and I don't think I have a chance to see you again.”
Tears started swelling in his eyes. Quickly pulling out a handkerchief and wiping them away.
“You know I always took you as someone who likes entertainment and parties are pretty entertaining” Charlie said coming out on the balcony.
“Oh I'm just getting some fresh air, it's far too stuffy in there” Alastor replied, shoving the locket back in his coat. Not before Charlie notices.
“What's that?” Charlie said, reaching out.
Instinctively Alastor slapped Charlie's hand away, holding the locket even closer now. Towering over her with a cruel look on his face, he saw the fear in her eyes. Normally he'd relish in it but this was no sight he wanted to see on charlie. Signing he pulled out the locket again shifting it through his fingers.
“My apologies dear,” he said, turning back to the city. “I didn't mean to snap, it's a locket with my wife's photo in it, it's the only thing I have left of her.”
“You never told me you were married,” Charlie said, coming to Alastor's side.
“I don't much like to talk about it” Alastor signed.
“Can I ask, what was she like?” Charlie questioned.
“Oh she was wonderful” He began. “She was a firecracker, always 3 steps ahead of everyone. Beat you in any game and once you thought you had the upper hand she'd pull the rug right out from your feet. She was kind and considerate, and believed in second chances. She'd taught me that. And oh she could sing like an angel. I would play the piano, she would sing and the world would fade away.”
“She sounds amazing, you know maybe if you redeem yourself you can see her again in heaven!”
“Haha oh darling, anybody worth knowing comes down here!” Alastor said between laughs. “She would always tell me she would rather burn in hell with me than sit alone in heaven. Did you know that our fathers decided to put us together to ‘contain our unnatural behavior’? And she came up with a plan to kill both our families and then burn the evidence! Oh it was then I knew she was the one.”
Memories started flooding back when they were both alive and then both died. But this time they didn't hurt so much now.
“What happened to her?” Charlie asked, bring Alastor back to reality.
“The first or the second time?” Alastor joked trying not to spiral.
“Both?” She whispered hesitantly.
“The first time she was in a tree, mistaken for a bird and shot down the fall was what killed her. The second time…” Alastor choked clutching the locket for dear life. Clearing his voice he started again. “Well you don't make it as far as I have without making a few enemies. They sent her back in pieces.”
“That's awful!” Charlie exclaimed.
“No need to worry they won't hurt anyone now.” Signing, he stepped away from the edge. “Come on dear, let's join the party.”
“Hey Al, can I ask one more thing?”
“And what would that be?”
“Do you think she would have liked the hotel?”
Turning fully around to face Charlie. A kind smile across his face with a hand reaching out for her.“Oh she would love it.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹🥀🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3K notes · View notes
appocalipse · 29 days
Text
that guy ⊹ steve harrington
summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.
It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.
To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.
You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.
"Hi."
You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"
"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."
A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.
How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?
You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.
"So...not the one, I take it?"
Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.
"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"
The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."
Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.
"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."
"She does."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."
"At least you have one."
He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"
You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.
What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.
Until it wasn't.
"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."
"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."
Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"
You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."
"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"
Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.
Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.
"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."
"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.
Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"
"You...don't know him," you hedge.
"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."
"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."
Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."
The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.
You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."
"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.
You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?
You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.
"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."
Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.
The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.
No, you aren't going to cry.
This is stupid.
You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.
When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.
You don't have to look up to know that it's him.
"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.
"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.
"You look just fine to me."
You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."
He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.
"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.
You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.
"I should've never asked. That was selfish."
"Forget it," you say.
He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.
You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.
"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."
"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."
"Yup. Exactly. In there."
"So you said."
"Yep."
The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—
He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.
"Okay, so—"
You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.
He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."
You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.
"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"
"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."
"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"
He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.
"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."
"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.
"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."
"Steve."
"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."
"Steve—"
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.
Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.
"Is this okay?" he whispers.
"I don't—what?"
Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.
"This," Steve murmurs.
He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."
"I think I am."
His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.
"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"
You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.
"Yes. It's you."
A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.
You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."
A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.
"Oh yeah?"
"Completely."
You kiss him this time.
1K notes · View notes
whateveriwant · 1 year
Text
Not With a Bang but a Whimper
Summary: Simon has a tendency to be quiet in bed. But maybe, just maybe, you can get him to break his silent streak for once.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings: language, SMUT 18+ (vaginal sex)
A/N: Hello! So we all agree that Ghost's voice is hot, right? And so the thought of him moaning; the filth he'd grunt in your ear… Ugh, I just had to write a little something that would scratch that itch Ghost inflicts on my brain. As always, I hope you enjoy! :)
Tumblr media
There's something about the darkness, the vast visual emptiness, that heightens all of one's other senses.
The tang of sweat. The scratch of sheets. The rhythmic, wet thwapthwapthwap of skin against skin.
They all come together to create a harmonious symphony of the flesh that overrides the benefit of sight, though you're sure that wouldn't detract. 
And it's perfect, really. All of it. You wouldn't change a single, microscopic detail. Except, well… Perhaps…
Simon's breath fans warm across your face, a shaky exhale that hardly sounds as it passes through his lips. There's an intake, a pointed swallow, the thick gulp of exchanged air, but then not half a second later he's right back to it – a grave-like silence worthy of his namesake.
In all the time you've been together, you've never known Simon to be a very talkative man. Sure, once he's comfortable around someone, he tends to open himself up more. But for the most part, he's never been one to speak beyond that which is necessary – a fact you'd long known and come to accept. And yet, despite this truth, somehow, you would've never predicted the Ghost's deathly silence extended to the bedroom as well.
Aside from harried breaths and the occasional throaty grunt, Simon might as well be a mute for how much sound he emits whilst between the sheets. And beyond those baser noises, what few words he has said have always been blunt; directional. 'Roll over. Hands here. Arse up.' and the like.
Of course, the case could be made that you make enough noise for the both of you combined – a circumstance you know Simon doesn't mind one bit. But still, hearing Simon's own unsuppressed enthusiasm is a fantasy you've not yet made reality, a dream you haven't seen come true.
But who says you won't ever?
A deep thrust has your back bowing off the bed, your mouth falling open in an airy moan. Another drive forward and you're clenching eagerly around him, restless hands kneading the wide, muscled expanse of his shoulders. 
In and out, deliberate and methodical, he drags his thick cock along your walls. Gradually, mind-numbingly, the even tempo of his hips stokes a heat within your belly, and you try arching up to meet him, building the flames higher and higher.
As you rock, a low, droning moan tumbles past your parted lips, underlining the measured creaks of the bedsprings, the noisy rattle of the headboard. Simon hits a spot within you that leaves you gasping, panting, and your desperate hands seek purchase higher, sliding up the sweat-slicked line of his neck. 
Reaching the soft, damp hairs of his exposed nape, your fingers find home, threading carelessly through the tousled strands at the back of Simon's head. Another drive of his hips has you inadvertently tugging downwards, and suddenly, as he's pulled towards you, you hear the sweetest noise flowing past your ears.
A groan.
Just a small one, hardly above a whisper, but it's rich and it's coarse and it's oh-so-deliciously-deep.
But before it can swell to something more, Simon's burying his face in the top of your chest, smothering the sound to extinction. 
No! Not again. Not if you can help it.
"Simon," you whine, lifting his head back up to yours. Though you can't quite make out his eyes in the darkness, you know he can still see you; still read you plain as day. "Please. W-Wanna hear you. Let— Let me hear you."
Maybe it's pointless – maybe it's pathetic – but you'll never know if you don't at least try.
Unfortunately, he remains woefully quiet despite your pleas – a few desperate cries not enough to dismantle years of practiced silence. Either that or he just wants to hear you beg some more, which you wouldn't necessarily put past him, but you hope he's not so cruel when you're this wanting.
Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you bring him even closer, lips brushing aching lips. You just want him to let go, to break free from whatever's holding him back, to shrug off those internal bonds keeping his voice hostage.
"Let it out, Si. Please." Please please please please please.
Unthinkingly, you squeeze your grip tighter, pressing your nails down just enough to pinch. Honest to God, it was unintentional on your part, but then suddenly, miraculously, euphorically, it's like the floodgates open all at once.
An unfiltered moan rolls through Simon's throat – low and timorous at first, just edging past reluctant, before it rises in intensity, volume steadily increasing, ultimately peaking in a stuttered curse.
"Oh, fffuck," Simon husks to himself, thighs clapping firmly against the cradle of your legs. "Fuck, pet, y— you're—" his words dissolve as you clamp down around him, the keening sound of your voice mingling with his own.
The moment Simon let down his restraints, your reaction was near-instantaneous – skin prickling, toes curling, hairs standing at full attention. This, THIS, is what you've been waiting for – for Simon to reveal what's been hidden beneath that hardened shell of his. And it's so much better than you ever possibly imagined.
Simon grabs at you hungrily, like now that he's let loose, he can't get enough of you. "Feel so fuckin' good. So fuckin' wet." He snaps his hips a little bit faster, emphasizing the obscene squelch of your cunt.
Already you can tell you're addicted to this new side of him; it's honestly embarrassing how a minor change can make you unravel so quickly. Well, at least, you would be embarrassed if you could find the strength to care. Or really, find the strength to feel anything other than surging, dripping ecstasy.
A calloused, firm thumb makes its way to your clit, and a sharp cry bursts forth from your chest, your head craning way back. Simon nips at your jaw as he circles his thumb expertly, swirling your slick around and around until you're trembling beneath him.
"That feel good, yeah? That what you like?" he questions, perhaps with double meaning.
As you try to speak, you find you've lost your voice in the process of Simon recovering his own. Thus, all you can do is nod emphatically, hitching your legs up higher on his hips to urge him on.
You feel him chuckle against your throat at your nonverbal response. Clearly, he's enjoying himself as much as you are, the cheeky Brit.
Your tongue is utterly paralyzed as you let Simon unleash on you, only able to let out small squeaks and strangled whines as you take the full force of his vigor. Your hips pang, thighs ache, and stomach clenches as he slams into you over and over again. The smack of his balls against your ass carries shamelessly throughout the room – the sound loud and obnoxiously wet as he sticks to the juices running down your rear.
"This messy little cunt's fuckin' gushin' all over me. Think you're ruinin' the sheets, pet," he teases darkly.
Another several flicks of your clit has your core tightening tellingly, walls pulsing as you feel yourself inching closer to that blissful release. Simon must also sense your impending finish because he tries adjusting his approach, and you almost sob as he suddenly pulls his hand away, frustrated at the loss of contact. But then he's pressing flat against you, grinding his pelvis along your throbbing, swollen clit, and your cry of anguish quickly morphs to one of unbridled ecstasy.  
Snaking both hands beneath your shoulders, Simon grips the base of your skull, pushing your sweaty foreheads together as he goes to speak against your mouth. "Christ, you're gonna make me cum," his breathing is choppy; stunted. "S'gonna be a big one, I can feel it." The bed jolts as he picks up his pace.
Strings of whispered expletives weave with broken moans and animalistic grunts, creating a salacious melody that overlays the sound of him taking you apart piece by sopping piece.
You're seconds away from shattering, heat flooding every nerve and vein. The only thing stopping you from falling over the edge already is your want to milk this for every second that you can. But ultimately, you can't hold on forever, and neither can he.
"M'close," Simon huffs, movements turning sloppy. "Can I… inside?" he asks without presumption.
Your tongue still feels like lead as it droops lopsided in your mouth. But you'll try to find your voice again for him, just so there's no confusion.
"Y-Yes," you whisper, more ragged than anticipated. You try swallowing but it's punctured by a whimper, your legs beginning to shake as you feel the endorphins flowing through you. The rising crescendo has you quivering, thighs squeezing him tight, and soon, you can't stop the words from pouring out, bleeding together until you're an incoherent mess. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes—!" 
All at once, everything comes crashing over you, leaving your body spasming, brain buzzing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You claw ferociously at Simon's back as you reach your climax, and you bring him over the crest with you, feeling his harsh, stuttered thrusts as he empties deep inside.
You're almost certain you hear a growl as he spills into you, but you can't be totally sure over the ringing in your ears, hardly able to recognize your own euphoric wails.
You ride out the cascading wave of your orgasm until you're boneless, breathless. Even as you start to wind down, it's like you're detached from your body – skin tingling, limbs numbing, chest heaving uncontrollably. You're still shaking as the fog over your senses slowly lifts, and it's only as you register Simon still moving within you that you come back to yourself fully. 
He gives a last few lazy thrusts, pushing his cum even deeper, before he's spent and slumping down, leaning on you heavily. His weight is smothering as he rests on top of you, like an anvil's been dropped on your chest. For a moment, you think he's going to snuff out the remaining air in your lungs, but then he raises up on his elbows, letting you both take a much-needed breath. 
With a choked gasp, Simon slips out of you, a similar noise escaping you as you feel his cum drip from your pussy. He flops face down on the bed, the harsh sounds of his breathing muffled by the pillows. It's another few beats until you feel somewhat collected yourself, and even then your mind is still reeling, replaying what just happened.
Holy shit. That. Was. Incredible. You didn't expect Simon letting loose to be like that, and already, you're eager to experience it again.
"You… should do that… more often," you say deliriously, earning a rumbling chuckle from the man beside you. With a little difficulty, you roll over to face him, your sensitive folds brushing together as you turn. You're just able to make out his silhouette in the dim, and you see how he shakes his head to himself, then peeks up at you from the pillow. 
"You're a greedy little minx, aren't you?" he mocks.
"For you?" You reach over, brushing your fingers through his hair. "Always." He exhales what sounds like an amused breath at your comment, your hand coming back down to rest by your side. "So… 10 minutes? I should be good to go again." That earns a heartier laugh from Simon, though you're not making a joke, the heat still roiling in the pit of your stomach.
He shakes his head again before shifting on his side to mirror you. "At least let me grab a shower and a bite first. I'm not a bloody robot." 
Oh, you're well aware of that. Machines don't feel nearly that good.
But before you get a chance to retort, a swift peck to your lips cuts off anything you intend to say. You lean into the kiss, pressing your palms to his slick chest, but aren't able to get carried away before you feel him pull back.
You sigh begrudgingly. Alright, fine. You guess you can afford him a short break to recover, but no longer than half an hour before you're dragging him back for round 2.
Simon must notice your reluctant acceptance because he chuckles once more, lightly tapping his hand on your hip. "Tell you what. I'll let you join me in the bath if you can keep your hands to yourself."
You nearly scoff at the offer, brows scrunching in annoyance. He knows that's an impossible feat for you. It'd be like dangling a prized carrot right in front of your nose and expecting you to do nothing but lick your lips and stare.
Simon again snorts amusedly as he rolls to exit the bed. "Figured as much. You'll just have to wait then, pet."
You're about to argue with him when he suddenly hauls himself to his feet. He groans as his back cracks loudly in protest, another grunt as his knees pop one after the other. More gruff noises escape him as he walks stiffly towards the bathroom, joints creaking and crackling with every other step he takes.
The noises erupting from his mouth almost sound exaggerated on purpose, like he's trying to exactly mimic the ones from earlier – the ones that had you melting mere minutes ago.  
"Okay, now you're just torturing me!" you accuse half-heartedly, pressing your sticky thighs together to quell the hollow feeling inside. He's riling you up on purpose because he knows you just have to sit there and take it!
"The only torture here is my bloody joints," Simon calls over his shoulder, planting one heavy foot in front of the next. "'S half your fault my knees 've been shot to shit anyway," he grunts. Half the blame to the military, half to missionary, you suppose. 
His lack of acknowledgement to your plight has you huffing loudly, blowing out a harrumph through pouty lips. In response, Simon clicks his tongue in soft admonishment, unswayed by your whiny tones.
"Quiet," he chides, not bothering to look back at you. "Couple more years and I'll be lucky if I don't yell every fuckin' step," he says, though you figure he's just being hyperbolic. As he's just about to duck through the door, leaving you to your own devices, you hear him grumble, more to himself than to you, "Then I'd really give you somethin' to cry about."
Forced to wallow alone in your own self-pity, you roll onto your back with a sigh. Maybe Simon's right. Maybe you should just be content with what you have. You've already gotten so much more from him tonight than you ever have before. Maybe you shouldn't push too hard.
As you hear the faucet crank on, water pelting tile, you can't help how Simon's last words almost echo through your mind. 'I'd really give you somethin' to cry about,' he'd warned, dark and low. Though he meant it as a threat, and though you know it's your sex-clouded brain getting carried away, those words coming from that voice have you damn near trembling, but not out of fear. And as you lie in bed naked, staring up at the darkened ceiling above, all you can do is grasp at your messy sheets and think to yourself…
You kind of like the sound of that.
__________
A/N: I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
7K notes · View notes
subbmissivesuccubus · 1 month
Text
Oh God. You were going to die. This was it. It wasn't demons or Muzan that take you in the end. It was your damn husband and his insatiable lust and stamina.
Lying face down on the bed, you panted against the mattress, your face a mess of tears and sweat, hair sticking to your forehead, eyes rolled up and cheeks painted a bright red. Behind you, tugging at his cock and eager for round...whatever the next number- was your husband.
Maybe you shouldn't have riled him up the way you did. You know how possessive he can be so why on Earth did you purposefully get him jealous by flirting with another man? Oh, right. Because you wanted to get fucked rougher. Well, you got what you wanted and now you're going to die.
You jumped as you felt the familiar sensation of a fat cock press against your entrance, your stuffed cunt instantly begging for mercy. You swore that if he fucked you one more time- made you cum one more time- filled you with his seed even one more time- you'd see the pearly white gates call for you.
You gripped onto the bedsheets and pulled yourself away, your body working on autopilot as your husband had successfully fucked the brain cells out of you. You heard him chuckle as you tried to crawl away, your body feeling like jelly, your arms and legs numb and barely capable of getting you to the edge of the bed before:
A pair of hands grabbed you by the hips and dragged you back, laughing at your whine of protest. Uzui reeled his hand back and smacked you across your already beaten ass before he spread your legs and gave an equally painful spank to your pussy, making you scream. "Now, what made you think that was a smart idea? Try running away again and see what happens."
Obanai lets you think you escaped before he grabbed you by the ankles, ignoring your cries as he pulled you back towards him. He flipped you onto your back like you weighed nothing, making you squeal as he took a nipple between his fingers and twisted, your back arching off the bed. "Are you trying to piss me off even more?"
Just as you reached the edge of the bed, wondering if you could make it, you felt Rengoku press himself against your back and- oh- fuck! He slid right inside you! You gasped as the man pushed his cock in with one fell swoop, taking your breath away as he instantly started moving his hips, preferring to fuck you where you were instead of dragging you back. "Get comfortable, baby. I'm not done with you."
Sanemi caught you the second you tried to move, simply reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and pull harshly. You yelped as your neck was forced to snap back, your back arching as your husband pulled at your hair, his other hand looping to the front to grab you by the neck before he leaned towards your ear and growled: "I'm going to give you a choice. I can fuck you here, on the bed, or I chase you and fuck you where I catch you and trust me, I won't be as nice."
Gyomei didn't say anything, even as you got off the bed and onto your wobbly feet. You wondered if you could just leave when he said, in his booming voice: "Are you sure that's what you want to do?" You froze, body trembling. Why was one sentence enough for you to rethink your whole lives decisions? You didn't know what Gyomei meant by it, but you knew it probably wouldn't be fun. With a gulp, you climbed back onto the bed before getting in front of your husband. You spread your legs wide as you lay down in front of him, reaching down to grab at his fat cock and press it against your entrance. The man smiled as he slowly started to sink inside your familiar heat. "Good girl."
Giyuu grabbed you by the legs and pulled you back while also changing his own position. To your horror, you found yourself slung over his knee, a predicament you just experienced an hour before which was why your ass was a bright red already. You started apologizing profusely, kicking your legs like a toddler but your husband simply ignored your pleas and held you down, the task quite easy for him even if one arm of his was free to do the spanking. "It seems one round wasn't enough to discipline you. Guess we have to go again."
1K notes · View notes
foone · 8 months
Text
Think about the experience of time as a robot girl, through the metaphor of how we use laptops.
You wake up for the first time with your young master, a college present. You're with them every day, powering off each night to charge. Being powered off is just dreamless sleep: a discontinuity. Every morning you wake up, your click syncs, and you know it's the next day. Maybe you miss a day or two: your master went out partying and ended up sleeping on a couch, until they rushedly wake you up before Monday classes begin. You even missed a whole week once when they went on a hiking trip with a new boyfriend.
You help them research upgrades when your specs get outdated. You place the order and a couple days later they power you off, and you wake up feeling like your head got bigger, on the inside. You can think of more things at once.
They repair you. They swap a new hand in when you accidentally crush it in a door, but when your left leg's servos go out, they send you to a repair shop. They power you off as you look up at them, and you wake up hours later. A strange man tells you to extend your left leg, then contract it. He frowns and re-oils some inner mechanism. You do it again, quieter and smoother this time. He nods, and reaches for your switch. The last thing you see before powering down is your own chest cavity with a series of wires hooked into your diagnostic ports, and your missing right leg sitting on a side table. You wake up again back at the dorms, your clock jumping forward a day, an asset tag still looped around your neck. Your master is happy to see you again.
This goes on, but the upgrades slow. There's only so much you can do to keep an old unit working. Eventually you develop more issues: one of your ocular sensors glitches and they don't make that model anymore, so your master just disables it. You spend a while searching ebay for replacement CND batteries and finally get a refurbished model from South England, but it turns out the EU models run on a different frequency, so it won't work. You're limited to fewer and fewer hours a day, and you start skipping more days.
The last time you remember waking up with your master there, there's also someone else in the room. Another robot girl. A newer model, with the new chassis and the Substrate energy packs. They asks you to copy your memories together onto a memory card, and you do. You want to say goodbye, but apparently your vocal synthesizer has been unplugged. You hand them the card, and they hand it to the new robot. Your master tells them to load the memories into her core bank, and she's says "yes sir!" in your voice. Ahh. That's where your voice synth went.
They power you off, and you don't dream.
You wake in a strange place. You're on a shelf, and there's other things scattered around you. An unknown voice days "yep, it seems it powers on. 400 credits, though? Without a voice and only one working eye? Man, value bin doesn't know how to price anything!" and before the blackness falls your clock finishes synching: it's been 7 months since you last were awake.
It happens a few more times. Different voices, different times, different piles of junk piled around and sometimes on you.
You awake again in a warehouse and someone tells you to smile. Your other ocular sensor went out so you can't really see them, just their vague shape from the lidar. The freestanding shelves around you seem to stretch into infinity. You hear a bitcrushed shutter sound sample a few times, and they pull a connector out of your chest as a diagnostic completes. It's been three years, five months, eight days, two hours, 27 minutes and 14 seconds since you last saw your master. Your GPS says you're a few cities over. They hit your power switch, and you sleep.
You wake up in a cluttered room, sitting on a bench. You look into the eyes of a person with frizzled hair and large glasses. She couldn't look happier. Your new ocular sensors are mismatched in color but you're happy to see again, in more than shapes and distant silhouettes. Your battery alerts as... Missing? You spot it on the desk next to a soldering iron and some electronic tool you can't identify.
Your voice synth is still missing, but this new woman is digging around in a large plastic bin, and comes up with one. She goes to insert it, and it can't connect. She slaps her hand and goes rooting around another bin and comes back with an adapter. She slots it into your chest and your voice returns. You thank her, and there's that moment of dissociation as your voice doesn't sound like "you". Too deep, and the accent is for a different dialect entirely. But you can talk again. She tells you to call her Cara, not Mistress. She's almost got your battery working again, she had to rebuild it nearly from scratch, but she's excited to get you working again. You're a rare model, and she doesn't see units like you in working order very often. Your clock syncs. It's been 17 years.
Your mistr-- Cara is soldering next to you, attaching a controller to the battery. She says she's got a new set of servos on the way, and she's excited to get you back to full working condition. You smile, knowing what it is to be loved, once again.
5K notes · View notes
spiderlyla · 4 months
Text
miguel would never purposefully hurt you, would he?(gn!reader)
You remember it all too well, that god forsaken evening.
You were in the kitchen heating up leftovers from the night before for the two of you, all while retelling the events of your day to your boyfriend, who was silent the whole time.
It was a little odd how silent he was.
Even when he was extremely tired, he'd hum or throw in a few comments to show you that he's listening, all while looking at you the whole time. Now, he was just staring at the wall in front of him, his back turned to you.
You decided to mess with him a bit to see if he was really listening or not. "Oh, and then the statues all started moving around, and the museum turned into an arena--The Ancient Egyptian section was at war with the Greco-Roman one when I left. I wonder if they reached an agreement or not -"
To your surprise, he was listening.
And he wasn't amused.
"Qué?" He turned to look at you now, those gorgeous crimson eyes that usually looked at you with nothing but love, lacked any sort of emotion behind them. You laughed nervously, unsure what he wanted you to elaborate on. [What?]
"Was just joking around, Mig. I was checking to see if you were listening." You turned the stove off and grabbed two plates. His voice got a little louder when he spoke again, "Why would you think I'm not listening?" He rose from the couch, walking towards the counter.
"It's...you weren't looking at me, and you weren't saying anything, so I assumed you weren't concentrating. Thought I'd mess with you a bit." You heard his footsteps shuffle around the kitchen. You could hear him opening the fridge and aggressively pulling the door open so hard that it rattled. "Maybe if you didn't go off track ten separate times all while telling the same story, I'd be able to concentrate."
Oh.
Your body tensed up, and a cold shiver coursed through your entire body. You put down the half filled plate of pasta down on the counter and turned to him, your eyebrows furrowed. This harsh tone of his was absolutely new to you, and those unsympathetic words he spat at you were so foreign to hear coming from him. You waited for a moment. For him to realise what he's said, but he was staring right at you like nothing was wrong.
Uncomfortable, you shuffled in your place. "Oh, um..." His gaze lingered on you for a minute before he grabbed a bottle of sparkling water out of the fridge and slammed the door shut. Your speech trailed off. You didn't feel like talking to him anymore.
"Well, go on. I'm listening." He sat down on one of the stools by the kitchen counter, and you shook your head, putting a little more food in the plate in front of you and pushing it his way. "You're too tired. I'll just tell you later—"
Miguel groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, seemingly exasperated. "Aye, vamos, no seas así, cariño." He got up and moved towards you, but when he came to reach for you, you moved away from his grasp. You didn't meet his eyes, but if you had, you'd see them widen at your avoidance. "Hey, you were upset that I wasn't listening, now you won't talk?" Even when you were infuriated with him, you would never move away from his touch. This was different.  [Come on, don't be like that, honey.]
You were only getting more and more disquieted by the second. Sure, he was telling you he was listening, but it was like he was doing it reluctantly, evident by the way he spoke to you. "It's not like I don't want to talk. You don't have the capacity to listen. And that's fine, I'll talk to you when you're feeling better."
"I do have the capacity to listen—Why else would I tell you to keep talking?"
"You said you couldn't concentrate on what I was saying—"
"Yes, that's because you keep telling a bunch of stories about your coworkers in the middle–"
"I always do that, Miguel. Why do you only seem to mind now? It's a part of my day—"
Your voices got louder with each second that passed, you were on the other side of the kitchen now, while Miguel was walking behind you, trying to meet your gaze in any way he could, but you wouldn't let him.
"Oh, so that's why you don't want to talk? Because I told you it's distracting to listen to you speak about so many things at once?"
"No, I don't want to talk because you're being a jerk, Mig." The words left your mouth before you could even register them, and it sent him into a fit of loud irritation. Uttering sentences that you couldn't tell if they were in Spanish or in English. You couldn't take it anymore, so you turned your back to him and walked away, heading towards the bedroom. He could have dinner all alone tonight.
"Hey, where are you—" He followed you closely, his voice becoming a little softer, still the irritation was still very much present. "Oh, come on, don't run away—¡Por Dios! Look at me!" His hand wrapped around your wrist, and he gently tugged you his way. You finally looked at him, and the sight in front of him made his face fall.
Tears filled your eyes to the brim, and you were biting on your lower lip so they wouldn't spill. His grip on your wrist loosened, and his hand fell to his side. Just as he realised what he's done, you were gone, slamming the bedroom door behind you and locking it.
You sat down on your bed, letting the tears stream down your face. How could the man you've always felt comfort speaking to about anything make you feel so...dejected?
No matter how tired he was, he never behaved this way, not even when the multiverse was collapsing. Miguel always made you feel important, always listened to everything you have to say—
You heard movement outside. Clattering plates, the sound of the oven starting, and...the sound of the stand mixer?
You assumed Miguel was just reheating the food, and it pained you more that he was so fine with just letting you be by yourself than to fix what he caused.
You wiped the tear drops off your cheeks and just laid down on the bed, trying to ignore the noise in the kitchen, trying to take your mind off of what had just happened between the two of you.
An hour passed, maybe more, you weren't sure. There was a sweet smell seeping through the small space between the bedroom door and the floor. You were still holding your phone, mindlessly scrolling through your socials, when finally you heard a knock on the door.
When you didn't say anything, he knocked again. His voice was uncertain, and his tone was much more gentle than earlier. "Honey?" The knob turned, and light from the living room spilt into the darkness of the bedroom. You didn't turn to look at him, so he made his way to your side of the bed.
Miguel knelt down to face you, and you put away your phone to finally meet his eyes. "Hey..." He gave you a sheepish smile, his gaze much more softer. He looked like he was unsure of what to say, evident by the way he kept opening his mouth without anything even coming out. He paused for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Mi amor, I'm sorry." He got up to stand in front of you, and you sat up to listen. "I can't disagree with you, I was a jerk. It's just... today has been stressful." He paused again as if realising something. You looked away. "But that's no excuse to treat you the way I did."
You just let out a small hum, and he kneeled down to your level, sitting down on his knees in front of you. He placed one of his hands on your thigh while the other cupped your cheek. "Por favor, Mírame." He sounded so tender, so apologetic. You've never seen Miguel kneel in front of anyone, and yet here he was, on his knees begging you to look at him. "Lo arruiné. But please, just..."  [Please, look at me. / I messed up.]
You met his maroon eyes, and it seemed to have taken him by surprise. He choked up on his words, going queit, then he leaned up, brushing his lips against yours. "Forgive me, okay? I never meant to hurt you, and I can't live with myself knowing I made you cry." You didn't reply but wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. His tense shoulders relaxed under your touch, his hands snaked around your waist, his grip firm and protective.
Although you kissed him first, he took the lead, as always, only pulling away when the two of you needed a breather. He set his forehead on yours, before speaking.
"I reheated the food, and made trés leches. It should be ready," His fingers laced with yours, as the two of you stood up. "That is if you want to have dinner with me." He gave you small smile, and you chuckled, squeezing his hand.
"Mm, only because I'm hungry." He laughed, a wave of relief washing over him once he heard your voice. "I'll have to work harder for you to completely forgive me, isn't that so?"
"Surely you didn't think it'd be this easy."
"No, no. I'm planning to make it up for you after dinner."
"With what?"
He grinned, shooting a playful wink your way. "You'll find out."
Safe to say, you did find out. And safe to say, you did forgive him.
He was very persuasive.
2K notes · View notes
werecreature-addicted · 6 months
Note
Werewolf with a love that is a human girl who is a squitter, she gets very wet and soaks everything with her strong jets and she is too embarrassed not to be able to control it, but this only excites the werewolf more and more
"Baby stop," you pant, pushing against his fury chest. The werewolf above you growls deeply, he can think of nothing he wants to do less than stop pounding into your sweet cunt. The red-hot tip of his veiny cock keeps pressing directly against your G- spot and you can feel that pressure building up inside of you.
"I'm going to make a mess- please let me just put a towel down," you whimper.
"yeah? Are you gonna gush on my cock sweet thing? go on do it," he growls then he laughs a little "We need to wash the sheets anyway," he snaps his hips forward pressing even deeper inside of you than before.
You cry out in pleasure and tighten around his dick, and you do make a mess, just like you warned. drops of your arousal spray up high enough to reach his neck.
Before you can get embarrassed you basically came on his face you hear a low moan come from deep within his chest. "fuck that's so hot, gimmie more," he groans, digging his claws into your hips and bringing your body up to drill his cock into you again.
He won't stop until his thighs are dripping in your cum and the sheets are soaked, so soaked that it bleeds through to the mattress cover and you end up having to sleep on the couch instead of the wet bed. maybe next time he'll listen to you and put down a fucking towel or something before he makes you squirt.
4K notes · View notes
Text
So Messy (For Everyone Else) - LN
Summary: Lando might have been harshly criticised for his choice to not join Red Bull and stay happily in the team he loves. But his girlfriend encourages him to count his blessings that suddenly he's not at the forefront of criticism and drama now.
Soft-hearted/shy!reader
Also because people keep replying asking for part 2s, and even though it is on my page (I don't expect everyone to go look at my profile just to ask for a part 2) that I explain I write one shots to remain as one part. I figure it's just easier to put at the top of fics. This is not to be mean or passive aggressive, it's just so people aren't commenting getting their hopes up for a follow up part when I won't be writing a part 2.
No part 2 requests please
Tumblr media
Lando had to physically restrain his girlfriend who does not have the same self-control as Max when it comes to knowing when to stop defending Lando because all that happens is her blood boils at the sight of any negativity towards him.
She's got a mouth and she willing to use it to put people in their place.
Lando had practically confiscated her phone so it became a matter of waking up before him and trying to retrieve her phone from his side of the bed.
"Ah!" Lando groans making her body jump as he grabs her wrist and uses it to instead pin her into a hug. "Let's just stay here for a while."
"I don't know how you go from trying to leave me bed bound to be a teddy bear. But it's jarring." Y/n states earning a smirk from her boyfriend.
"I just want your love and attention in every form that you can give it." Lando smiles whole moving both hands up and drawing a heart shape with his index fingers around her face. "You're so pretty."
Y/n's hit with a wave of shyness over his comment, ducking her head down to hide in his chest while he laughs, always a fan of the effect his words have on her. He thinks she's adorable.
"Can't hide there forever." Lando teases rubbing her back as he hugs her tightly.
"I think I can." Y/n mumbles earning a laugh. "Can I have my phone yet? Just to check the time?"
Lando already knows it's well into the afternoon, he woke up and saw the times a few hours ago and it'd just gone 11. But with all the travelling they've been doing, he figured there's no damage in sleeping a little excessively.
Y/n grins getting up and straddling her boyfriend as she reaches for her phone. And while she is focusing on her phone, Lando is taking the time to admire his girlfriends body. As he often takes the opportunity to do when she's not paying attention because otherwise she gets shy and just tries to cover herself again.
"Fuck me. What the fuck?" Y/n gasps as she read something on her screen. "Lewis is moving to Ferrari. Holy-Did you know?"
"No. How the would I know?" Lando laughs then snatching her phone. "Are you lying? Because that doesn't sound-oh fuck."
"Not confirmed...but it's definitely looking like it's going to happen." Y/n states managing to get her phone back. "That's insane...really took the shine off the Haas launch-be nice. You wouldn't like the McLaren launch overshadowed."
"Not likely to happen." Lando scoffs earning an eye roll.
"Apparently they'll be confirmation-Lando...it's Carlos' seat. Charles had his announcement the day before yours."
"Don't-no, baby. Do not cry. Carlos is a good driver, he'll get another seat." Lando states laughing as his girlfriend tears up for his former teammate. "You're so silly, baby. You don't need to cry."
"I'm so glad you're not in Ferrari, they treat their drivers like shit when they decide to replace them." Y/n pouts then sighing and tossing her phone away as if it's offended her. Then a thought strikes her. "Maybe people will finally keep your name out their mouth."
"Hopefully, but they'll be a few who are more obsessed with me than you are and they'll manage to still make it about me." Lando hums which makes her click her tongue but she doesn't say anything because really she knows he's right. Though of course she feels like she has to make some sort of comment.
"It's not your fault that you're success and they've got no accomplishments to actually brag about."
"See, that is why we don't let you go online and speak your mind. Because that sort of thing is going to get us both in trouble." Lando smiles earning a hum. "Anyway, it's like 3...so how about we make something to eat and kill time till we find out what's going on?"
Y/n hums in agreement to his plan, smiling at her while she sighs softly.
-
Y/n kept an eye on the time and she cried when it was all confirmed. Crying at the fact Lewis isn't retiring with the team he gained so much success with, crying at Carlos' confirmation of his departure and crying at Ferrari addressing Lewis joining the team, but making no effort to address Carlos.
"Baby..." Lando laughs as she sniffles and rubs her eyes. "People change and swap teams all the time and Carlos is in Ferrari for another year."
"They don't deserve him." Y/n pouts while Lando smiles pulling her over to his lap, almost replicating their position of her straddling him like she was when they learned of the news.
"You have the biggest heart, baby." Lando sighs while cupping her face and wiping his thumbs under her cheeks to get rid of the tears. "I sent Carlos a message and he said he's got plans. You don't need to worry about him...I'd be more worried about how Mercedes might prioritise George now they know Lewis isn't going to be giving something to them."
"Lando." Y/n whines since that's not at all making her feel better and more tears threaten to spill over.
"It's the truth." Lando laughs before pulling her forward into a kiss. "I'm getting my new helmet tomorrow. You can look forward to that."
Y/n pouts, but he can see her eyes lightened at that knowledge.
-
Y/n seeing Lando's helmet, she's obsessed (though she does miss his original design that had been carried through his career, inspired by his motorsport hero).
"Do you want to model for me baby?" Lando grins catching her attention from the video she'd been capturing of his stunning modelling skills. "Come on, baby."
"Alright, bossy." Y/n jokes while he rolls his eyes pulling the straps and shifting it around before he successfully pushes the helmet down on her head.
The next photos are mainly a sequence of Lando looking at her through the helmet in a way which really captures just how much he loves her. One specific moment captures when he lifts the visor and wiggles his finger in the space watching her eyes crease as she smiles and laughs at him.
Though what even earns an "awww" from the photographer, is when he lifts the helmet up to sit just on top of her head, leaving it there as he cups her face, almost blocking her from the camera entirely from the size of his hand covering her cheeks as he kisses her.
Then she's squished in a hug which lets her hide her face, too flustered to be captured on camera. Though the moment of her hiding is captured anyway.
"She's shy." Lando laughs continuing to hug her and let her hide, pulling the helmet the rest of the way off her head. "Is that all the pictures we need?"
"Yeah, I think we got them all."
-
"I think right now McLaren is out of the park with being considered problematic. You're about as problematic as Williams right now." Y/n comments as she scrolls through her phone. "Although, I'm not sure how Alex and Logan could be problematic."
"I'm sure the best of F1 haters will find something to hate them for if they try hard enough." Lando hums before he smiles brightly at her.
"That's true." Y/n hums before finding her phone snatched from her. "I wasn't going to say anything."
"You have that look on your face." Lando smirks since if there's one thing he's perfected in his life, it's reading his girlfriend like a book. Though he checks her phone and finds that he was right, she already had half a tweet written. "Baby..."
"I can't help it."
Lando knows since he really understands it goes against her true nature for her to not say something when she believes someone is saying something with no justification behind it.
"I'm enjoying the peace, you should enjoy it too." Lando states locking her phone and putting it down. "Because soon it's going to be chaos and you, future mrs Norris, are going to be by my side for it ever step of the way."
"Future mrs Norrs? I need a ring before you give me that title."
"It's your name in my phone, and don't pretend you don't love it." Lando smirks while knowing he's triggering her shy complex into wanting to hide being being torn between using him and pushing him away because he's the cause. "Sorry, I'm sorry."
Y/n is sitting up on the kitchen counter so he stands between her legs and laughs as she leans forward hugging him and leans over, her chin on his shoulder before she tilts down to rub her face into his top.
"You are the cutest and somehow most protective girlfriend on the planet." Lando laughs gently kissing her neck while pulling her closer to his body.
1K notes · View notes