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tsukimefuku · 1 month

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the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery.

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him.

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long.

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage.

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it?

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago.

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling.

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip.

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary.

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself.

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days.

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.”

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity.

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic.

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you.

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt.

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t... We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable.

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else.

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips.

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?”

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves.

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering.

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline.

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed.

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it.

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again.

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you.

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him.

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him.

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out.

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it.

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so.

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face.

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.”

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

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crispy-armpit · 2 months

Text

✧ 𝒊 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕 ✧

yandere secret agent x reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧ 🍸₊˚ ⋆｡ 𖦹 °

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: after taking on your friend's offer to head downtown to a hidden bar, you find yourself in the middle of a covert operation. thankfully Messiah is there to hide you from danger. or did he just push you right into it?

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: gn reader, yandere, suggestive position & situation, slight violence, reader held at gunpoint, mentions of a firearm and getting shot, reader pressed against male crotch, sadism(?), auditory hallucination (you hear voices), hair pulling, swearing

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,153 words

⭒ a/n: it was my birthday last month and i had planned to post this by then but ofc i never learn my lesson and kept my drafts in tumblr (leading to it getting deleted) 😭!! so sorry for the wait everyone and happy late new years! :D hope u like the batman wannabe.. it goes from 0 to 100 rq because it's hilarious to me and i'm sleep deprived.. i can smell the hate comments already

will you venture down this path?

it was supposed to be another weekend night spent alone in your home; you, comfortably snuggling against your pillows while playing your favourite brain-rot game from night to morning.

but here you were— unfortunately not in your bed, and devastatingly not romancing your fictional game characters. your friend, Vern, had dragged convinced you to join him and try out some random jazz bar which recently opened.

he mentioned his band would be playing there... he's probably just trying to get more people to hype up his band.

the warm ambience of the bistro & bar, alongside the joyous laughter ringing all over the room, people bantering and simply enjoying each other's presence was enough to erase the thoughts of your usual weekend plans. it was the type of place where you couldn't bring up any negative emotions just because of how chill everyone and everything was. so that's one forgiveness point to your friend.

at some point, Vern had split off from you to meet up with the other Ares band members to go perform— leaving you to drink away your life at the bar.

you channeled your best resting bitch face to avoid any strangers trying to hit on you, which worked. you sat alone listening to the blue voice of the current performer, making small talk here and there with the bartender.

oh, the bartender—

you'd been eyeing him up all night.

he was the only other person at the bar. like all other bartenders, he was charismatic and attractive despite the two deep scars running down his left cheek.

maybe he noticed you looking at it, because he suddenly rasped out, "...animal attack" with a nonchalant smile. which is quite impressive, since your gaze never once lingered on the scars for too long. he must be observing me.

Logan (you read his name tag) was an exceptional conversationist. and he played the bartender role extremely well. he brought up topics like your ambitions, your dreams, and even your darkest passions effortlessly.

but his eyes never seemed to really focus on your figure when you talked.

it was always off to a specific direction in the distance. and when you turned to look at what he was looking at, there would only be the same wrinkly old man sitting on the sofa chair.

"can you see it?"

confused, you reply, "see what?"

do you see it? the eyes? his lack of mouth? with hair as white as his, and skin as dark as void, how can you not see me?

"what the hell are you sayi—" you grow pale when you turn back and see Logan had his back turned away from you the whole time, far from the counter.

who was talking to me?

and for the first time in 3 hours since you've arrived, the old man from the chair moves. he wanders aimlessly for a moment until setting his sights on the bar. multiple random people who were loitering in the room take notice of his sudden movement, and all briskly walk towards him.

you're petrified.

the world is spinning, people are blocking the old man's path from you. and you're so thankful for that because it gives you the time to be pulled on top of the bar counter and then underneath it by a pair of strong hands.

your consciousness recovers and you're met with Logan, body crouched down to your level. his shadowed face shows no semblance of the bright man you were talking to a while ago. now his own icy blue eyes pierced through yours, and the once attractive rasp of his voice is now chilling to the bone.

"Logan—"

"you better fucking shut up unless you want to die."

he pulls out a revolver and points it to your forehead.

profusely nodding your head in understanding, tears begin to prick your eyes; this is so fucking messed up, what is happening??

your brain tells you that this was just the alcohol getting to you, and maybe Logan has some kind of split personality and a murderer... that it's some kind of sick prank Vern is probably pulling on you. maybe my drink got spiked...

but your gut tells you that you are in great danger. alcohol has never made you experience that level of auditory hallucination... hell, you were probably being delusional right now— of course Logan's trying to kill you!!

you could hear the faint sounds of bodies thudding against other people as if they were thrown or pushed. but no screams, just grunts. the loudness of the approaching footsteps came to a halt in front of the counter.

you cover your cries as best as you can with your palms and with Logan's hidden weapon still pointed at you. you could so easily whack it away or dodge it. but you stop once you hear the most grotesque voice ever, the result of what sounded like flesh tearing apart and bones reconstructing.

"where... are... they.....?"

you are faced with two decisions:

scream for help and get shot in the head by Logan

scream for help and face whatever the fuck is out there

either way, you don't get to choose. because the stress of the situation is beginning to overwhelm you and soon your whimpers slip out a little. small enough to not be heard from in front of the counter, but big enough for whoever is on top of you— and that someone happened to be the psychopathic bartender.

you freeze.

but your strength alone is not enough to hold back against the veiny hands that grab the back of your hair and push you against the bulge of the man standing in front of you.

you push and thrash over his grasp, but your actions only lead to him digging the lower parts of your face further into his crotch. WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING??? IS HE TRYING TO SILENCE ME WITH HIS DICK?!

and it works...

you stay silent and limp, not because of fear. but because of the absurdity of this situation and the slow growth of whatever beast is hiding under those black waiter pants.

the heat of your muffled breath against his privates collects in your face, it's getting too much but you hold yourself together. your hands that were once pushing him off now lay on the top of his hardened thighs.

Logan shares a couple words with the old man before pointing him elsewhere. you catch a strange name falling off the old man's lips, Messiah. fuck, is this a cult? shortly afterwards, you hear the light sounds of evacuating feet. he's finally gone.

and with the speed of a middle-aged lady during black friday sales, you manage to push him off to the side and stand up across him, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

you were humiliated, violated, mentally tired and— and—

why the fuck is he blushing.

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hideawaysis · 3 months

Text

hello. absolutely hate involving myself in fandom drama, but ifeel this is an important post to make as i have seen a lot of people taking a certain post at face value and believing it.

im referring to this one, made by @/realultimatehater

now, before i say these things, i feel the need to preface this by saying that i do not personally wish to align myself in this fandom debate. i am a tax-paying adult and do not have any energy or time to put into arguing about a tv show on the internet. nonetheless, i have seen people blindly spreading this post around and i feel this needs to be addressed.

this person is lying.

it feels like it should be obvious with the levels of "down with cis bus" energy pulsating off of this, but it's a huge fucking lie.

this person is a known harasser and has targeted children in the past. they will do anything, and i mean ANYTHING to rack up attention and internet points. they have made bold claims like this with little to no evidence in the past all so they can garner more hatred for certain fandoms on the internet. testimonies here and here, and some pretty damning screenshots here.

i advise you all to stop reblogging the post ive shown. it's disinformation, a story fabricated to direct more vitriol towards a fandom with little to no proof that it can somehow make people like this or attract people like this. this person is either a troll or just plain deranged. please stop believing what they say.

tags added for reach.

edit: i received an anonymous ask giving me extra information on this topic, apparently this person is in fact an internet troll who has gone under countless aliases and will often fake identities in order to ruin the reputations of others. more information here and here.

edit 2: another anon ask gave me a preserved version of a post from realultimatehater's first account, showing how they'd crop screenshots of dms in order to make it look like they were being harassed for simply having a negative opinion on hazbin hotel. here's the post, though do know the reblog is from a supporter of them, make of that what you will. here's another version of the post ifound showing how they'd bait people into saying these kinds of things in order to make them look bad. and here's another one! wow!

i also found a few asks showing how this person would literally approach hazbin fans and just blatantly insult them, rather than blocking them. because yeah, when you detest a fandom, you clearly must stir up conflict! that'll keep them away from you! said asks can be viewed here and here

edit 3: the anon i received telling me realultimatehater was an internet troll who'd been trolling people for years apparently was not being truthful, this does not discredit the other evidence ive listed but id really appreciate if people would stop spreading that ask around. ive removed the link to the ask, sincere apologies to anyone affected by that

#hideawaysisposting #hazbin #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #anti hazbin hotel #anti hazbin #anti helluva boss #vivziepop #anti vivziepop

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deanstead · 10 months

Text

Home

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Jay notices something is wrong with Y/N's mood over the phone

Word Count: 1.5K+

Tags/Warnings: mentions of (workplace) harassment

A/N: I know I haven't written in months so starting off slow/small to see if maybe I haven't lost my touch... also @halsteadlover may have threatened me to post this.

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You glanced at the last message Jay had sent you a few hours earlier and smiled.

You got this.

Three simple words that somehow warmed your heart even though you were miles away in another city.

You rarely had to travel for work even though you’d worked as a translator at this company for some time. You mostly dealt with inbound foreign clients who came to Chicago but this time, they’d needed a translator for a conference outside Chicago and you were the only available one. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far so you didn’t even have to take a flight and the company had arranged for a car for you to get there.

Which was all too well, since Jay had also had his hands full and had to go undercover for a few days.

So it was even more heartwarming to see the message from Jay when you hadn’t really been expecting a reply.

Even though you had only seen the message after the conference, it still felt comforting to feel the last dredges of work nerves and anxiety leave your system.

“Y/N, come on.” One of your colleagues from another team called out to you and you stuffed your phone back into your pocket, before following her toward the private room of the restaurant where you were all supposed to be having dinner with a huge client.

You didn’t even like having social dinners with people you weren’t close with, not to mention dinners like this.

Dinner had barely started when you were proven right.

“Thanks to your team, the conference went very well.” The client smiled, looking around. “Of course, we have to thank Y/N for ensuring all communication went smoothly.”

You’d just smiled when you felt his hand slide onto yours from under the table and the smile froze on your face.

Instinctively, you pulled your hand away, bringing your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and grabbing your jacket from behind you and draping it around you, smiling.

“Just doing my job, Mr. Saunders.”

You saw the look on his face and knew he’d taken offense, ridiculous as it was.

You chose to ignore it, pretending like nothing had happened. After all, he’d probably have gotten the hint.

He hadn’t.

The client made a few more passes at you - a hand on your knee, trying to take your hand again, and the most outrageous one was holding up food to feed you in front of everyone.

The action wasn’t lost on everyone who was there but no one spoke up.

You swallowed. “I’ll help myself.”

It was like something snapped in him and he glanced at you coldly and said, “Guess if you’re not hungry, you should go out and wait for everyone to finish.”

You glanced helplessly at your team manager who gave you a look to ask you not to make things worse than they already were.

You gritted your teeth but bit back any sort of response, getting up and leaving the room, a mix of anxiety, humiliation, self-doubt, and every other negative emotion swirling in the pit of your stomach.

Jay sighed, stretching as he sat up from the couch.

The apartment was uncharacteristically quiet since you were away for work.

Jay looked up at the clock. It was slightly past 10 which was weird because he hadn’t heard back from you.

Getting up to get himself a glass of water, Jay glanced at his messages before he decided he’d try and call. Even if you were still with your colleagues, you could probably still answer the phone since the conference was over.

There were two rings before you answered.

“Hey, still having fun with your colleagues?”

There was a slight pause before you answered.

“Jay.”

Jay frowned, immediately picking up on the fact that something was wrong.

“Y/N? What’s going on? You okay?”

Jay’s voice was gentle and so comforting, you felt the prick of tears again.

You cleared your throat. Honestly, crying on the street in the middle of the night was the last thing you wanted to do. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Have you eaten?” Jay’s worried voice sounded through the phone.

You smiled to yourself even as a tear escaped and slid down your cheek.

“Yeah, told you there was good food waiting for me after the conference.”

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jay pressed.

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m fine. I just… miss you.” You managed to keep your voice steady.

“I’ll come and get you,” Jay answered.

“Jay, it’s late and you probably haven’t had enough sleep for the past few days. I’ll take the earliest bus out to Chicago tomorrow.”

You heard the reluctance in his voice even though he agreed and after reassuring him not to worry, you hung up.

The wind felt even colder now as you sat by the side of the road, your carrier bag sitting next to you.

Technically you had another night at the hotel but you hadn’t felt like staying there for even a second longer. Other than the fact that the client knew exactly which room you were in, your team manager had left a message for you berating you for how you’d handled the situation which made you even more disgusted than you already were.

You didn’t know how long you sat there but as you felt it turn colder you thought you should get up and maybe find somewhere else to sit for the night. You didn’t care if you had to sit up all night at a 24-hour cafe but you weren’t going back to the hotel.

You’d barely gotten to your feet, reaching for your carrier when a familiar truck pulled up right before you.

You froze, as Jay appeared right before you like magic.

“Jay… you…”

Jay’s green eyes appeared even brighter than usual as he looked at you with a mix of exasperation and worry. “I came to take you home.”

You’d clearly been sitting out here for longer than you thought, but it didn't matter because when Jay finished speaking you felt the tears well up in your eyes as the security that Jay always made you feel flooded through your entire body and finally gave you enough courage to cry.

Jay stepped forward, wordlessly enveloping you into his arms.

You dissolved into sobs as you felt his arms around you and he pressed you gently into his embrace, his hand over the back of your head protectively. Jay didn’t say anything, just standing there quietly with you in his arms until your sobs gently died down.

"I…”

Jay pressed his lips against your temple and whispered, “Let’s go home.”

Jay didn’t ask you anything on the way home, and you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew Jay was pulling into the parking lot in front of your building and your stomach gave a tiny rumble as Jay killed the engine.

You glanced at him and Jay just let out a chuckle.

“Come on, I’ll order us a pizza and you can get comfortable.”

By the time you got out of the shower, the pizza was here and you got comfortable on the sofa as Jay handed you a slice and curled in next to you.

You didn’t say anything and Jay didn’t push you as you finished your first slice before you glanced up at him.

“I’m sorry.” You said in a low voice.

Jay raised an eyebrow.

“You must be exhausted.” You added.

There was a silence which made you look up and you felt the rare surge of insecurity from not being able to read the look on Jay’s face.

“Did you think I’d be able to go to sleep when I could hear how upset you were?” Jay said quietly. “Y/N, listen. You don’t have to worry about asking me to go out of my way for you. In fact, if it was possible, I hope you’d always do it. I’d go to the moon and back for you if you needed me to.”

You felt the tears well up in your eyes again, this time from an overwhelming feeling of being loved by someone.

Jay just quietly pressed his lips against your temple.

You leaned into him, the rest of the pizza slices forgotten on the table.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

You bit your lip, sitting up a little before you recounted what had happened that night as vaguely as possible, with bare details.

Even so, you could literally hear Jay grinding his teeth beside you.

You glanced at him. “Jay.”

“I’ll kill him. I will literally break his hands.”

You snuggled back into his side. “No, you won’t.” You mumbled. “But I needed to hear that.”

Jay sighed and pulled you tighter against him. “You did the right thing, you know that right? No matter what anyone says.”

You nodded without looking up and Jay patted the back of your head gently, ruffling your hair gently in the process.

You leaned deeper into Jay’s embrace before turning your head up gently to glance at him.

Jay smiled and leaned down to press his lips gently against yours. The negative feelings of the entire night were long gone because you were right where you belonged - home with Jay.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

#resa.fics #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead imagine #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n

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viivenn · 2 months

Text

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

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islandofsages · 5 months

Note

hey, I could ask the royal boys (Leona, Kalim and Malleus) with the male reader who is already the king of his country, like the boys thought he was a prince like them, but then on any given day he lets out a complaint how difficult it is to govern the kingdom and study for exams at the same time, sometimes he just wanted to be the prince and not the king.

characters: leona, kalim and malleus x king!male reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format

warnings: a little bit of negativity towards reader in leona's part, a bit of swearing in kalim's

author's notes: loving all the male reader requests rn. i think i strayed a bit from the prompt but i hope you like it anyway <3

Leona Kingscholar

Though being a prince himself, he’s not as “diplomatic” with the other princes at that school - except for you probably. No don’t ask him what happened, he’s ready to accept it as it is

At least because of your (assumed) status, he finds it easier to communicate with you; at least you’re not one of the top five most powerful mages in the world or the most optimistic person in Twisted Wonderland

Hangouts with him still consist more of silent chilling though; both of you just need to get away from it all for a while

He doesn’t question the days that you’re gone - sometimes people just end up needing you to do this and that. He tries not to dwell on it too much, lest his inferiority complex gets the best of him

Until one day, you come back after one day of absence, which is normal enough until-

“*sigh* I swear, being king is less appealing as my retainers make it sound, especially since I also have to go to school all the while.”

I’m sorry, being what now?

He knew you were royalty, that much he got from everyone whispering about you back when you enrolled and since you made little mention of your background, he just assumed you were a prince like him

You let out a tired chuckle then and comment on how you forgot that you never told him you’re an actual king of a nation

He has mixed feelings over this - he thought he finally met someone a little bit like him, yet you’re just another one of them and you never bothered telling him who you are?

But don’t worry, he gets over his feelings of betrayal after a while; it’s not like the reveal changed who you are as a person. You’re still the same guy who he’s been hanging out with and he knows his brain is trying to defend itself

You apologize for not telling him sooner and despite your complaints, you try not to sound ungrateful, especially considering his issues

At some point, even Leona himself starts to forget about that fact

It doesn’t matter if you carry a whole nation on your shoulders because - and he will never say this out loud - he knows you’re capable and if you start to crumble, he’ll be there for you.

Kalim Al-Asim

Though he’s not one to really care about someone’s social status, he’s happy to have more royal friends

Doesn’t stop him from spoiling you. Haven’t you heard? Any friends of Kalim are also friends of his many, many fortunes

He invites you over to Scarabia for parties every so often and either you are surrounded by people or everyone leaves you alone out of intimidation

But hey, if the latter happens, Kalim is more than happy to help you make some friends (unless you’re uncomfortable with it of course but he’ll still try to help)

One time, at one of his many parties, you two were simply laughing over something and it reminded you of something-

“That makes me think of the time this creature took a shit on my throne back at home - it took a few days for the stench to fade!”

Oh, of course, your throne! Everyone totally has a literal throne back home! Until Kalim realizes that is, in fact, untrue

As if he wasn’t already excited at the prospect of a new friend, he gets more excited at the fact that you have your own throne and is, he concludes, a monarch

You brush him off, light pink decorating your cheeks, saying that it’s not really that special - and you mean it

You tell him of the experience and you couldn’t help slip in a few complaints; it isn’t easy to juggle both school and royal responsibilities at the same time

He only listens in and tries his best to understand; he is no king, and though he is a housewarden and a prince, your struggles differ from his by a long mile

From that day on, he makes sure to check in on you and if you’re feeling less than, he’ll drop everything and do anything to relieve you of your stress

When he drops by your nation and your palace, he brings in a whole parade. It’s so Kalim that you can only laugh

You knew that story about a creature shitting on your throne was gonna be a good story at parties.

Malleus Draconia

Your presence is an absolute delight to him; it didn’t occur to him to ask what kind of royalty you are but it didn’t matter either way

He finds himself more comfortable talking about his heritage around you, knowing that you can somewhat relate to being of nobility

If you’re not part of his club, sometimes you tag along on his gargoyle crusades for the hell of it - seeing him so passionate about something brings a smile to your face

On one of your many escapades, he points out a gargoyle and begins to ramble about its features

Hearing it suddenly makes you remember-

“Ah gosh, I just remembered I should be back home right now, some of my people will be coming over to construct some gargoyles around my castle.”

He doesn’t question it at first but then the phrase “my people” registered in his mind. Wait, what do you mean your people?

You start to apologize for not telling him and also the fact that you have to leave that very moment

After you came back after the whole ordeal, you sit him down somewhere and tell him about your position

As mentioned, it doesn’t matter to him what responsibilities you have, as long as you can be his friend

You breathe out a sigh of relief and invite him to continue where you two left off last time

Nothing changes much between you two, except for the fact that you share more of your kingly experiences

He definitely drops by your place at least once - he could never miss out a chance on seeing some new gargoyles

And as he looks on at those beautiful waterspouts, you can’t help but be grateful that they can serve as a source of happiness for someone too.

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zoewrites · 1 year

Text

Your Price (Joel Miller x F!Reader) 18+

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, alcohol, prostitution, dirty talk, daddy kink, pet names, rough blowjobs, cumplay, grinding, overstimulation, size kink, creampie, unprotected sex, negative attitude towards sex work, rude grumpy joel

Wordcount: 4k

Even from a distance, you could sense the ever-present air of grumpiness that exuded from Joel Miller’s being. And it made your heart beat faster. He sat alone at the bar, his narrowed eyes fixed on the glass of whiskey in his hand. He only ever raised his head to flag down the bartender for more.

Since his arrival in the community last month, you’d heard plenty of gossip about the man. That he was a dangerous smuggler, having committed unspeakable acts of violence - and not just for survival-

And that he was cold to even those who had reached out and tried to help him settle in-

And that he seemed to revel in his reputation as a tough, unapproachable man, only ever softening for that daughter who “wasn’t actually his daughter.”

“Ungrateful son of a bitch,” Your friend had described him in a huff after a particularly unpleasant encounter down at the stables, “He’s damn lucky that Tommy is his brother…”

But all the rumors did was fuel your curiosity and crush. There was an undeniable allure about the mysterious older man. The combination of his rugged looks and the intimidating energy surrounding him made him undeniably attractive to you, drawing you in despite the barriers he put up. On the third fill of his glass, you decided it was your chance to approach him.

You sauntered over across the busy saloon, taking a seat beside him. Not a shred of acknowledgment upon his face as you cleared your throat, leaning in slightly.

“Hey cowboy,” You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, letting it fuel your determination.

Joel turned his head to glance at you, his eyebrow raised but his expression remained guarded.

“Mind if I-”

“M’not interested.” His low voice shut you down and he turned back to his whiskey.

You felt a pang of frustration at his immediate dismissal. But you also felt another kind of pang, one that settled deep down within you as you finally got a close-up look at the man. His features were weathered, with grey patches in his beard and lines of experience framing his eyes. It made you wonder what all he had seen out beyond the walls of Jackson where you’d spent most of your life.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” You maintained your composure, smirking at him.

“I know who y’are, what you do,” He grumbled, still not facing you.

“Do you?” You questioned, curious as to what exactly he knew. It was true you had a bit of an… “arrangement” going on with some of the men in the community. You were a pretty girl who liked attention, and in a town where bartering was the new monetary medium, what was wrong with receiving a little… “compensation” for your time? You had no shame, it was a win-win for all involved.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his jaw clenched even more and his thumb and index finger met the bridge of his nose, sighing in annoyance.

“Long day?” Not one to give up easily, you egged him on.

“Long week. S’Why I’m here. Trying to relax.” He punctuated the end of his sentence by setting the glass down and glaring at you.

“And how is that working out for you?” He watched as you swiveled your bar stool towards his, stretching your long legs out and crossing one over the other, giving him your full attention. The way his eyes flickered to the exposed skin on your thigh where your dress rode up didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, it ignited something in you.

“Was workin’ real nicely till you interrupted.” You were indeed beginning to understand why he was so disliked.

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, “Because you were lookin’ real lonely over here to me.”

Joel scoffed.

“But maybe I could help you.”

“Help?” He frowned.

“With relaxing,” You teased, leaning in a little closer, “I’m good at that kind of thing.”

You maintained his eye contact as you slowly wrapped your lips around the straw of your cocktail. You swore you could see redness bloom on the apples of his cheeks when he shook his head. The craving was building, you wanted to see this man come undone.

“Jesus Christ, woman.” He murmured under his breath, almost too quiet for you to hear over the rowdy Friday night crowd.

You shrugged innocently, turning your stool back to face the bar. You began to wonder if he really was as impossible to crack as everyone said. But he was still sitting so close that you could feel his body heat against your right side. And you could smell the leather of his worn jacket. You swallowed hard as the two of you sat in silence. Just as you were about to excuse yourself and give up for the night, he cleared his throat.

“How much?” Joel asked quietly and you felt your eyes narrow in disbelief, surely you’d misheard him.

“Hm?”

“Your price.” Oh? Oh. Your heart slammed against the walls of your chest.

“Oh really?” You couldn’t control the teasing grin that spread across your face, you had Joel Miller right where you wanted him, “Now you’re interested?”

“Forget it,” He muttered and went to stand.

“Hey, wait,” You reached for his arm, eyes shining bright with delight, “Yours or mine?”

You passed by Joel’s home most days on your walks to the greenhouse or the stables. You'd always hoped to catch a glimpse of him out on the porch, sometimes talking with Ellie, sometimes strumming a guitar. Though you’d never spoken to either, it always felt like you were being let in on a little secret, getting to see just a glimpse of who Joel was underneath that cold exterior.

And now here you were, standing on that very porch, following him inside. It was tidy aside from a few pairs of boots and some comic books strewn about. Better than you were expecting for a single father and a teenager.

“Your kid out for the night?” You'd asked, letting your fingers dance across the mantle of the fireplace, eyeing a drawing she must’ve done for him. It suddenly felt so intimate, being let into his private world.

Joel shot you a look that said ‘of course she is.' That he was offended you would ever even consider the possibility of him bringing you here if she wasn’t out. He made it clear he didn’t have you over to simply ogle the ornaments on the shelves.

After locking the door, he stood at the entrance, looking down and fidgeting with his gloved hands. You began to wonder if he was nervous. What a sight, the gruff and tough Joel Miller…. timid in your presence.

“Well…” He began and then trailed off.

“Well…” You repeated and stood behind the couch, letting your hands rest on the backing as you leaned forward, giving him a full view of your cleavage in the low-cut dress another man had gifted you.

“Dunno how this usually goes…” He admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck and shrugging his jacket off, leaving him in that wrinkly plaid button-up, “D’you uh-”

“We can do whatever you want,” You assured him, giggling at his sudden apprehension, “Come sit.”

He ambled over, a little confused as to why you were still standing behind him until he felt your hands move over his shoulders, rubbing at the tense muscles. You applied a gentle pressure, digging in with your palms, and he couldn’t help but let his head fall forward as you worked.

“You’re so tense, Joel,” You whispered against his ear, fighting the temptation to bite at it, and all he could do was groan, “Let me help.”

As you progressed, kneading at his flesh through the faded fabric, you could feel his muscles gradually loosen and his breathing become deeper. Slower. You wondered when the last time, if ever, he’d been touched like this. When was the last time he had someone help ease the ache, helped bring him some peace? He made a sudden noise that pulled you out of your thoughts.

“There.” He sighed as your fingers worked in circular motions at the base of his neck.

“Here?” You smiled, pushing harder, and the sound his throat made sent a flood of heat throughout your entire body. His deep moans had you tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to ignore the hot throbbing between your legs. “See I knew you just needed someone to help you relax.”

You could practically feel the pain and frustration leaving his body as his large hand covered your own, pausing your movements.

“Sit with me.” Joel’s voice was husky, the deepest you’d heard it tonight. He let out a heavy exhale when your hands left his body and you rounded the couch to straddle him. His thighs were strong and sturdy beneath you, giving you a nice seat.

His large hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, and you let your own hands trail up his solid chest and into his hair. You ran your fingers through the messy wisps of gray. Finally, they wrapped behind his neck and you pushed your lips to his.

It started slowly, a little hesitant on his part until you reached down to guide one of those large hands on your lower back down to your ass. Then it was more.

You never enjoyed the taste of whiskey until you tasted it on the tongue he had inside your mouth. He groaned, low in his throat, and it made your head spin. His hands squeezed at you through the fabric of your short dress and you pressed yourself closer, feeling him harden beneath you. You kissed him deeply then, sliding a hand lower as you did. Your tongue dipped into his mouth at the same time you curved your fingers over the shape of his cock, feeling the swell of it under his jeans.

When you pulled away breathlessly, Joel chased you with his mouth until you were too far out of reach, slinking down to your knees. You gazed up at the entirety of him, at the hard rise and fall of his chest, at the way his glossy eyes stared you down as you made quick work of his belt.

“Starting to feel bett-” Your taunt was cut short by the surprise of his thumb in your mouth. One of those large hands slid down his thigh and up the side of your face, pressing his thumb inside, the pad of it resting on your bottom row of teeth. He pushed down and forced your mouth open. You trembled at his sudden dominance and the vulnerability of it, feeling your pussy grow wetter and wetter. You were glad you were already on your knees because your thighs shook and his pupils blew wider.

Joel’s other hand met your face, framing your cheek. He slid the roughness of his fingertips down against the shape of your lips before pressing another thumb inside your drooling mouth. His eyes grew darker and he leaned in like he was inspecting you. He then pushed both thumbs down on your tongue, pushing back until you gagged.

“Gotta make sure there’s enough room in there for me, baby.”

You whimpered as he pulled your mouth wide.

“But you take cocks all the time in here, don’t you? Bet you’re a pro by now, huh?”

He let you go, giving you a chance to catch your shaky breath.

“Does that bother you?” You hissed, playing into it, “That this is what I like to do?”

“That you like bein’ a slut?” Your heart pounded at his words. You’d heard it all before but never the way Joel said it.

You answered by eagerly reaching back out for his hands that had gone back to resting on his thighs. You pulled both thumbs back into your mouth and sucked. You swirled your tongue around them, getting nice and sloppy, letting your drool run down onto his wrists, giving him a show of how good it felt to have something big and solid in your mouth. He let you have your fun for a moment until he was pulling them out again and you couldn’t help but whine.

“Fuckin’ needy girl,” He groaned under his breath as he rubbed your spit over your lips, playing with them until you were absolutely aching to have him down your throat. Your trembling hands traveled to the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down. The noise he made when you finally got a hand around his thickness was guttural and you wanted to hear more. Fuck, you knew he’d be big. You stroked him slowly, wanting him to ache just as badly for it as you were. It was already so hard, the head wept with pre-cum as you fisted him the way you knew men liked.

You hated to let go but you needed him to use you right fucking now. You rested your hands on your knees and parted your swollen lips, presenting your face for him to take. Joel slapped the tip against your mouth. You tried to lick out at it but he pulled away, smirking when you whined in complaint.

“Please,” Your eyes squeezed shut, your cheeks burned in embarrassment when you realized how quickly he had you beneath him, yearning for a taste of his cock. But god, this was precisely what you’d been craving since the moment you'd seen Tommy going around and introducing him that very first day.

“You gonna beg for it, sweetheart?” He held what you desperately wanted in his hand, just barely out of reach, teasing you so meanly. Want quickly squashed any embarrassment and you didn’t care how pathetic it made you sound when you mewled out for it.

“Yes,” Your voice was meek, “Daddy, please let me suck your cock.”

His eyebrows raised, “Daddy, huh?” He brought his cock back down your face, smearing pre-cum down your chin, “Ya call ‘em all that?”

You shook your head fervently. And it was the truth. None of your usual encounters had ever had you this strung out before they even started fucking you, none that you would’ve ever even considered calling “daddy.” None of them ever had you on the verge of tears with need like this.

“Say it again,” He ordered and you could actually feel the arousal dripping.

“Daddy,” You moaned sweetly and something in him broke. All hesitancy, all the apprehension within him was gone. He finally rewarded you as he thrust inside your mouth. You heard him hiss above you as your lips wrapped around him. God, he was so big. Bigger than you’d taken before. But as you’d made clear by the events of tonight, you loved a challenge. You moved your hands to curl around the back of his calves, holding yourself steady as he pressed deeper inside.

"Shit," He cursed, "Fuckin' look at ya, such a pretty little cockslut.” Saliva dripped down your chin and all you could do was take it as he started fucking your face in earnest.

You were gagging but it only made him go faster, his fingers thread through your hair to pull you back and forth. The noises you were making were depraved and you’d be surprised if you weren’t dripping onto the wood floor beneath you with how wet you were. He used you like a toy, barely able to breathe, barely able to keep your eyes open, but you tried your hardest because the sight of him looking down on you in awe as you took all of him, calling you a whore… it was beautiful.

He lost himself in it, throwing his head back, making those delicious noises. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he pulled you in hard one last time, holding you right there, pressed up against his base. You forced yourself to breathe through your nose, to not break, to surrender to him as his cock pulsed against the back of your throat.

Tears were rolling down your cheeks by the time he’d finished ruining you and pulled out. The filthy choking sob you gave when he did set him over the edge, releasing ropes of cum over your tongue and chin.

“Daddy too big for you, baby?” Joel groaned, sounding wickedly amused as you gasped, attempting to regulate your breathing. He pulled you back up into his lap and you crumpled against him. He brushed stray hair from your tear-soaked cheeks, cooing something about being a good slut. He wiped his cum from your face, holding it to your lips for you to lick from his fingers. His cock twitched again as he watched how desperate you were despite being this wrecked already.

“Y’alright girl?”

“More,” Your throat was burning so your plea came out as a weak, hoarse whisper. Your thighs rubbed together unconsciously, the throbbing was almost unbearable at this point and he knew it.

“More?” His laugh quickly turned to a groan as you gathered the strength to pull your sopping panties to the side and shifted in his lap, dragging your hot pussy against the length of his shaft. Your clit ached from the friction and you slid an arm around his neck to give yourself the leverage to start rocking your body back and forth on top of him.

“This pussy’s fucking starved baby, thought this whore would be satisfied, taking cock on the regular.” He tutted. “S’fuckin’ crying for it.”

A loud wail tore out of you as you increased the pace, about to cum before he ever even got inside you. But he stopped. Hands at your waist, halting you just before you reach your peak and your pussy clenched hard around nothing.

“Joel, no…” Your head fell in despair, too far gone to care about anything but needing to cum. He lifted and situated you above the head of his thick cock. ‘Yes, yes, yes’ is all you could think as you realized what he was doing.

You both gasped, mouths against each other, stealing each other’s breath as you sank down onto him. You took every last delicious inch, letting it stretch you until you were fully seated on him.

You couldn’t control the tears that ran down your face from how fucking full, how fucking good it felt having him breach the deepest part of your cunt. Your mind went fuzzy when you looked down to see where you were joined, seeing how his slick cock split you open.

“Look at you, baby,” Joel mocked you when he saw the way your mouth gaped open, “this what you needed? For me to fuck you stupid?”

“Daddy,” You babbled, fluttering all around him as he held you down still, molding your insides to his shape, “P-please, please, please.”

“Fuck yourself on me, use it, baby, let daddy see you cum.” He growled, his southern accent so deep, “Show me how pretty you and this pussy are when you cum. Must be good, the way you’ve got all these men lining up to share ya.”

A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when his hands finally released you, letting you move. They went to lift your dress up over your head, exposing your bouncing tits for him.

With your nails scratching sharply into his neck and shoulder, you raised then lowered yourself again and again and again. The obscene squelching sound and his glazed eyes on your tits brought you right to the edge once again.

“There you go,” his fingers dug hard into your hips to help you move once your thighs started shaking uncontrollably.

“Joelllllll,” You hiccuped, bouncing yourself harder and harder, chasing what you needed.

“Thought I was daddy,” He panted, his hands moved back to your ass and he gripped at you, slamming you down on his cock.

"D-daddy- fuck! Fuck!" You held onto him for dear life, your muscles turned to jelly as he thrust into your weeping pussy, letting him take over fully, just like he did to your mouth.

Then your cries went silent, mouth went slack, breath ragged. You came hard around his cock, harder than ever before, squeezing him until he was gasping against your lips. You swore you could hear him whimpering before you could only hear your ears ringing. Your entire body shuddered with white-hot pleasure.

“Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me,” You chanted through the aftershocks as he continued to rut into you, so fucked out of it you couldn’t even hear your own voice, “D-daddy, please, please, please...”

And then he was filling you, hips bucked up and cumming hard until he physically couldn’t anymore. He was at your ear, desperately moaning for you as you twitched around him, squeezing him, “Nghhhhh… hah, fuck, baby.”

His skin was burning, his eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched, pulsing so hard in your cunt, overstimulating you almost to the point of pain. Almost.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, this pussy…” He gasped, equally as overwhelmed as you felt when he slid out.

“Oh my god,” You held onto him tight, your bare tits pressed up against his still-clothed chest, just breathing him in as you attempted to calm yourself.

“Let me see it,” He exhaled heavily.

“Hmm?” You shook, face buried into his neck, feeling his sweat on your cheek.

“Need to see it leaking out. Show me.” He rasped.

You whimpered at his order when you realized what he wanted. He didn’t give you any time to regain your strength, he simply flipped you over the arm of the couch. He groaned as you bent yourself over the edge, widening your legs to give him a full show of just how good he’d fucked you.

“Spread yourself for me, baby.” He breathed, his chest still heaving.

You did as he said, your hand reached underneath you, spreading your lips apart. You keened at the feeling, so overstimulated that you could barely handle your own delicate touch. His eyes followed the cum dribbling out of you and down your thigh.

“Fuck, that’s it, just like that.” Joel watched as he pulled his pants back up, buckling his belt. He reached out, sliding a hand down your lower back, making sure you stayed just how he wanted. You felt so incredibly naked in front of him like this.

“Fuck… can’t believe I just came in you… fuck,” He groaned as realization dawned on him. The spell broken.

“M’clean,” You moaned, head still fuzzy, “n’safe, I swear.”

He just sighed.

“Joel, I promise. I never let them do this.” You tried to move but his hand held you in place. You didn’t know if he believed you or not but it was true. It was your rule. You were always safe. Your heart pounded at the thought of how different it had been with Joel, how easy it had been for him to take full control of you. Breaking your rules without him even realizing it. You didn’t regret it one bit though. And you hoped desperately that he didn’t either.

Joel didn’t reply, only asking what he owed you. You almost forgot what the hell he was talking about.

“Don’t worry about it,” You sighed as he let you back up, stretching in exhaustion. There you went breaking another rule. They always paid you. But with Joel, it felt like you should be the one paying him.

“Tell me what I owe you,” His features hardened.

“Joel, I-...” You were taken aback by his quick shift, “It’s fine. I wanted this, you don’t have to-”

“That’s not…,” He ran an exasperated hand through the tousled hair you’d just had your own hands in, “I wouldn’t have done this, otherwise.”

You wiped at your thighs with your discarded panties as you tried to make sense of his frustration, the dizziness still in your brain making it difficult. You wondered if you should feel insulted by his statement.

“Jesus, it’s not a big deal,” You pulled your dress back over yourself before facing him, “Get something from the Outfitters or whatever. I don’t care.”

“You should leave. I’ll get you your payment but you need to go now,” He backed away from you, avoiding your eyes.

Before you could begin to try to wrap your mind around what had just happened, the sound of the front door being unlocked had both of your heads shooting up in time to see Ellie.

“Joel! I forgot-” The girl stopped hard in her tracks as she took in the scene of you and Joel standing awkwardly in the living room. It was silent between the three of you as she made no attempt to hide the way she was staring you down. Your face warmed again as you mentally thanked whatever God was out there that she hadn’t entered a minute earlier.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ellie turned to Joel, her brow furrowed.

“Ellie,” He scolded her language but failed to attempt any lie about who you were or what was going on. And you took this as your cue to escape because you had nothing to offer.

“Yeah…I’ll, uh, see ya,” You grabbed your bag off the coffee table and it took everything in you to walk and not sprint out the door.

#joel miller x reader #tlou fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller daddy #filth #smut

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joonipertree · 6 months

Note

idea for the Boxer!Katsuki and Artist!Reader AU! What if, ON TOP OF a rly bad day w college and being overwhelmed w work, we lost our paints :( n we luv our paints so we cry, but katsuki’s there to make us feel better and get us a new set :3

Thank you so fucking much for this. Idk if you knew but I'm actually making a portfolio for art school and Ive been crying every other night because of how stressed I am and how much I feel like I'm a bad artist. So writing this was cathartic

Part 1, Part 2

Tags: Dom/sub undertones, reader acting out and Bakugo being stern, a peak of what kind of shit I want with older men hsjsjsj, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft katsuki

Katsuki was one of the last people you wanted to see when you're in a bad mood. And that might sound terrible but it's because you never wanted to show such a harsh, negative side of yourself to someone you cared about. You were very much a 'feel and then reappear more regulated' type of person. But Katsuki never let you go home on your own anymore, picking you and dropping you off even on days where he had something to do.

So you trotted towards him with a scowl and no energy to fake anything and he noticed instantly, his own concerned scowl mirroring yours.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said and opened the door, closing it a bit too loudly. You cringed at the sound but buckled yourself in and turned away before the man got in the driver's seat.

"You're shit at lying."

"Fuck off."

Instant regret, a deep inhale from your part as you tensed.

Fuck.

His large hand came on your thigh and you stiffened, all he did was give it a warning squeeze before pulling away. The message was clear. 'Watch it'.

"I'm not willing to discipline you until I know nothing horrible happened but you do know I don't like that shit from you right?"

You said nothing.

"Give me an answer, doll."

"I'm an adult."

"Yeah, you are. And you're a smart one that knows that we have rules. That I'd be taking you over my lap if you talked like that."

Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them away, not willing to turn your head to show him.

He knew anyways and he dropped the subject, starting the car and driving off.

Katsuki pulled to a stop at a place that wasn't anywhere near your apartment. You were confused as he got out of the car. Your eyes followed him just as he entered a boba shop.

Oh.

A couple minutes later, he came out with a drink for each of you. You remembered when he said that there just wasn't any point of it, that it seemed stupid and too sweet. But pretty soon, he had his own usual order, which was just Brown Sugar boba tea with the sweetness to a minimum.

Katsuki gave you the drink without even looking your way, sipping on his own. You stared at it for a total of ten seconds before timidly taking a sip. The sweetness broke you out of your sour mood, eyes blinking as you focused on the flavour of your favourite tea. The boba was chewy and soft and it grounded you a bit.

Only after you took a sip, did Katsuki start the car and drive.

When you reached home, the apartment the two of you had started sharing a month prior, Katsuki only gave you time to take off your shoes and put down your bag before he had you over his shoulder.

You struggled, hitting his back and asking him to let you go but he didn't listen...not even feeling it.

And when your ass plopped itself onto the couch, your attempt at running away failed when he easily manhandled you in place.

"I'm not patient enough to coax it out of you, so tell me why you're upset. I'll make it better."

You wanted to refuse but the tears were already dripping down your face.

"I'm so bad at art. I'm so f-fucking bad at it. I don't-" you sobbed and his arms were instantly around you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried into him.

"There's so many deadlines and so many things I have to do and nothing is working. And I don't even know if I'm cut out to be an artist. I'm not good enough, I was never good enough for it. I'm gonna fail-- Katsuki I'm so tired."

Your boyfriend rocked you back and forth, giving you kisses everywhere he could reach, on the side of your face and your head and your hair. And you let the tears fall, hiccuping violently and sobbing without restraint.

"I even lost my fucking paints and I can't live without them and I saved up for them and I'm just doing everything wrong."

You let Katsuki envelope you, squeeze you and warm your inside as you let it all out.

When your sobs died down, Katsuki didn't stop peppering kisses everywhere. It took him a second to speak.

"I didn't know shit about art. It all seemed like fancy, time consuming pictures to me. Hell, even now I don't know shit. But when I saw your art, I felt stuff I thought I didn't know how to feel. And that was the first time I realised that maybe life didn't have to be as shitty as it was. Maybe things didn't have to be ugly."

"When we went to those art galleries, yeah they were cool and pretty but not gonna lie, nothing ever left me speechless like your art did. And yeah...I'm biased as fuck, especially because I thought that the look in your eyes was the prettiest out of everything. That sounds cheesy as shit but you make me feel cheesy as shit."

You had stopped crying, left drained and nuzzled against Katsuki while you looked for an anchor to hold onto. And he held you.

"I like seeing you paint the most though, I like how you focus...I like how you curse under your breath, I like how you grin when something looks right, I like how you scan art supplies before you buy them. I like your paint stained hands and your paint water mugs even when I've accidently taken a sip from them. I like that how you laugh when I do that shit. I love that look of pride you have when you're done and staring at it.

It makes you happy so even if I don't understand the point of it, it means a lot to me because of that. So, whenever that thing stops being fun for you, and really stops being fun for you, I'll support you if you wanna stop. But I gotta keep seeing your work, baby, cuz it's like the inside of your head and it's really neat."

You let a few more tears drop, sniffling and looking into his eyes. There was no ingenuity, only pure emotion. And you let him kiss your tears away, you let him pat your head and you let him make you drink water and feed you.

Because it was never a burden for him to do those things, but a priveledge.

The very next day, the same set of paints were in your bag. Brand new and untouched. Along with three different watercolour paper books. 100% pure cotton, 350 gcm.

With a note that said 'you're still down for a spanking for that shitty mouth of yours. Don't make it a habit.'

#katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n

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myfictionaldreams · 7 months

Note

Hey :) i would love to ask for a spicy Lucius Malfoy x Reader ☺️ something like Reader is a young Teacher in Hogwarts and Lucius and her are having an (very serious) affair (takes Place in the chamber of secrets).

The School Governor //Lucius Malfoy x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I've never written Lucius before, but hopefully, you'll enjoy it!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, infidelity/cheating, secret relationship, rough sex, creampie, fingering, squirting, tension, praise kink, size difference, Narcissa bashing (sorry!), kissing, fluff/angst

Words: 2.8k

my masterlist 📚

AO3 Link

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be here at this time of day, Mr Malfoy?”

The corner of the man’s lip twitched up like he was trying to smile but attempting to conceal it by remaining stoic. You were then faced with his signature sneer, those piercing grey eyes wandering over your appearance as if he was assessing whether he even wanted to waste his time. “It seems I’ve become lost on my travels around Hogwarts. Might you show me the way out?” Lucius asked with disdain thick in his voice

“Of course, Sir. Just this way”, you pointed in the direction you’d just walked from. No one even blinked an eye in either of your directions as you led him away from the grouping of students who were all on their way to bed as the night drew closer to curfew.

Your head remained forward, not once looking over your shoulder to check if he was following as you knew that he would be. You thanked Merlin for having an office so far away from students and other professors as the main offices were already lived in. You were new to the school, recently hired to assist Madam Pomfrey with Herbology, as she was too busy trying to attend to the Mandrakes.

The job may have been due to the recommendations of the man following closely behind you, his cane clicking against the stone floor and billowing close, switching the dust in whichever direction he turned.

As you both approached further towards the greenhouses and, thus, your office, there was a blossoming of heat and anticipation spreading from the centre of your chest to the tip of your toes. This was always something that your body seemed to do whenever within arms reach of the school’s governor. Moreover, he always seemed to be at the school nowadays, stating that he was there on school business, especially with the latest attacks on the students.

This is just an excuse, however, pretending to look around the school to catch the Headmaster in a scheme, but really, he would be sneaking to your classroom, office or meeting in the Forbidden Forest.

It was wrong. More than wrong. He had a wife, whom he was incredibly unhappy with, having been forced into a marriage as soon as he’d finished his time as a student at Hogwarts. All to abide by the pure blood status and traditions without any sort of say in the matter. Forced to live a life of misery, reproduce and have heirs and then die in a loveless marriage.

This was the only reason you had continued to meet with him. The ache in your heart quickly succumbs to his negative life. You knew he was manipulative, quick-tempered and had questionable ideologies on the dark arts. But when it came to Lucius Malfoy, it was as if your mind purposefully ignored these warning signs, mainly because he never discussed or acted in a horrible way around you.

You were always his peace and tranquillity, his little saviour in the dark before the world's realities came crumbling down around him. There you were, gifted with the raw, passionate, and incredibly loving man who held your hand when walking past, stroking your cheek to catch any slipped tears when it was time to say goodbye for a few more weeks.

It was a complex relationship to have and made even more so when you were now having to teach his son, Draco, who seemed to be a smaller copy of his Father, to be even more arrogant at his young age. It meant that you could give him additional help to boost his grades and, therefore, please his father, which, in turn, helped bring positivity into the secret relationship.

As you were greeted with the view of the long corridor that led to your office, your steps slowed as Lucius snapped, “Dobby. Check the area is clear for any prying eyes”.

With a flash out of the corner of your eyes, Dobby appeared and disappeared, apparating further down the corridor in multiple positions to check if the two of you were truly alone.

“The area is clear, Master”, Dobby approached before disappearing completely. You and Lucius rushed the remaining way to the office. You opened the door wide enough for him to follow through and slammed closed. As your wand waved in front of the handle, thoroughly locking the two of you in, a hand gripped your hip, turning your body so that your back met the door's wood.

A leathery gloved hand then cupped your jaw, tilting your face back so that Lucius could kiss you with as much desperation and urgency as you felt in the centre of your chest. It almost hurt with how much pressure his face was applying to yours, his warm breath fanning across the apple of your cheeks with where his nose was pressing. Your hands lifted to grab any part of him and ended up clinging onto the opening of his cloak, harshly tugging him even closer until there wasn’t a gap between your bodies.

Releasing a soft moan from your throat, this seemed to begin moving further, both gloved hands now cupping both of your cheeks in a safe cocoon as his thumbs caressed careful circles against your skin.

The coldness of the material wasn’t enough to satisfy your need for him as you dipped your head to free your mouth. “Off! I need your clothes off!”

Lucius’s baritone laugh burst across your face as he stepped back to give the two of you some room. “Such a demanding little thing, aren’t you?”

“I am when you’re wearing so many layers! Take them off!”

He chuckles at your reaction once more but finally begins to remove the cloak from his shoulders and gloves from his hands, next attempting to undo the luxurious vest jacket that he wore. The buttons running down the middle were taking too long for him to undo, so you quickly gripped either side of the best and pulled hard, surprised by your strength as the buttons began to pop off and tumble.

“Do you know how expensive this was?” he asked incredulously, but humour still danced behind his bright eyes.

“I’ll fix it at the end”, you say breathlessly, wrapping both arms around his neck and pulling him in for another heated kiss. A perfect mix of lips, teeth and tongue, all moving together, nipping, licking and sucking. Neither mouth pulled apart from the other, making the actions more frantic and chaotic with the attempts to remove more of the clothing articles. Soon, you both became frustrated by the barriers and settled for the basics.

Leaving your jumper and skirt on, you kicked off the shows, tights and underwear you’d been wearing as Lucuius kept his white shirt on but undid his leather belt to loosen his trousers and boxers until they were around his knees.

Lucius pulled back from the heated kiss first, but only so he could turn you around and push you face-first against the door. You huffed at the impact but soon were groaning in pleasure as he lifted your skirt and began to rock his dick against your folds, teasing you with gentle pressure before finding its home in your warm cunt.

“Silenco”, Lucius whispers, waving his hand as the atmosphere becomes dense as the spell renders the area soundproof. With the safety of the spell, your mouth fell open, and a barrel of dirty moans left your lips as you didn’t hold back from telling him how good it felt to be stretched by his cock once more.

Lucius dipped his height so that his forehead could rest against your cheek, breathing heavily as he thrust hard and deep. The pace was bruising to the side of your face, resting against the door, but nothing in the world would get you to stop at that moment. To be able to feel his thick length fucking hard into your pussy was something you craved every day.

As your hand reached the back of his head, gripping his silky white-blond hair, you gasped, “I’ve missed you”.

Lucuius groans as he nuzzles into your neck, biting the skin just below your ear as his arm moves around your waist, angling your hips so your arse is sticking out slightly so he can deepen the thrusts.

“I’ve missed you too, little witch. So much more than you could ever know”. Your heart could have stopped at his words, falling even more in love with him than you had before, which tightened your drenched walls even further around him. “I know you’re close. I want to feel you cum around my cock Darling, cum for me like the good witch I know you are”.

As he praises you, the arm around your waist slips beneath the front of your skirt so that he can roll your clit in circles, matching the pace of his hips. Your thighs tremble, fingers clenching his hair until it hurt, but Lucius didn’t stop until you were crying out in pleasure, cunt clamping in spasms around his length, and he, too, joined you through his own orgasm.

Lucius didn’t stop rolling his hips until you were sated and calm from cumming, and his seed had soaked as deep as he possible, caressing your cervix and then dripping out down your thighs. The two of you sighed in contentment, staying together, pushed against the wall, and just appreciating the moment you had tangled against one another.

“I didn’t expect to see you for at least another week. Have you come because of the attacks?”

“I feel as a good Govenor; my answer should be yes”, he whispered against the shell of your ear, nipping the lobe with his teeth, causing goosebumps to rise down your arms. “I can’t deny, however, that it was you that brought me here. I meant it when I said I missed you”.

Even with his softening cock still inside of you, he knew how to make your knees tremble as you blew out a long breath as you asked, “Can you please stay?”

You could feel his shoulders dropping and knew his answer before he’d even begun to speak, and sadness spread through your body, replacing the euphoric sensation. Lucius gently kissed the back of your head as he carefully eased himself away from you, “I’m sorry, my love, you know I can’t”.

Smiling to hide the upset, you turned to him, “I know. I’m sorry I always ask; I just hope that one day you’ll be able to say yes”.

His warm hands cup your cheeks delicately as you do the same for him, carefully moving some of the messy strands behind his ears. “I’m sorry”, he says earnestly.

“Could you stay for a drink at least?”

“I would never say no to a drink with you”. Lucius began to dress, looking significantly more chaotic than before but always looking crisp before leaving. All you managed to do was pick up your discarded clothes and shows, straighten your jumper and wait for him to wave his wand between your legs, cleaning up the mess he had created with a smile.

Walking further into the office, you entered through the hidden door at the back of the room leading directly into your living area. The fire sparked to life as soon as you stepped onto the roof, instantly filling the vast space with heat and an orange hue. Pouring the both of you a hefty glass of dark liquid, you both cheered the glasses together, taking a deep swig of the alcohol that burned your throat deliciously and then settled into the sofa.

You sat remarkably relaxed with him, leaving your bare legs thrown over his lip as his arm settled around your shoulders to keep you close as you watched the fire lights dancing with the flickers of the flames.

“He’s nearly top of the class, but I think he’d have a hard time trying to best both Longbottom or Granger”, you explained sometime later as Lucius asked how Draco was fairing in your class. The man scoffs, only earning him a slap to his chest, “Hey! They’re my students; stop that”. Thankfully, he held his tongue and didn’t prattle on his biased opinions on pure-bloods or traitors, which he had quickly learnt was nothing you were particularly focused on. “Could I ask about what the governors are going to do about the attacks? I don’t want them to close the school, but it feels so dangerous now that students are being attacked”.

Lucius’ arm tightens around your shoulder as his lips press against your temple. “Nothing will harm you, Darling, and I’ve told you this already: I can’t speak of the Governor meetings. We’re sworn to secrecy”.

“It’s not me I’m worried for. It’s the children. It means - aren’t you worried about Draco?”

Your head tilts back on his arm so you can look up into his effortlessly handsome face, expecting him to be worried. However, he only appeared to be as calm and in control as ever, his grey eyes dancing with yours and the bottom lip you’d tucked between your teeth.

“Not at all. He’s in the safest house with the safest blood. I have no worries for my son”. His answer confused you, but you’d just put it down to his many prejudices and superiority complex. Reach up to stroke the smooth sin of his jaw, and you can’t resist the temptation to lean closer and kiss him deeply, tasting the alcohol on his tongue that matched your own.

“What’s it like?” you ask between kisses, unable to stop yourself from asking. “At home, I mean, what’s it like? Do you have any happiness at all?”

“You know I’m not happy and never will be with her”, he answers abruptly, to look at you with a questioning gaze.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know you hate her”. You refuse to say her name both from shame and jealousy. “Do you have anything else that brings you joy? I hate the thought of you being alone in a big house with no one to give you any positivity”.

The hand lazily resting across your calves begins to draw circles into the skin as he contemplates his answer. “Without Draco there, I have no one. Narcissa and I may eat meals together, but that’s as far as it goes. We never talk; we even sleep in separate rooms. Everything is always for show, which is why these moments with you, where I get to be with someone I genuinely love, mean the most to me”.

You shake at his words, feeling the edges of your eyes water as you cling to him with even more desperation. What's more, the hand on your calf was beginning to slowly creep up the sensitive area of your inner thigh, distracting you from continuing the conversation as your legs automatically parted, giving him more room.

“Lucius”, you pleaded, eyes following his long fingers, the thick silver ring with the ‘M’ wrapped around his thumb adding extra sensitivity with the coolness of it against your skin.

“Shh, I’ve got you, little witch. Just relax for me”, he whispered against your temple as his fingers finally reached their goal. Your head tipped onto his shoulder as your back arched. All of your thoughts were centred on the skillfully trained fingers as he explored your dampening folds, spreading them with ease to give his middle finger the path to your eagerly awaiting hole.

You were a mewling mess as he eased two fingers into your cunt, coating the digits in your juices and rocking them in and out carefully. Lucius began to move the arm around your shoulders, relaxing his hold so he could lie you down on the sofa as he leaned over you, his mouth hovering just above yours.

“Are you going to be good for me, my Darling?” he asks, his warm breath teasing you once more as your legs try to clamp his hand in place.

“Yes!” Your shout was abrasive, but only because he’d already caused you to become a pathetic mess. Lucius smiled against your lips but didn’t move to kiss you properly as he applied more pressure with his fingers and thumb and stroked your clit.

You could feel his soft hair falling around your face as he began to curl his fingers inside of you, pounding that one spot within you that had you seeing stars. You weren’t able to say a coherent word as moisture squirted from your cunt, coating his fingers and wrist as he continued the action at a hard and fast pace.

The sloshing noise was obscene to your ears as he made you squirt over your thighs, sofa and his black trousers. You weren’t even sure you’d came as everything went from 0-100 with how intense his fingers had made you feel.

When he slowed his curling digits, you were a gooey mess in his arms. A grin erupted across your face as he sighed into the cushions, leaning further into his chest as he kissed your temple, allowing you to catch your breath.

“I must go; it’s getting late. You know I love you, my little witch”.

“I love you too, Mr Malfoy”.

#lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy smut #lucius malfoy x reader #lucius malfoy one shot #harry potter smut #hp smut #mine*

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pixelchills · 2 months

Text

Chill's ramblings about the DCA fandom and personal feelings and issues towards TSAMS (both positive an negative):

(I'm writing this like an essay but treating it like a diary, so if I jump from subject to another, it is because I am just typing as the thoughts hit my head. Sorry for being so wordy.)

I simply feel like I need to write my thoughts down, so why not share them with you. Maybe you can validate my feelings or something, I don't know.

Intro:

So, oof, I got a fic rec from @thedenofravenpuff and I'm loving it so much I really wanna draw fan art for it...

But the problem is that it's a TSAMS fanfic and I've sworn to my name I'll never draw anything related to the show because that will make me engage with a part of the fandom I'm not comfortable with.

My biggest issue with TSAMS:

I have such complicated feelings towards the show and its fanbase and I do not wish to make my life and work more difficult because of it as it already is.

My own work and characters are already constantly being compared to TSAMS. When I first introduced Solar to my fic, he was constantly being referred to Eclipse from TSAMS. Now that the show had a character with THE SAME NAME, it has been even worse.

Dolldrop Moon has been compared to Lunar. Even though the dolldrops existed before the youtube channel was even created (and Lunar made his debut much later).

The biggest issue I've had has always been the fanbase, that takes the show as the canon for Sun and Moon from FNAF and uses it as an excuse to harass shippers like me because they think Sun and Moon are brothers.

I've first handedly seen the damage the fanbase has done to some of my friends who draw, or have previously drawn art for the show besides their own AUs and personal headcanons of Sun and Moon as lovers. I'm sorry to tag you, but @kriimhild and @fablekitty : I've seen how the immature side of the show's fans have treated you, I am so terribly sorry you've had to defend yourselves over and over again for things that were not meant to be mixed up.

I have posted some ideas of a possible Animutant Moon and Sun forming a polyamorous relationship with Solar in the future of "My Dear Daffodil" on my personal/adult Twitter account. Someone kept commenting on my posts that I was glorifying incest, because Sun and Moon were brothers and Solar was their cousin.

The post had "Animutant" in it. Not "TSAMS". These comments came from a person saying they were 19 in their profile. So it's not just kids who can't tell not every fanwork is about TSAMS. It's starting to be some adults too.

Vice versa I've had another person comment on my very clearly SFW Twitter how they're following me because I am an adult artist who draws TSAMS incest. I have never drawn TSAMS art. I ship Sun and Moon, but they're never related with family bond, because I love presenting them as lovers.

Why I ship Sun and Moon:

Because I am a hopeless romantic. I love romantic love. Every single story I write is always about love.

The only exception to this is the Poppy Playtime comic I am doing. But even then, I was originally planning for a romantic love between Dogday and the Player. Yet, I decided to leave it, and keep the relationship open for any type of representation the reader themselves will prefer.

I used to watch The Sun and Moon Show when it first started airing. I loved their playthroughs. I had a big distaste for them calling each other brothers, as well as some of the first "lore" videos they had. My biggest issue at the time was how Moon treated Sun, though. As someone who grew up with an abusive sibling, it sometimes just hit a bit too hard at home.

But it got better after Eclipse and Lunar appeared. Moon was more caring, and I started to really like his character development. There was one episode where Sun explained to Lunar that he and Moon had simply just "decided" to be brothers, despite not having a canonical relationship.

This actually made me really happy. Because the Old Moon was aroace, the love he felt was simply never meant to be romantic, but platonic. And by making Sun his brother by choice clearly indicated that Sun was always the one he loved the most - in a way that was suitable for aromantic person like him.

And it really made me enjoy the show for a while. Sun is my favourite character, and despite not always liking the way the show presents him, I always feel so much love for him, no matter the AU he is in. So I loved that Moon loved him more than anything, even if it was just platonic. Because I've always been under the impression that the canon Moon loves Sun, and is only under a virus to protect him. For me, the best part of any Sun and Moon AU is to know that Sun is the most important thing to Moon.

Why I stopped watching TSAMS:

And then that Moon I had really started to like, who loved Sun more than anyone else but just platonically, died.

It hurt so much I simply stopped watching the show. I've watched a few episodes here and there after that, but I am having a hard time liking the show the same as I did before.

Partially it's because of the fanbase. Partially it's because I don't find the lore very interesting and some of the stuff a bit repetitive. Partially it's because I am scared to see Sun eventually crumble up into madness, because he has been through so much.

I like the New Moon. He is funny and nice, what I've seen. His relationship with Solar has been interesting, and I genuinely hoped they would've been able to take the romantic route after Moon said he wasn't sure if he was aroace anymore. But as I said, I've only watched a few episodes after the old Moon died, so I don't know either of their characters that much to form any strong opinions about them. I just listen to the Monty and Puppet podcast once in a while and get a little inside to some of the lore that has been happening.

But hey, at least there's fanfics. Which is why I am rambling here today.

Fanfics:

It is a rare treat to find Sun x Moon fanfics that aren't simply just porn, or do not include reader inserts. So since my romance-filled brain needed something to fill the void, I've started reading some TSAMS fics with romance (that wasn't between Sun & Moon) and plot in them.

I know Solar was settled to be a "cousin" to the weird family tree of TSAMS. But I simply crave for Solar and New Moon to be at least queerplatonic. Solar is not from their dimension, no matter how much they decide they're 'cousins' it doesn't make him their real cousin or relative because they're not from the same world.

Sun and Moon are brothers but they technically gave birth to Eclipse, who then created Lunar so Eclipse is technically Lunar's parent and then brother and Lunar is Sun and Moon's brother and... do you see what I'm trying to say?

The family tree is so complicated that I don't think I'm a horrible person for shipping Moon and Solar and reading fics about them. Tell me if I am wrong though.

The FIC that is making me question everything:

So Puffy recommended this fic by @theinfamousdoctorf , "Eclipse Meets His Match".

I'm currently on chapter 40, and I am genuinely surprised how much I am liking this fic so far. It got everything; redemption and character growth, the representation of Sun as the good, glowing angel he is in my mind (for canon, and every AU. He is always perfect in my eyes I love him can you tell lol), slow-burn romance, drama, excitment, plot, jokes and funny moments... even if there are a lot of mentions of sex and sexual pleasure, it doesn't feel out of the place as there is so much more to it too.

Eclipse's redemption to become better and realising he is in love with Sun has been so interesting to follow. Sun deserves the love. I love when Sun is getting loved. I literally ship him with every other animatronic in the games and love it when people ship him with their self-inserts and OCs. Because I love him so much I want him to be loved in every possible universe he is in.

Even bigger bonus to this fic is the second pairing, Solar and Moon, which I already opened up about above. I don't know how much the fic is truthful to the canon lore of the show, but I wish to pretend this fic is the canon now /hj.

I love the characters and how they're written. I love the descriptions of their flaws and hopes and dreams. How vulnerable they can get. How closely they stick together. And as an appreciation for making me tearful and excited about fanfiction in such a long time, I would hope to be able to gift the author some fan art for their fic.

But I've sworn to not draw anything for the show. For my own good. I've got too many awful comments already from the fans of the show despite never doing any art for it. I am just scared it will turn things worse.

End words:

I don't know if creating a new alias would be the right choice. So my main name/account would be spared from the confusion that the show's fans seem to stirr into, where one tsams artwork turns all of the artist' work into tsams.

I don't care if the art style would be recognisible. The artist would be me, but not PixelChills. Just so I could gift something to the author of this fic that is currently saving me from the boredom of being unable to write my own.

Thank you.

(This text has been typed on my phone, so pardon for any typos).

-Chill

#pixel talks #rambles #tsams #fic rec #essay #sorry my head is simply just confused

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sixteenth-day-event · 5 months

Text

Welcome to the Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event!

This is an event designed to celebrate the Dream SMP's iconic 16th day of the month! Use a personalized prompt to create piece of art, writing, or something else that can be shared on the 16th!

Sign-up: CLOSED

This event is primarily focused on the DREAM SMP STORYLINE AND CHARACTERS, NOT the content creators. This is mainly because I don't know enough about the content creators to give prompts for them. However, if you can find a way to link the prompt you receive to the content creators instead of their characters, feel free to do so!

This event also TOLERATES ALL DREAM SMP CHARACTERS. Any negativity towards other participants is cause for a block. If you find that the content reblogged here makes you uncomfortable, you're very welcome to unfollow this event blog while still participating yourself!

How to participate:

Fill out the linked sign-up form to identify your Dream SMP interests. This information will determine what kind of prompt you get for creating your own work.

Approximately a week before the 16th, you'll get two asks from this blog in your inbox, each ask containing a brief prompt based on your interests. Choose one of the prompts. The reason there are two prompts is just to give you a choice in case you don't like one of them; you don't have to complete them both! If you strongly dislike both of your prompts, let me know so I can send more.

Use your choice of prompt to create a piece of art, writing, or something else—whatever you like! But remember, don't post it until the 16th of the month.

This is NOT a gift exchange, as all the prompts will come straight from me, the event-runner, NOT from other participants. This means that there is no expectation of quality, nor is there a minimum or maximum amount you can create. Works are only assumed to be small. You could write an entire novel or a single sentence; you could draw a 100-page comic or a 1-minute sketch; it's all welcome! You could even drop out at any time. Filling out the sign-up form only means that you will receive a prompt; it does not mean that you have to participate. This event is supposed to be as stress-free as possible.

On the 16th of the month, post your work! This could be as a direct response to the ask with your chosen prompt, or it could be a separate post. Either way, just remember to @ this blog and use the tag #sixteenthdayevent so I can reblog anything you create!

Event run by @elmhat.

#dream smp #dsmp #dreblr #sixteenthdayevent #personal month #mod posts #event posts

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oleander-nin · 6 months

Note

How do you think the yan turtles would react to the person they like having a crush on someone else?

A/N, not important: Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Stalking, jealousy, yandere behavior, murder, phone tapping, obstruction of privacy, tampering with messages, dark themes

Words: 1027

Summary: Headcanons of the yandere rottmnt when their love interest has a crush

Tag list: @f1oricide

Michelangelo:

You having this crush puts a crack in his perfect world view of you and him. He’d always thought that because he was obviously the one for you, you’d never stray from his side. Finding out about the person you admire makes him cranky and more clingy, his jealousy growing.

He’s in constant denial of your crush. You’re obviously in love with him, this is just a stupid puppy love that won’t last a week.

Despite hating hearing about it, he’ll be the one who offers to give you advice and such with your crush, constantly talking them down and trying to make you see them in a negative light. He’ll bring up their every fault and make things up to get you to hate them. He just wants you to see how obviously awful they are for you, digging down and trying to get rid of them in your mind.

Hang outs increase tenfold. He’s always wanting you to come over now and spend time with him instead of your friends or your crush. He’ll do everything to win you over, showering you with gifts and compliments. He’ll try to slide in little comments of how good he is with you, hoping to make you love him instead.

He’s much more reluctant to let you leave, always trying to come with reasons for you to stay by his side for as long as possible. He’ll insist on going everywhere with you, following you from the rooftops wherever you go. He’s terrified of your crush or you making a move while he isn’t watching.

If it comes down to it, he’ll visit your crush himself. He’ll threaten them first, but if they don’t back off, he’ll get rid of them. He’s always happy to let you lean on his shoulder while you cry. He can’t wait to comfort you now that they're finally gone.

Donatello:

Absolutely furious at the notion. If he doesn’t kidnap you right off the bat, he’ll immediately start to try and steer you away from them. He’ll dig up dirt and hack their phone to plant evidence of them being awful.

If he’s able to hack into their messages and such, he’ll send you hurtful messages from their accounts to drive a wedge between the two of you. He’s happy to help comfort you after you receive the ‘hate’ from your crush.

Deletes any apologies or meets ups from your phone and your crushes, making sure neither of you could ever make plans or apologize over text.

Starts talking himself up more when around you, stringing in little spiteful comments towards your crush in every conversation. After he makes you small trinkets or fixes your phone, he’ll be smug and compare himself to your crush.

Starts watching you more intently, not even letting up when you’re at school. He’ll text you more during the day so your mind stays on him.

If the crush persists longer than Donnie can handle, he’ll just kill your crush or kidnap you. Maybe even both if your admiration for them is strong enough.

He doesn’t trust you around others anymore, wanting to keep you safe by his side and away from any others that might ‘corrupt your mind’.

Raphael:

Is terrified and very angry.

He’s afraid this possibly dangerous stranger is taking you away from him, his anger towards your crush growing every time their name leaves your mouth or you get the spaced out love look when you think of them.

Your crush quickly becomes enemy number one in his mind. Everything that goes wrong, Raph blames them. You had a bad day? Crush’s fault. You can’t hang out because of homework? Your crush must’ve distracted you in class when you usually finish it. Everything and anything becomes their wrong-doing.

Raph’s the quickest to jump to killing them, his anger building as the delusion that they caused everything wrong in the world grows. He wants to get rid of them as soon as possible, the idea of them alive and in your life boiling his blood. Raph’s self-appointed job is to protect you, and if you’re off with someone who obviously causes you so much pain, the simple solution is to get rid of them.

Raph babies you for a while after he gets rid of your crush, slowly keeping you at the lair more and more before not letting you leave. You’re safer with him, after all. He can’t risk you falling in love with someone other than himself again.

Leonardo:

Tries to play it cool. Leo doesn’t get angry often, but this alone makes him heated. He feels betrayed by you, that your diverting love is a personal attack to him. He doesn’t care that you weren’t in love with him beforehand, you’re his.

He’s upset with you for choosing someone over him. He thought you loved him, even if it wasn’t as much as he loved you.

He becomes a lot more clingy with you, holding you close and trying to spend as much time with you as possible in hopes you’ll forget your crush.

Deletes them from your phone and constantly blocks them whenever he can. He doesn’t want you talking with them, and guilt trips you whenever you blow him off to hang out with your crush or someone else instead.

He’ll grumble about it for days before deciding what to do. He’s getting rid of your crush no matter what, but how he wants to do it depends entirely on how in love with them you are.

Keeps you close to him and pretends to be interested in your crush, wanting to get as much information on the person who won over your affections.

Kidnaps you as soon as he gets rid of your crush. He won’t even wait to wash the blood off his hands before bringing you home and setting you up in his room. He hates sharing your love, and refuses to wait long enough to let them win over your heart even more. You’ll forgive him one day, he’s sure of it, but as long as he has you in his arms he doesn't care.

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scribbledghost · 5 months

Text

Something Old

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (F!Reader, no Y/N)

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 4,013

Warnings: smut, collaring, d/s dynamics, PiV sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), praise, subspace, cockwarming

Note: this is a direct sequel to my other fic "Something New", which can be found on my masterlist. This can be read as a standalone, but I do recommend reading that one first. Tagging @trampondemand cause I think you asked me to tag you if I ever gave Something New a part two??

It takes several months for the collar to develop into a more prominent feature of yours and Simon's relationship. At first, it is seldom used, limited strictly to your bedroom and only brought out when Simon verbally requested it.

It takes time for you to pick up on the subtle tells that Simon has. The ones that indicate that he wants you to collar him, but that he doesn’t want to (or simply feels like he can’t) ask for it aloud yet.

And tonight, he has all of them going.

You can tell he's had a rough day at work the moment he walks through the door. You remember his brief sense of optimism earlier in the morning, because today was simply meant to be standard on-base work; training recruits, perhaps some meetings or briefings to attend to, but not much more had been on Simon's schedule.

But from the way he walks in, shoulders heavy and movements sluggish as he toes his boots off and tugs off his balaclava, something tells you that the optimism had been unfortunately misplaced.

He holds you close, head dipping to your shoulder to bury his face there. You feel him drag in several deep breaths and a soft groan rumbles through him as you reach up and scratch his scalp. It's like he's trying to bury himself in you, like he's trying to get so close to you that he can't tell where you end and he begins.

"Rough day?" you ask gently.

He gives you a muffled "mhm" from where his face is still pressed to your shoulder.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Another sound, this time in the negative, accompanied by a slight shake of his head where it rests.

He pulls away from you, but only far enough for him to nudge his forehead against yours and sigh.

"Jus' glad to be home."

You give him a soft smile, bringing one hand down to trace across a couple of the scars on his face. Your hand finds his jawline as you pull him in for a kiss, listening as he exhales through his nose and leans into you.

Simon pulls you close by your hips, a low groan leaving him as you slip your tongue into his mouth. As you deepen the kiss, you slide a hand back to the nape of his neck. You grip the short hair there and tug, and as you do so, Simon whines; a sound so soft you almost miss it.

Almost.

That whine is the only confirmation you need. It is the last vestiges of a too-proud man, pushed through his throat and out into the open air.

"Why don't you let me take care of you, Simon?" you breathe into the space between you. "Help you forget the day."

He eyes you for a moment, as if contemplating his answer. After some time, he nods.

“Why don’t you go get ready then? I’ll be right behind you,” you say, and he kisses you again before walking away from you and towards your shared bedroom.

He grabs one of the kitchen chairs as he goes.

By the time you enter the bedroom and close the door behind you, Simon is on his knees in front of the empty chair with his hands on his thighs, waiting for you. You walk towards the bedside table, gently petting his hair as you pass him. He leans into your touch, though he does not turn to look at you as you grab what you’re after.

The collar is well-worn by now, the black leather more pliable and comfortable than when you'd first fastened it around Simon's neck. The silver o-ring still shines, however.

As does the little metal plate off to the side that has your initials engraved on it.

"This what you want, Simon?" you ask as you sit in front of him, collar in hand.

"Yes," he says with a nod as he looks up at you. His eyelids droop as he tilts his head further upwards, presenting his neck to you in a practiced, familiar action.

"Please."

The quiet request from him brings a smile to your face, and you take your time fastening the collar around his neck in the way he likes best - not tight enough to constrict, but not loose enough to sag against his clavicle. After a quick check by slipping two of your fingers between the leather and his skin, you hook the same two fingers into the ring. You don't pull - not yet - but rather you let them lay there, acting as a slight weight against the collar.

Simon's head tilts back down as he looks at you through his eyelashes, a deep breath emanating from him.

"Can I touch you, love?" he asks softly.

You give him another smile.

"Yes, you can."

His hands find your knees and slide up your thighs, his body slotting between your spread legs as he settles his grip on your sides. His warm touch is just beneath your shirt, and you gently guide him by his collar until he's close enough for you to kiss.

"How far do you want to take this, Simon?" you ask softly. It's not unusual for the two of you to use the collar in a purely non-sexual manner when he's had a rough day; as a way to help you bring him down from the stress and adrenaline before building him back up.

Then again, it's not unusual for its use to take a turn for the erotic, either.

"As far as you'll go."

You hum thoughtfully, running your free hand through his hair.

"Want me to call the shots, huh?" you ask. "Want me to empty that pretty head of yours until all you can think about is doing what I tell you?"

"Yes," he breathes, his eyes rolling upward.

"You want to be good for me, don't you, Simon?"

A shudder wracks his frame, and you know he's settling into the proper frame of mind for what you've got planned. Just how easy it was to get him to this point is a clear testament to how sour his day must have been.

"I know you do, my love," you breathe to him as you kiss him again. "Always so good for me. Why don't you start by helping me out of these pants, hm?"

Simon nods, unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans slowly. Once you lift your hips, he slides them off of you gently, all while keeping his gaze on you.

Not that he could look anywhere else even if he wanted to, given the hold you had on his collar.

He starts to move his hands to the waistband of your underwear, but you stop him.

"Ah," you tease, "tell me what you want first, Simon."

"Wanna taste you."

The certainty in his tone sends a shock of warmth to your core. At first, you have half a mind to simply give him the go-ahead. Tell him to remove your underwear and make you cum on his tongue.

But what's the use of having a hulking, brick wall of a man on his knees for you if you can't have a little fun?

"Patience, love," you say with a sly smile. You let go of his collar and lean back in the chair, another spark of arousal flaring inside of you as you notice Simon subconsciously following your hand. You spread your legs wider, giving him full view of your clothed center.

"Taste me like this first," you tell him. "Then, if you do a good enough job, I'll let you take them off. Think you can do that for me, Simon?"

He nods, the silver ring on his collar jingling against the plate it's attached to. You hum in approval, placing a hand on his cheek as you rub your thumb along his skin.

"Good boy," you murmur. "Go ahead then."

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, then his arms are sliding beneath your thighs as his hands find your hips. After that, he wastes no more time before he dives towards you, pressing the flat of his tongue against the growing wet spot on your underwear.

If there is one thing you've come to know about Simon, it's that he does not do half measures. Not in the field, not at home, and certainly not in the bedroom. Even now, with only the passing taste of you on his tongue through the fabric, he's delving into you with all the vigor he holds. His breath comes hot and heavy through his mouth and nose against you, and his groans vibrate against your core.

It's not enough for you to come. You know this, and so does he, but the sight of Simon Riley mouthing at you as if there's no barrier between his tongue and your cunt at all is too addicting for you to put a stop to it just yet.

You reach for his hair with one hand, pulling him further into you.

"That's it," you breathe, "doing so well for me, Simon. So, so good for me."

His grip on you tightens and his eyelids twitch as his eyes roll upwards beneath them.

You remember how long it took for Simon to be comfortable with the overt praise you gave him. How he wanted it - craved it, even - but the line between not enough praise and too much had been an easy one to cross. He hadn't been used to it; not in such an open, vulnerable sense.

But now? Now that you have both explored and tested and eased into the dynamic slowly? He chases it. As soon as the piece of leather baring your initials is fastened against his throat, he allows himself to let go and accept any soft words you give him. It's still a fine line at times, but now it's one you've learned to walk without issue. A give and take between the two of you; a dance you both know the steps of by memory.

You sigh as Simon continues his ministrations, massaging his scalp as you close your eyes. You allow yourself to enjoy the sensations for a few more moments before you decide to show him mercy.

"Okay, love," you say, reaching down and hooking two fingers into the collar as you pull him away from you. He is slow to retract his tongue into his mouth, his gaze glossy and dazed. Fully drunk on just the slightest taste of you.

"You've done so well for me, Simon," you soothe as you take one of his hands and place it at the waistband of your underwear. "Go ahead and take them off. You've earned it."

He slowly does as you instruct, eyes never leaving yours as he removes the garment and helps you toss it aside. Simon's arms once again loop beneath your thighs, though he pauses before he dives into you.

"Wanna make you cum, love," he says lowly.

You hum, giving him a grin as you tug him closer by the o-ring on his collar.

"Then make me cum."

Simon has always been very good at following instructions.

The way his tongue moves is practiced and familiar; flattening against you in broad strokes before circling your clit. Wanton moans rumble through his chest as he helps you cage your thighs around his head.

If you pay close enough attention, you can catch small thrusts of his hips, struggling to give himself any amount of friction he can get against his clothes.

During previous trysts, he has paused to ask if he can use his fingers on you in addition to his tongue. There is none of that on this day, however. Another testament to how lost he is, to how much he needs to let go and focus only on your touch, your taste, your words.

Once again, you thread a hand through his hair as you talk him through it.

"Feels so good, Simon," you breathe, "keep going. Just like that, focus on my clit. There you go, good boy."

A full-body shudder coupled with a shameless groan rips through him, the extra stimulation causing your hips to buck as you grip tighter on his hair.

As if he's once again chasing your praise, he all but doubles his efforts, pressing his face impossibly closer to you and swiping your clit with a skilled touch. It isn't long after this that you feel the knot in your stomach begin to tighten, and you dig your heels into his back as a silent warning.

The coil in you snaps, and in your far-off, hazy state, you register Simon moaning with you as you climax. You're sure you're babbling praise at him as he works you through it, though you can't tell exactly what you're saying.

Once your body releases its tension, Simon slows his movements as well. You reach down between your legs to find his collar as you gently pull him away from you, and it takes a moment for him to lazily open his eyes as he gazes up at you. He gives you a lopsided grin, one you've come to know well. He's fully in his subspace at this point, pliant and ready for whatever you have planned next.

You pull him to sit up straighter on his knees, and he lets go of your legs as you lean forward to kiss him. As you do so, you let a finger run along the section of collar that bears your initials.

"All mine, aren't you, Simon?" you purr.

"Yours," he affirms. "All yours, love."

"Ready to keep going?" you ask. "Or do you need a minute?"

"More," is all he gives you in response.

You nod, then move to stand from your chair. His gaze follows you, though he obediently keeps his hands to himself. He watches as you remove your shirt and bra, and you feel his stare as you walk over and lie down on the bed.

"Stand up," you command.

Simon is quick to oblige, the joints in his knees popping as he does so. You can see the tent in his pants from where you lay.

"Now, I want you to take your clothes off - slowly," you say, your last word interrupting him as you notice his hands move too quickly for your liking.

He pauses for a moment, then begins to follow your directions.

He starts with his shirt, slowly tugging it up his body and over his head before discarding it on the floor. Next are his boots and socks, followed by his belt, which he dutifully unthreads through each loop in his pants. After that, he rests his hands near the button, looking at you with hooded eyes for permission to continue.

"Go on," you say with a nod.

His pants are removed slowly, leaving him only in his underwear. The bulge in the fabric is now markedly more visible, as is the wet patch forming where the head of his cock strains against its confines.

Once again, he pauses. Another step in the dance between the two of you.

Except this time, instead of giving him permission to disrobe himself, you sit up at the edge of the bed and beckon him closer.

"Would you like some help with these, Simon?" you ask playfully, hooking your index finger into the waistband as you look up at him.

At first, he only nods. Then, when you raise your eyebrows expectantly, he elaborates.

"Yes," he breathes. "Please."

You lean in to press a kiss to his abdomen, noting how the muscles beneath his skin jump at the contact. You help divest him of the last piece of clothing he has on, keeping your eyes locked on his as you do so.

Once he is as bare as you are (save for the piece of leather around his neck), you move further onto the bed.

At first, you only lie back and watch him. He keeps clenching and unclenching his fists, a clear sign that he's eager to put his hands on you. But, ever the good boy in times like these, he waits for your permission.

Finally, you decide to give it to him - but not in the way he expects.

Normally, when Simon is collared and at your mercy, he likes to see your face. Whether you're on top or he is is irrelevant, but he likes being able to watch your expressions. Likes being able to watch your mouth move as you praise him. Likes being able to kiss you.

But today, you decide a change of form is in order.

You turn over, lifting yourself onto your knees and elbows. You hear Simon swallow loudly as a breath is punched from his lungs.

"Come on, love," you purr as you turn to look at him. "Get behind me. You can lean over me and put your hands on the bed."

He is slow as he moves, as if he's searing the experience into his memory. Simon gets into position as instructed, draping himself over you as you feel his cock slide against your folds. His hips stutter, and you know he's struggling to keep them as still as he can despite his instinctual need to chase the friction your body provides.

You reach between your legs, guiding him to your entrance.

"Alright, Simon," you breathe. "Go ahead. But don't move once you're in."

Again, he's slow, a long, quiet groan leaving him as he buries himself inside of you. You feel him inch by inch until his hips meet your skin, and once he's fully seated, he releases a shuddering breath.

He obeys you fully, not moving a muscle as you adjust to him. It takes little time, your previous orgasm being more than enough for you to take him. His breaths are heavy and strained, and you know he is close to his limit of waiting.

It is a calm before the storm - one you know is coming, because you're the one about to create it.

You know Simon is pulled taught, a bowstring ready to release as soon as its handler commands it. All it will take is one simple command.

You give it without hesitation.

"Now," you start, reaching up behind you to hook two fingers into the o-ring dangling from Simon's neck. You yank him down closer to you, and he releases a moan that shifts into a growl as you do.

"Fuck me like you mean it, Simon."

You don't need to elaborate on the order. Nor do you need to tell him twice.

He takes you hard and fast, hips snapping into you with abandon. You still have a grip on his collar, rendering him unable to straighten his back; keeping him close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of him.

After a particularly hard thrust, the strength in your arms gives way, sending your head down onto the mattress below. Still, you don't release Simon, causing him to lurch forward with you.

It's difficult for you to tell which guttural sounds are coming from you and which ones are coming from him - his voice tends to pitch upwards when he's this lost in his headspace. It's a rare sound, but it's one you chase after anyway.

"That's it," you mumble, hoping he can hear. "That's it, just - fuck - just like that, Simon. Feels so good, feels so fucking good."

Another harsh thrust coupled with a pinched groan is enough to confirm he heard the message.

You shift your hips only slightly, just enough for him to nudge something deep inside of you over and over and over again. A haze descends over your mind, all thoughts leaving you except for how good it feels and how you don't want it to stop.

"God, Simon, you're so fucking good," you say without thinking. "Good boy. Good fucking boy."

Suddenly, you feel him still, his cock pressed as far into you as possible while he comes. With it comes a new sound out of Simon's mouth:

He fucking whines.

Not like the gentle, soft whine he gave you earlier, the one to indicate he was willing to be pliable and eager for you. No, this one is louder. Brazen.

Desperate.

It's a sound you have never heard out of your lover before, and you immediately make a mental note to do whatever it takes to hear it again.

The heat in the room is stifling as you both catch your breath. Simon further drapes himself over your body, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to the skin he can reach.

"Sorry," he mumbles, "didn't wait for you to tell me I could come. Got lost. Didn't... didn't realize-"

You shush him softly.

"You don't need to apologize, love," you murmur. His orgasm had caught him by surprise, just as it had you.

"You can go ahead and pull out," you tell him, releasing the hold on his collar. "Lie back and rest, I'll get something to clean us up with."

However, Simon does not follow your suggestion.

"Can we stay like this?"

You smile to yourself.

"Yeah, you can stay inside for a little while. But let's get a bit more comfortable first, okay?"

He huffs slightly when you move and pull his cock from you.

"Easy, Simon," you say, "it's just for a second."

You guide him to lie on his side next to you, and shift yourself onto your side facing him. You hook one of your legs over his hip and bring yourself closer, helping him to sheath his softening cock back into your heat.

"There," you croon as you extend an arm beneath his head to pull him closer, "good boy."

Simon's eyes flutter as his body shudders.

Normally, this would be the point in the evening when you would clean up, bring him some water, and make sure he's fed and comfortable. You would remove his collar and set it aside, and perhaps massage his neck if things had gotten particularly rough.

Not this time, however. The scene isn't over yet.

He hasn't returned from his subspace.

"Come on back whenever you're ready, Simon," you murmur to him. "I've got you. I'm here."

He curls into you, draping an arm over your middle and pulling you closer. His eyes close, and for a moment you think he's fallen asleep. It wouldn't necessarily be a negative thing - he once said he tends to sleep more soundly when he's down like this - but you know waking up later will be somewhat disorienting for him in exchange.

However, he's still awake.

And, if the way he gently cups your cheek to pull you in for a kiss is any indication, he's starting to slowly come back up from his subspace.

"Thank you, lovey," he rumbles.

"Don't need to thank me, Simon. Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm."

"Hungry?"

He pauses.

"...Yeah."

"Alright," you say, "I'll get us cleaned up in a few, then order some takeout. Sound good?"

Simon makes a soft noise in the affirmative. After a few moments of silence, you reach up and touch his collar.

"Want me to take it off?"

"No," he says. "Not yet. Like the way it feels."

He knows when he's finished wearing it, all he has to do is ask you to remove it. He always has free permission to remove it on his own, but he's told you before that he'd rather your hands be the ones to do so.

"You back up with me, love?" you ask. "It's okay if you're not. Just trying to gage where you are."

"'M back up," he says. "Jus' enjoyin' the moment. That's all."

He always does tend to get a bit sentimental when he's fresh off of a scene.

You bring him in for another kiss, sharing the oxygen in the small space between the two of you.

"Love you, Simon."

Simon's actions speak in ways his words can’t as he pulls you impossibly closer and kisses you again.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut #ghost scribbles

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