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rainylana · 2 days

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“Touch me.”

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie urges you to communicate your sexual feelings for him.

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, spanking, fingering, hair pulling, decrophylia, reader is bad at communicating feelings, somewhat shy reader, reader is afraid of annoying eddie about sex, daddy kink, use of sir, sixth month relationship, reader wants to be hurt by eddie, thumb sucking, basically a fic about my first few times having sex lmao, pain play, all consensual, some angst if you squint, language. let me know if i missed anything!

Eddie knew when there was something on your mind. He could feel your eyes staring into the side of his face, the way you shifted almost anxiously. The relationship was still somewhat new. You’d only been dating for six months, but still, he wanted you to be comfortable enough to ask for what you wanted. Which he knew what it was. Your hand would slip onto his thigh, rub it casually before disappearing back to your lap. Your head would muzzle against his shoulder, kissing his clothed skin before retreating back to your spot on the couch.

Eddie knew you had your battles with things. Sex did not come easy to you at times, nor did communicating about it. But you needed to use your words with him, otherwise neither of you would get anywhere.

It had been almost two hours into the film you were watching. It was late and he was growing tired, moderately buzzed from drinking. The living room was dark and glowing from the staticy light of the television.

“Eddie?” You finally asked, meekly.

“Hmm?” He hummed, arms crossed as his eyes barely blinked from sleep.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You know you can.”

It was quiet again for several seconds. He looked over to find you biting your nails. “What is it?” He sat up slightly.

You laughed almost awkwardly, shaking your head with a deep blush. “I’m…are you tired?”

He smirked just barely. “Yes.” But he was never too tired for sex. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?”

“No.” You shuffled your feet on the floor. “Do you…do you want to have sex?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, looking over at you with curious brown eyes. “I always want to have sex.”

You laughed too, a heavy one that was marinated in relieve. He didn’t reject you. You were always so afraid of that. You were so afraid of bothering him, getting on his nerves. Eddie had taken your virginity, and you weren’t that skilled when it came to sex. You didn’t know what to do at most times, but luckily Eddie knew what he was doing. Still, it made you feel foolish. You just wanted him to be happy, but you were just so damn touch starved all the time.

You always wanted him, but terrified he didn’t want you back. That it would be a sexual burden for sleeping with you.

Eddie cupped your cheek, bringing you into his side so he could hug you. “Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.”

He was so good to you, there was no reason to be fearful of him. You sighed heavily into him, nuzzling your body against his. “I’m just nervous. I don’t want to annoy you.”

“You think sex annoys me?”

“I just don’t want to seem needy or overbearing.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not, babe?” He looked down at you, lifting your chin with his index finger. “You don’t annoy me. You don’t overwhelm me. You worry me sometimes, because you’re always in your head thinking. I need you to communicate with me. That’s all I ask.”

Your eyes had teared up and you nodded, too emotional to speak.

He caught a tear with his finger. “I can’t always assume what you want. I need you to tell me what it is, baby. Tell me what you want.”

His mouth was dangerously close to yours, hovering, testing the waters, waiting for you to tell him exactly what you wanted him to do to you.

“I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is barely over a whisper. “Hard. Don’t be nice to me.”

He smirks just slightly. Your requests were just about as freaky as the things he imagined in his head. “Don’t be nice, huh?” He cocked a brow, dragging his thumb along your jawline. “What do you say?”

“Please.” You closed your eyes in a beg, already wet and throbbing for him. “Please, daddy.”

He pushes his thumb between your lips, passing your teeth and hitting the back of your throat. You suck it immediately, nibbling on his skin just barely. His jaw fall slack at the sting, chin raised in a dominant glare as he watches you. “Do you want me to hurt you?” He asks for you, knowing damn well that it’s what you want.

You’re blushing around his finger, popping him out of your mouth as you nod. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” You ask nervously. You were always afraid to communicate your sexual desires with him, too scared that it might frighten him away.

He can’t roll his eyes or laugh, he knows how delicate the topic is for you. “No, y/n.” He cups your cheek. “It doesn’t as long as it’s what you want. You’re still new to this. You need to go at your own pace. Just be yourself and I’ll guide you.”

You place your mouth on his, rising up so you can climb on his lap. Your hot against him, warm and throbbing. He can feel it. “Then hurt me.” You whimper, emotions building up in your chest, emotions you can never quite understand.

He kisses your neck, hot and sweaty kisses trailing down your skin, his teeth nibbling at your sensitive pale skin. His hands move down to your ass, quickly yanking down your shorts to grab you with thick hands. “You know your safe word. Use it when you need to. Don’t worry about me.”

Your heart begins to bang in your chest, hitting you with nerves and adrenaline, but you nod. You nod because it’s what you want and he knows how to give it to you. There’s no other person that can give you relief like the does.

“Stay still.” Your over his lap now, grabbing at the couch in front of you as he adjusts you to where he needs you, plump ass in the air and ready for him to do with what he wants.

“Yes, sir.” Your face is beet red, cheek pressed against your arm. You close your eyes, ready for what’s to come.

Your crying soon after he starts, whimpering and moaning as he spanks you, alternating cheek to cheek in a steady rhythm that has your legs twitching out from the uncomfortable burn. You move down to grab at his ankle, your cunt throbbing around nothing so painfully.

Eddie’s cock is hard, straining against his jeans as he cracks down his hand, leaving red marks on your skin that’ll surely leave a bruise. His panting, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck as he continues to spank you.

You lift your hips to meet his hand, begging for more and more of this punishment, if that’s what it was. Your choking on your tears, sputtering out a sob. “Ow!” You whimper.

He looks at you, but doesn’t stop. He knows you’ll stop him when you’ve had enough. You always do. Your ass is on fire and so is your pussy, leaking down your leg as you sputter out cries. “Touch me.” You beg, broken by your cries.

He stops as soon as you say the word, knowing you’ve had enough, and dips his fingers into your sopping wet cunt. “Did that feel good baby? You like it when daddy spanks you?”

You moan out loud, hot and pornographic at the feeling of his fingers. You can’t say anything only muttering a jarbled mhm. He doesn’t correct you for it, smirking as he fingers you quickly.

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” He lays his other hand on your head to stroke your hair, the other continuing to finger you. “Or do you want me to touch you like this?”

You surprise both him and yourself, climbing off his lap to attack his lips. He’s pushed to the back of the couch, limbs tangling together in a heap as you make love to his lips. “Fuck me, mean, Eddie.”

He groans into your mouth, hurriedly letting go of you to unbuckle his belt and free his long cock. He’s bending you over the couch, lifting your legs to hang off of the back so he can reach your hole. He teases you a lot about your height difference.

He moans when he pushes into your pussy and you sob out in relief, laying your hands on the couch to keep you from falling off. Your tits are bouncing underneath you, the sound of skin slapping together as he starts to fuck you.

He’s not nice about it, just as you asked. He’s hard and rough, fucking you mean and abusing your g-spot with heavy, deep thrusts that have you spewing out desperate cries.

“Oh, god!” You struggle to keep upright, your hands slipping from their position. “Fuck me, fuck, fuck me!”

He slaps a hand down on your red ass that makes you screech, recoiling back to his hips for more. He grabs a fist full of your hair, yanking you back up to him so your back is flush with his chest. “Is this mean enough? Should I let you cum? That’s mean, isn’t it?”

He fucks up into you sharply. “Huh? Tell me, angel.”

You’re begging to come, promising you’ll be good and you’ll obey him. He’s got you bent back over, grabbing your hips to thrust into you deeply, so harshly that you can barely form a coherent sentence. He bottoms out while he cums, shooting his load into you as you clamp down on his cock.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines

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bwere · 1 day

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SUKUNA R. LITTLE MISS SECRETARY

wc: 5.4k

DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT MASTERLIST

sukuna ryomen. notorious for firing his secretaries left and right—and despite the constant doting from your peers’ of this, you apply for an interview. if he wont take assurance in your words, what better way than to prove them—right?

warnings: modern!au, ceo!au, creampię, pssy eating, slight spnking, degradation, seduction, mentions of bawls, raw-doggin’, semi-exhibitionism, deęp-throating, filthy smut. not proofread entirely, may seem repetitive until updated.

[11:00am]

Ryomen Sukuna, infamous for firing his secretaries without regard for their backgrounds or talents. Their appearance—whether pretty or plain—held no sway; if Sukuna disagreed, they were promptly shown the door.

Gojo leaned back in his chair. Shoes kicked up on the table, rocking his weight to make the chair aloft above the floor in the slightest - before it clunks back down. "Are you sure you're up for this? You do know his secretaries don't even last a week before they're fired, right?"

"Or quit." Geto chimed in with an obnoxious slurp of his drink.

Gojo shrugged. "Exactly my point, even if he does hire you—I'd give it like a week tops."

It wasn’t as if you didn’t know–you were more than aware. And still, you chose to ignore their crude remarks.

Shoko, who had been silently observing the interaction, finally interjected. Her voice, a soothing balm, countered the mounting concern. "Gentlemen," she asserted, "I think our friend has had her fill of the negativity you keep putting in her head."

"Thank you, Shoko." You retorted, emphasizing her name with a sigh that mingled thankfulness with a teasing nuance.

"But I'm- you knoww, juust curious," Shoko persisted, her eyes searching yours for an answer. “What makes you want to take up the role of a secretary for him?”

Your friends' questioning looks prompted a brief moment of reflection. Why indeed? The challenge, the thrill, the chance to prove yourself? You knew the answer, but articulating it seemed more discouraging than facing the notorious Ryomen Sukuna himself.

Ryomen Sukuna, a name that sent tremors down spines, loomed large in the headlines. And here you were, recommended for a position under him. Why did you persist, knowing the outcome was likely to remain unchanged?

Your reputation as an efficient secretary preceded you, effortlessly navigating past employers. Your serious organization and unwavering commitment to schedules impressed every employer you’ve worked for.

Much like any employer, they clung to their stubbornness, refusing to acknowledge your skills or consider promoting you.

Why? Pure greed.

To make matters worse, you were never compensated fairly for keeping their businesses afloat. Instead, your hard work was consistently overlooked, and someone else often claimed credit for your accomplishments.

You begin to speak, recounting your past experiences, your friends gather around, hanging on every word. "Well, each of my previous bosses had their quirks. Mr. Tanaka was all about efficiency. He'd have me schedule his meetings back-to-back, with no breaks. Taught me how to manage a tight calendar."

Shoko sighed. "Sounds exhausting."

You continued, "Yup. Then there was Ms. Sato. Brilliant mind, but her focus skills were...lacking.”

Geto chuckled, “That’s a bit brutal, isn’t it? No mercy from you, I see.”

Gojo’s infectious barks of laughter echoes through the coffee shop, turning heads as patrons look over in frowns. “Ouch!” he cries out, feigning injury as Shoko’s elbow connects with a harsh nudge.

“Welll…it’s just that, I practically ran the office for her. It's pretty much where I learned to foresee everyone's needs and you know, take initiative."

"And Oh! Let's not forget Mr. Yamada," you spoke up with a huff.

“Uh Oh, not Mr. Yamada…” Gojo mocks teasingly, faking a dramatic gasp as he throws his hands in the air.

“Ah, yes Mr. Yamada,” you play along with Gojo’s theatrics, your voice laced with mock solemnity. “He was such a stickler for details. I’m talking—everything had to be perfect from reports to the scuffs on my shoes... So much that perfection became my middle name, if I must add.”

Gojo laughed. "He sounds more controlling than anything."

"More or less," you affirmed. "Though, each one taught me something valuable. That's why I think I can handle Mr. Ryomen. He's just another challenge to overcome."

Your friends shared glances, their expressions a blend of respect and worry. They understood the futility of doubting your capabilities. Your reputation for transforming challenges into triumphs was well-established.

“T’ah, Indeed, it would be a poor decision on his part to let you go,” Geto concurred, not once doubting your value.

“More like he’d be a serious idiot if he did.” Gojo said, his eyes rolling comically in a show of hatred for the entire idea.

“Besides,” you added with a smirk, “I’ve always enjoyed a good challenge. And Mr. Ryomen? He’s the Everest of bosses. Conquering that peak would be quite the resume highlight, don’t you think?”

Shoko’s giggles joined the chorus of agreement. “Truly, if there’s someone who can manage the notorious Sukuna, it’s you.”

Eventually, the conversation dove through a tapestry of topics, the cafe becoming a cocoon of your shared jokes and light-hearted banter.

Time, on the other hand—had places to be.

As your eyes landed on the plastic clock perched near the register. The benign ticking was a stark reminder that the afternoon’s grace period had expired, stabbing you back as remembrance of your planned afternoon kicked in.

“Oh my gosh- that clock right? Is it 11:30 already?” Your drink almost tipping over as you leaped to your feet.

Shoko’s eyes mirrored your alarm. “Isn’t your interview scheduled for 12?”

“Yes! How could it slip my mind?” A rush of urgency overtook you as you snatched up your belongings, the voices of your friends merging into a symphony of encouragement and last-minute tips as you dashed through the door and made a beeline for your car.

“Knock em’ dead!!"

[11:35am]

The name ‘COMPANY REP’ plastered on your phone’s lock screen, peering over as your phone flashed through your peripheral view. Feeling a wave of pressure as you read the name, it was Uraume, the representative for Ryomen.

Shit—you were still a good distance from the company’s location, about an exit to be precise.

Grabbing your phone from the cup holder, you tapped the green icon to answer. Uraume’s voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello, I’m just checking in about your interview for the secretary role at noon.”

You rose back from the steering wheel, as if it's inscribed in your memory to adopt a more formal posture as the cacophony of honking horns invaded the air around you. “Hello,” you responded, keeping your voice cheerful and composed.

“I’m on my way right now; I got caught up in a lunch rush.” You chuckled, hoping to ease the tension. “But I promise, I’ll be there.”

“Very well,” the representative said, their voice smooth. “I’ll be waiting by the elevator on the top floor when you arrive.”

Soon after, the line went dead, leaving you with an itching sense of anxiety.

For a moment, the thought of 'accidentally' skipping the next exit crossed your mind and boy did it sound good right about now.

But could you honestly deny the interest that lit within you? What might lay beyond those translucent doors—an opportunity for a fresh start, perhaps? Or was it the hand of destiny at play? Regardless, you stood ready for whatever awaited you.

[11:57am]

The clock in your head seemed to tick impatiently as you rushed toward the imposing glass doors of the corporation. Your interview was scheduled for noon, and you were already cutting it dangerously close.

You dashed through the revolving doors, the sound of your heels punctuating the quiet of the marble lobby. Approaching the front desk, as you requested a temporary ID pass. “Good afternoon, I’m here for the secretary position interview at 12 p.m.”

“Oh yeah! Uraume mentioned your appointment. Here’s your guest pass. The elevator to your left will take you straight to the top floor,” the receptionist replied.

“Thank you kindly,” you responded with a gracious smile.

“No problem, I’ll inform Uraume that you’re on your way up.” she added.

Pass in hand, you pivoted toward the elevator. The cool marble underfoot seemed to resonate with the flutter of nerves within you. The rhythmic click of your heels on the stone served as a metronome to your thoughts, each step a beat closer to a potentially life-changing interview.

The elevator was a sleek, modern contraption, its steel doors reflecting your anxious expression. You pressed the button for the top floor, and as the doors slid shut, you were enclosed in a small, quiet world. The only sound was the tinny melody of the elevator, a constant drone that mirrored your heart's unkempt thump.

As the elevator climbed, thoughts tumbled through your mind. Was stepping into this role the correct move? With the odds stacked against success, what made you different? Doubts swirled in your mind, each one more insistent than the last.

Soon, the elevator came to a lurching stop, and you were pulled from your thoughts. As doors slid open, you were greeted by the sight of Uraume, whose presence was like a beacon, cutting through the fog of your doubts.

Well shit, no turning back now.

Emerging from the elevator your eyes met with Uraume’s. Their face gave nothing away, yet their voice carried a note of caution. "I’d advise you to mind your words with Mr. Ryomen. He has little patience for ignorance."

You hummed with a tentative nod, you seemed to be endlessly made aware of Mr. Ryomen's reputation. Especially since your friends found out you were going to this interview—not a second went by where they didn’t bring it up. You felt as if you understood more than anyone how some barely lasted a day.

With a determined pep in your step, you proceeded down the dimly lit corridor, Uraume's silent presence a step behind.

Mr. Ryomen or rather—Sukuna, was a man of striking features, no doubt. His salmon-colored hair was always impeccably styled, and his piercing eyes held an intensity that could make anyone’s heart prone to failure. His sharp jawline was accentuated by a usually neatly shaven face, and his tailored suits always seemed too tight around his muscular build. He carried an air of authority and charisma that was both intimidating and captivating.

His allure extended beyond mere aesthetics. As one of the nation's elite CEOs, his reputation was built on groundbreaking tactics and bold leadership. His guidance propelled the company to new heights of prosperity and influence, cementing its status as a powerhouse in the business world.

Sukuna’s popularity was not just about his charisma either; it was his professional acumen that had everyone vying for his attention. Aspiring candidates flocked, eager for the chance to bask in his aura and absorb his energy. Expectably, they fell short. Sukuna’s expectations seemed to soar to stratospheric levels, ones that even NASA would find daunting to align with.

And you’d be lying if you didn’t find yourself wondering what it could be like by his side. Waking up everyday with a pool in your panties—because you’d get to see your attractive boss calling your name by his side with need.

As Sukuna’s success and influence grew, so did his reluctance to admit the need for support. The absence of a secretary began to take its toll on the productivity of his team, especially his representative’s.

Snapping you out of your thoughts as Uraume halted just before Sukuna’s office door. “Good luck,” they offered, before making their way back to the elevator. You adjusted your form-fitting dress, a mix of poise and nerves. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you knocked with a dense one, two - three on the door.

"You may enter."

[12:02pm]

As you step into his office, the reality of the situation settles in.

Here was the man who had graced countless headlines, a visionary whose name was synonymous with success. Though, as terrifyingly lurking as the prospect was, you were determined to not just be another face in the crowd.

This was your chance, the moment of truth. Most of which people never got.

As your gaze met his, there was an undeniable pull towards the depth of his eyes, a fierce intensity that held a world of ambition and insight.

It's as if his gaze was trying to unravel you, like pieces of a puzzle, but you don't let it.

Sukuna sat there, the very picture of corporate elegance, his presence commanding the space around him. His scent, bespoke and expensive, filled the room with an air of dominance, while his hair, a striking shade of muted pink with whispers of black, framing his face perfectly.

Your heart races, but not out of fear – no, it's exhilaration. This is what you’ve prepared for, all those late nights, every challenging task, every impossible deadline you’ve made possible.

He caught you in the act of admiring him, a knowing smirk proud on his lips. "Enjoyin’ the view?" he tugs, before his expression shifted to one of business-like seriousness. "Uraume has mentioned your potential. It’d be best not to waste that."

The challenge was set, and the interview began.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your nerves in check. “I’ve always believed in simplicity.”

His eyebrow arched. “Simplicity?”

“Yes,” you said, leaning forward. “Complexity often masks inefficiency. A straightforward approach can yield remarkable results.”

He leaned back, intrigued. “Most people stumble over their words when they meet me.”

“You’ll find…” you begin, holding his gaze with unwavering poise, “that I’m not one to follow the common trend.”

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrow. “That remains to be seen.”

For the next few minutes, the interview wove through a conversation of intellect and subtlety. You navigated his inquiries with finesse, sidestepped the snares he laid, and even managed to steal a laugh from him. As time ticked on, a frisson of worry tinged your nerves, Uraume's cautionary words a distant murmur.

Sukuna's voice, a resonant timbre, stirred the air. His incisive gaze seemed to dissect your very thoughts. "Enlighten me, what makes you believe you deserve the job of working for me?"

You inhaled deeply, your reply sulking in assurance, "Mr. Ryomen, my expertise aligns perfectly with your needs. And when it comes to managing your expectations," you trailed, a sly smile plastering on your lips, "I have a knack for exceeding them in the most unexpected ways."

His eyes locked with yours, unwavering. "You're confident you're the one?"

"Without a doubt," you affirmed. "It's often the unassuming key that unlocks the door to brilliance."

He reclined, a contemplative shadow crossing his features. His stare never faltered. "You have a way with words," he observed, a trace of vindication in his voice.

"However, words alone are commonplace. Tell me, how will you demonstrate that you're more than just a woman with commendable references?"

You collected your thoughts, your confidence unshaken. "Mr. Ryomen," you began, your tone imbued with conviction, "I'm a believer in the showance of action. Grant me the chance, and I assure you, my performance will not only meet but eclipse your…high standards."

Wonder sparked in his eyes, a subtle smile embarking at the corners of his mouth. "Oh?" he intoned, the word hanging in the air, ripe with expectation. "Well then, I await the proof of your claims, Miss…?" His tone dipped, a whisper of question in the quiet space between you.

"Think of me as your right hand, Mr. Ryomen," you replied softly, your voice steady despite the intensity of the moment. "I'm here to ensure that your every need is met, with precision and a personal touch."

His gaze was unyielding, tracking your every movement, a longing in the depths of his eyes. He observed you closely, a silent notice of your boldness. The air between you was charged, a palpable tension that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Without waiting for a response, you motion around the desk. Circling the desk with calculated steps, you maintained eye contact, now before him. Mere inches away from his face—the moment was ripe with possibility, the beginning of a partnership that could redefine the very essence of collaboration.

And slowly, you begin to unbutton your dress, exposing a bra with lace details that drew attention to your tender breasts.

"I'll be your right hand in the office," you murmur, letting your dress slide off your shoulders, just barely baring your smooth, supple skin. "And your left hand..." You trace his strong jawline with your fingers, savoring the slight stubble. "...whenever you crave a touch of pleasure."

Sukuna's eyes darken in covetous as he sinks in your intentions. "Impressive initiative, but it'll take more than that to convince me, beautiful. I have very specific requirements and expectations that need to be met."

Unpersuaded, you choose to escalate your lure on him. Feeling the firmness of his growing erection pressing against your thighs, you straddle his lap. Your grin - sluggish, your folds damp with elation in your panties as you hush, "I plan to take care of all of your needs, Mr. Ryomen. Actually—I intend to surpass them."

[12:30pm]

His breath retracted, as you pressed your soft breasts against his pecs and began to undo his suit jacket, exposing his toned, muscular chest.

Your fingers trailed down his warm skin, sending goosebumps through his body as you explicitly avoided the growing bulge in his slacks.

“Mmm, Mr. Ryomenn—I know you’re aching," you murmur, your fingertips tantalizingly weaving over his torso. "And I have just the perfect remedy to alleviate that stress. Shall I show you?"

Sukuna nods in agreement, his eyes broadening, feeling a surge of lust that leaves him thirsty. The curiosity about your limits conquering over his mind.

You slip off his lap, your body slithering to the floor on your knees, your lips forming up into an enticing grin. With slow, careful manuvers, you undo his belt and unzip his slacks, releasing his thick, hard cock. A soft moan escapes your lips as you take in the sight of his length, throbbing with urgent need.

You take the tip into your comforting, wet mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, tasting the sweet dribbles of pre-cum. Humming with delight, sending vibrations through his core as you take in more of him, sucking gently.

Sukuna's eyes just want to roll back in pure pleasure—a deep groan escaping his lips. "Mnh, is that tha’ best you can do?" His right hand rests atop your head, ghostingly guiding you as to respecting your pace.

It’s all just motivation, as you suck harder, taking him deeper until your eyes start to water from the intensity. You hollow your cheeks; as you take him the deepest you can go with a gag. Your head bobs up and down, your hands gently cupping his heavy balls.

"That's ittt—suck me, show me how bad y’wanna be m’ lil secretary," he grunts, his hips thrusting in rhythm with your mouth. "That fuckin’ mouth s’gon’ be the death of me."

Your actions are fueled by his words, whining in return as your thighs rub together nothing but static—yearning for some attention. You slip a hand through your panties, slipping a finger in your aching cunt, feening for your own release.

He observes the scene below him, almost studying as you multitask your way through the pleasure. Ensuring not a single strand of his clothing gets into contact with the filthy mix of your saliva and his pre-cum. Admiring the way you finger your dependent pussy, all the while taking him so deep down your throat, managing to slobber down to the base of his cock and swallow everything back up like it never existed.

You take pride in your work, and he was now experiencing it. In fact, if anything it turned him on more. He might even have to make you his toy if you kept on.

Sensing you're close to the edge, Sukuna suddenly pulls his cock out of your throat with a disgusting pop. His cock now drenched in fluids from your lovely torment. “Aht aht, Strip.”

You obey his orders without hesitation, his eyes roaming your body as you strip. Visibly tracing every curve in your silhouette. Fantasizing the things you might have in store for him, his dick twitches against his skin, swelling more and more each second.

“There y’go, stick that ass out f’me.” He stares at you - appetizingly, becoming ravenous at the way you're already hunched over his handcrafted mahogany desk.

In a matter of seconds, purely to provide him a better view.

You braced your weight on the edges of the cold surface. Pressed palms onto the glossy wood—hypnotizing him as you began to squirm your ass in his direction.

"Like this, Mr. Ryomen?" you spoke as if you were completely innocent, your lashes moving in a way that made it appear like you weren't attempting to play coy.

Maybe in another universe he’d fall for it—but not in this one. He delivers a sharp slap to your ass cheek, leaving a stinging sensation that only makes your pussy wetter. "You jus’ keep gettin’ sluttier and sluttier, huh?"

He snakes his veiny hand between your legs, thanks to the pad of his thumb, he prods at your delicate clit, reaching a soft whimper out of your throat. You attempt to clamp your legs together, but his big hands keep them apart as he proceeds to drive two of his fingers deep in you—instantaneously, without any delay.

"You’r so fuckin’ wet f’me." He taunts, his breath hot against your ear. "You like that, don' you?" His fingers slide in and out, his thumb continuously twisting at your burning clit.

"Y-Yes Sir…" you cry out, your body becoming weaker under his touch.

"Sukuna." He cuts off with a sinister chuckle, "Call me Sukuna."

You nod frantically, your hips doing all the talking as you mindlessly drag onto the lengths of his fingers. Grinning wolfishly, he moves his thumb in slow circles, working your clit. "Well, aren't you just a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes?"

"Oh my fuck- it feels so good nmmh!" you breathe out, panting heavily.

“Yeah? I bet.” he laughs, adding a third finger, stretching you out deliciously.

He drove his fingers sickeningly deep into you, your pussy canal squeezing around them, seeking for more.

His persistent botherence made you gasp for air as you fought to keep your composure. Sukuna leaned in, his lips coming into contact with your neck, delivering a forceful bite.

“Mngh–Kuna’ ts’ hurts! P-please I wan’uh cuhm..!-” You cried out, arching your back—grinding your ass further against him in advance.

His fingers gradually came to a quit as he withdrew from your neck.

Your expression crumbling at his actions, “Please- don’ stop.”

But Sukuna doesn't let you have it. He pulls his fingers out of you completely—just as you're prepared to dive over the edge, leaving you empty and writhing in dissatisfaction.

He then raised them to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. He savored the taste with an exaggerated moan, letting out a contented sigh.

“You’re so fucking mmhn- delicious.” he murmured.

“Please…”

Sukuna's lips formed a sadistic smile as he lowly chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Please what?"

You picked at your bottom lip with your teeth, your thighs rubbing together like two wet sticks trying to starting a fire. Your pussy begged for more. "Please...fuck me.." you pleaded, your voice trembling.

"Not yet," Sukuna shook his head. "Get on the desk."

You hastily climb onto the desk, heeding to his instructions to avoid wasting any more unnecessary time. Relishing the brash feeling of the cold wood fatally against your back.

You’re embarrassingly exposed now—wide open for the man in front of you. The same man who’s about to search for your soul with his mouth. The same man who doesn’t plan on quitting until your dignities on his tongue–that is, if you had any left.

"Goood girl." He smirks, kneeling down between your legs. Forcefully restricting you from closing your legs as he peels them apart. You can feel the cool air of the room on your wet pussy. Shivering in anticipation as he darts his tongue out. Exploring every inch of your folds as he sucks them apart with hunger.

You possess handfuls of his hair—overflowing around your fingers, moaning as you draw him in suffocatingly. Fleeing your fingers through his strands rougher—when he hits - that spot.

"Mnghm–you’re sh’o fuckin tasty aren’tcha?" he whispers against your clit.

“Hnn…!” Unable to speak or barely catch your breath, you can feel your orgasm building again so easily, except this time you're not going to let him stop you.

He runs his tongue over your clit—your fingertips tightening in his hair as you hold him in place.

You feel his stubble graze your inner thighs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds, making you needier. He provokes your desperate shouts for more - laughing at how the octaves in your voice only seem to keep raising. But you can't help the moan that escapes your lips when his tongue flicks over your clit.

"Fuck, Sukuna…s’too m-much..!" you breathe.

He’s good—too good at this.

He chuckles against your cunt. His fingers digging snug into your thighs, holding you down as he continues to entice you, not once letting up for air.

“Yeah? Mgnh, s’that why r’you grippin’ m’ hair so fuckin’ mmhnguh tight?—” He licks and sucks on your puffy clit—sliding two of his fingers back inside you, fucking quicker than he did before. He's devouring everything he can like a vacuum - drowning in your folds as he does so.

You're so close, so fucking close, but he still won't let you cum. You can feel the orgasm burning inside you, your whole body tensing up as you try to hold back. But it's no use, you can't fight it any longer.

Sukuna knows it too, and he redoubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you to the edge. You can feel your breath shortening as you gradually get closer, until you can't take it anymore, your orgasm preparing to rip through you like a freight train.

"Please, Suh-S-Sukuna, can’ h-hold it gon’a…cumnnh!"

He looks up at you, a carnivorous desire in his tone. "Beg for it," he growls, his tongue melting over your clit again.

“Please, Kuna’, I'm begging you. P-Please let me cum…!”

He smirks, the taste buds on his tongue roaming faster over your cunt. "Go on baby, cuhm f’me like a lil slut," he murmurs, his fingers digging into your thighs brutally.

“Ahhnn–S’Kuna n’ cummin’..!” Your whole body quivers as you succumb to his charm, your orgasm overwhelmingly taking you. His tongue sucks on your pussy—gulping down your substances.

Descending from your euphoria, he begins to stand up. His hands, his face, his entire body—now saturated in your concoction.

[1:02PM]

Disregarding his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. His pants follow quickly after, leaving him standing in front of you with nothing but his boxers. You can see the outline of his hard cock through the fabric, and you can't wait to get your hands on it.

Sukuna hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and timelessly pulled them down. You licked your lips in conviction.

He reached out and cupped your chin in his palm, his thumb smoothing over your jaw. "You want this job don't you?," he whispered, his voice clouded in vanity.

You looked up at him, and nodded—your eyes following his lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Mr—S-Sukuna, I do.” He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. His lips were on yours, his tongue messily racing through your mouth.

You could feel the heaviness of his cock brushing past your leg, prompting you—of what was coming next.

“Y’gonna keep it all inside like a good girl right? Not g’nna spill any of it?.”

“Mhm! Gonna be a good girl, ‘Kuna..—” He placed his hands on the sides of your head as you laid back—the hard wooden desk becoming your only security. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne, and sex - becoming intoxicating.

Sukuna moaned into your mouth as you brought a hand below you and started to stroke him, his hips thrusting forward in time with your movements. He broke the kiss and looked down at you.

"Need’ t’be inside you," he seethed.

“M’ all yours, Mr. ‘Kuna…” You wanted him inside you just as much as he wanted to be there.

Sukuna grabbed your calves—hauling you towards the edge of the desk, positioning you so that his cock was aimed methodically at your oh, so—more than ready cunt.

He made a single, resentful, forceful thrust that went deep into you. You inhaled sharply at the newfound fullness, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock surging through your walls.

“Ahnn!..f-fuck-” you hiccuped as he started to fuck you harder. Inevitably slamming himself into you while lowering down to get hold of your hips—using them as leverage.

"Ts’like she’s made f’me," he grunted, his brows are pinched, the sight of sweat accumulating around his eyes, irritably blurring his line of sight. "Tight, wet, ‘nd fuck…perfect for my cock."

Sukuna began to roughly pound into you, each of his thrusts making you scream his name—resembling that of a prayer. His fingers now bruising into the flesh of your hips.

He was relentless, each stroke more forceful than the last. He made your legs weaken as he fucked you soulfully, the desk beneath you visibly quaking with each impact. Creaking with complaints as the legs of the table shook violently.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each thrust. You could feel another orgasm ready to burst through, the pleasure coiling within your belly as Sukuna's cock drilled into your guts. You pathetically clung to him, clawing at his back for some sort of stability other than the shaking table underneath you.

The sound of your bodies filled the room as the noise of his balls smashing into your ass reverberated. With every thrust that brought you closer to the brink, you could feel the heat of your own need enveloping inside of you.

"Ahn…! Don't stop, don't stop, p-please..!-" you cried out, your voice hardly audible anymore.

So, of course Sukuna’s only response was to fuck you harder, his hips ramming into yours with a force that made you see stars.

“F-Fuck…y’r cunts gonna squeeze me f-fuckin dry..”

“G-Give it t’me ‘K-Kunauh…!-” You chanted in desperation. His thrusts became more erratic at your vowels, his hips bucking wildly as he approached his own release. You could feel his cock cruelly plowing inside you, assaulting everything in its way, leaving no room for pity.

“Hughn- fuck..fuck…fuck..” He reiterated, guttural moans dropping from his throat as his cock probed inside you, signaling his impending release.

You tightened your muscles around him, you could feel his cum filling you up, each second his cock rested in you, was another second that caused your walls to pulse tight around him, confirming—he didn’t finish until the very last drop. As he subsided you into your own climax, the nubs of your feet kept him still. Milking his cock of anything he had to give as you both came.

[1:29pm]

BRRING BRRING BRRING

Being brought into consciousness, the noise of his office phone pulls you out of your lucidity—your naked bodies sweaty and worn yet, still exuding warmth from one another.

"Fuck," he grunted, pulling away from you and reaching for the phone.

"Ryomen here," he sighs into the receiver, his expression glum as he listens to his receptionist's next words.

Whilst you hurriedly put your clothes back on, you maintain your eyes on him, your body still stiff from the unnerving orgasms he had just tore from you. Sore from the constant torment he had inflicted upon your insides like a curse.

A curse you hoped for.

"Yes, I know, but I'm in the middle of something right now," Sukuna said, his eyes flicking over to you.

With a smile on your face, you gestured to him to continue.

"I want it to be canceled," Sukuna kept on, his eyes never leaving yours.

The voice on the other end of the line stuttered, “But s-sir, it’s an important meet-”

Sukuna cut her off, his tone firm. “I said cancel it. I’m busy.”

“But Mr. Ryomen, the client…-”

“I don’t care.” Sukuna interrupted again, his gaze still locked with yours. His eyes were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh tone he was using on the phone. “You scheduled it, so cancel it.”

He hung up and tossed the phone back onto his desk without any thought. He smiled softly as he turned back to face you.

“Now…where were we?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, the tension from the phone call dissipating. “I think…we were at the part where you tell me if I got the job or not.”

Sukuna erupted with laughter, amused. He grins "Is that right?"

“Tsk–well, in that case...” he paused, calamity radiating in his charming smile. “Better start memorizin' the way I like my tea.”

You laughed against his words, your voice resonating through his office. “And how is that?” you asked.

“Two sugars, dash of milk, brewed strong. Don’t forget.”

“Two sugars, a dash of milk, anddd brewed strong,” you repeated, a cheeky smile on your lips. “Got it.”

“Good.”

TAGLIST (if tag isn’t grey, i could not tag. also if you keep getting tagging notifications the taglist keeps glitching so I apologise): @jotarohat @lxchlaouch @izuuzuxuzuzu @nyamocka @deepenthevoid @shitpostathon-nbpw @yaygurist @sadityb230 @qlorin @partr1dge @mikyapixie @ventila98 @aydene @kizzyxren @tananaxx @tojideckmuncher @httpstoyosi @is-belluvism @shinrjj @sephraee @c4rm1son @theiridescentdragon @spindyl @guacam011y @brianmaysclog @sexicherri3 @kukigirli @puran-poli @ilivefortheleague @freakquencys @6demonize6me6 @mmeharuno @domainexpansionmypants @mermaidian02 @no-regrets-just-confusion @qv4nx11 @seelevoellerei @iloveboysinred @hoesbeforebros101 @glossygreene @kivrumi @distinguishedlove @ssetsuka @thisuserdrinkslavendertea @love-me-satoru @tyke2219 @paprikaquinn @skunkfeet @suguruswiifey @oidloid

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lurochar · 2 days

Text

Racy Reverie

In response to this ask

18+ MDNI

-------

“Finally, you don't know how much I need this!”

You smiled at Angel Dust, who collapsed on the opposite side of the couch from you. “I don't mind talking about your job if you need to, Angel.”

“You sure ‘bout that, Toots?” Angel Dust snickered at you, but then sighed almost wearily. “Not sure why you're the only one willing ta listen to me after a hard day, ya know? I mean, everyone in this hotel is a secret freak, right?”

You blinked.

“Little Miss Sunshine and Vagina – you've heard them go at it when they forget to put up their soundproof barrier, huh? Like damn, wonder who's using the strap there?”

That was true, they were quite loud when they failed to remember that important little detail.

“And c’mon, ya think that pussycat wasn't drowning in pussy himself back when he was an Overlord? Or maybe he likes cock better? I can’t tell with that guy. He’s got a good poker face, I can tell you that much.”

Honestly, you had no idea either which gender Husk preferred – he would probably choose a bottle of booze rather than a warm body if you had to guess.

“And Snakes? He has two dicks. Nuff said about that. And he calls me the whorebug?” Angel Dust scoffed. “And Niffty? Uhh, yeah, let’s… let’s just not get into her little mind of horrors.”

Well said.

“And so,” Angel Dust glanced up, a frisky smile suddenly gracing his face, “that just leaves you and Smiles. Spill, Toots. No need to be shy ‘round me. Don’t hold anything back. Everyone here knows you’re both a ‘thing’. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Creepy is into some fucking weird shit, isn’t he?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Alastor… isn’t–” You struggled to put it into exact words. “He doesn’t, well…” You scratched the side of your head in frustration.

“Ah, is he pulling the whole ‘proper gentleman’ bullshit? Doing the courting thing?” Angel Dust shrugged. “I remember you mentioning he died in the ‘30s or something? Does he really believe in the ‘no sex before marriage’ crap? Cuz let me tell ya, I died not that long after that, people weren’t as proper as you’d like to think they were back then.”

You glanced away. “Maybe… that’s a part of it.” You knew Alastor had little interest in the more intimate aspects of a relationship and he had admitted to you he had never done anything with anyone in either his mortal life and afterlife.

Of course you desired to touch him and for him to touch you beyond his own little affections – usually him placing his hand on the small of your back and perhaps a kiss on your forehead.

Alastor was not an affectionate man and you knew that going in and you respected that, but he had never outright told you it would never happen and so you could only hope it may happen one day.

“But this is about you! I said I would listen, you had a tough day, right?” You said quickly, earning a sympathetic look from Angel Dust, but he got the message to change the subject back to himself.

“Bleh, yeah, you got that right! Val’s into this thing called ‘bukkake’ right now, ever heard of that?” He earned a shake of your head. “It’s some Asian shit. It’s where multiple guys cum on you. So I’ve got like twenty Hellhounds cumming on my face – and fuck, dunno if you watch porn or not, but the loads some of those dogs are packing! Felt like I was fuckin’ drowning–”

Your face felt hot and Angel Dust’s voice felt distant as you unconsciously squeezed your thighs together. You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t exactly swimming in experience either as you only had a few sexual encounters in life and none had involved… that.

What would it be like, Alastor cumming on your face?

Would you be on your knees in front of him? On a bed beneath him? Would he stroke himself to completion or would you use your mouth? Would he call you endearing pet names or be degrading towards you?

Oh fuck–

“Hey, Toots! Still there?” Angel Dust broke you out of your fantasizing and you jumped, blinking and feeling your face burn with sheer embarrassment. “Shit, was that too much?”

“No, no!” You tried to wave it off like you weren’t affected. “I-it’s fine! You can continue!” You swallowed thickly.

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. I think I got what I needed off my chest. Thanks for listening to me, Toots.” Angel Dust stood up from the couch. “Wanna get a drink with me?”

You could definitely use a drink right about now. “Yes. Yes, I would.” You got up, heading over to the bar with Angel Dust.

Neither of you noticed the shadow listening in.

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader

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cyberseong · 1 day

Text

after hours.

pairing: seonghwa x f!reader

genre: smau, established relationship, idol au.

warnings/topics: there’s quite a bit of plot before it gets to the actual smut, seonghwa is pissed in the beginning, somnophilia, but everything is consensual, slight dacryphilia, dry humping, vaginal sex, plot twist(?) at the end ig.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: hi! this fic is slightly proofread but there’s still a possibility that there might be minor errors, but regardless, enjoy!!

seonghwa quickly exited the dressing room and back into the waiting room backstage; y/n was not present, so he began to check other locations such as the makeup and hair rooms and the small kitchenette.

he eventually concluded that she was simply not in the building.

seonghwa dialed her number over 10 times, each going directly to voicemail. anger was bubbling up in his throat; what reason would y/n have to leave the venue, especially after that was the only thing she promised not to do?

“hey, i know you guys don’t plan on leaving right away— but i’m tired, and… y/n is waiting for me at the hotel. so i’ll be leaving early. everyone did great and i’m so proud of all of you, but we’ll speak more tomorrow!” seonghwa tried to sound the kindest he possibly could, knowing the circuits in his mind were about to overheat and spark with fury and betrayal. he definitely didn’t want the rest of ateez to see him like that.

he ran out of the side door, immediately rushing to their van where their manager was waiting. “hey, could you take me back to our hotel early? i– i’m really not feeling well,” seonghwa’s words came out fast and nearly incomprehensible. the manager looked at him with worry, but he quickly nodded and started driving. their hotel was only 3 minutes away by car, so it didn’t take long for them to appear in front of the building. to seonghwa, however, it felt like ages until they reached their destination— he had no idea what y/n was doing right now, or even exactly where she was, and that thought alone was killing him.

as soon as the vehicle went into park, seonghwa jumped out of the van, quickly thanking their manager before rushing into the lobby. he entered the elevator, which, thankfully, was completely empty. he was way too distracted for fan interactions at that moment. his sole objective right now was to see his girlfriend.

slowly, the elevator approached the hotel's highest floor, and as soon as that ‘ding’ was sounded, seonghwa bolted out through the elevator doors and into the hallway. he found his way to room 1117, where he tapped his keycard against the door and opened it once he heard the lock click.

the room was dark, but he noted that the shoes y/n wore to the show earlier were the first thing he saw when he walked in. that was a dead giveaway that y/n was in this room.

“y/n. care to explain to me why you left the venue mid-concert? i’ve been looking everywhere for you, i mean you could’ve left a text, or a note, or someth– oh.” seonghwa’s confronting words quickly came to a stop when he realized y/n wasn’t listening; she was sleeping peacefully on the king mattress that swallowed the entire room. she wore one of seonghwa’s oversized animal crossing shirts and, from the dark out line of her hips and thighs, what seemed to be nothing but underwear on the bottom half of her body.

seonghwa’s entire being shivered at the sight— even imagining y/n coming back to their hotel room to wait for him like this sparked arousal within him. he took a deep breath before quickly kicking off his shoes, trying to get into the bed with the least movement and noise possible.

as his eyes had gotten a chance to adjust to the room's darkness, seonghwa could fully take in the view before him. the shirt had bunched up around y/n’s waist, presumably from moving around in her sleep. she wore a white lace thong that didn’t even try to cover her ass— seonghwa whimpered at the glimpse alone, his pants getting tighter with each thought that formed in his mind about y/n and he just knew he had to do something other than whine quietly like a bitch in heat.

seonghwa held his hips close to yours, thrusting up slightly in hopes of feeling any form of friction he could get against his dick. one hand of his rested on your hip as to hold it in place; the other remained over his mouth to block any of the sounds he was making from the oversensitivity. it’s not like an effort to keep quiet would work anyway— seonghwa’s lips were only a few inches from y/n’s ear, and they both knew seonghwa was rather vocal whenever he was worked up. the soft yet violent bucking of his hips against y/n’s soft skin caused her to move in her sleep a little, but seonghwa was too far gone that he couldn’t get his body to stop. tears began to drip from his eyes as his eyebrows furrowed, not being able to handle the feeling of his clothes against his overstimulated cock anymore.

his whimpers were no longer even given an effort to be held back anymore as he pushed his pants and boxers down his legs, using precum as lube before sliding carefully into y/n’s pussy in hopes that it wouldn’t wake her from her slumber. seonghwa couldn’t hold his moans in any longer as he bottomed out— his mind was overwhelmed in such an amorous haze, feeling as if nothing he was doing could help him reach his release. he couldn’t even thrust properly, which led to his hips randomly bucking harshly against y/n’s cervix. he was subconsciously holding a strong grip on y/n’s hips to the point where he was almost sure there would be bruises in the form of handprints in the morning. he placed is face against the crook of y/n’s neck in attempt to muffle the noises that proceeded to slip from his lips, causing vibrations to spread through y/n’s body. seonghwa felt y/n push back against him slightly— the unexpected movement caused him to snap as he immediately felt his body reach it’s climax. he thrusted deeply a few more times before pulling out, immediately painting his cum across y/n’s ass. his frame twitched violenty from overstimulation as he laid on his back, attempting to catch his breath and come down from his climax.

after a few seconds of silence, y/n turned onto her other side to face seonghwa. propping her head up with her arm, she confronted seonghwa. “you could’ve woken me up, you know i wouldn’t have minded.”

seonghwa jumped at the words— he had been way too fucked out to realize that y/n was awake. “what? wait, how long have you-”

“how long have i been awake?” y/n giggled slightly, placing a soft kiss onto seonghwa’s lips before she continued speaking, “since you came through the door, hwa.”

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #atz smut #atz x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fic #seonghwa fanfic

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jakesangel · 2 days

Text

flirting w jake ꣑୧

tw / suggestive ? just massive flirting n curses ><

jake IS a cockney bastard. he enjoys teasing you and seeing your reaction to him all flustered. your is his pretty pretty girl and his ego gets so bigger when he sees such beauty have such reactions just from his words.

everytime you'd get ready if font of him, he will tell you pretty words. but if he is in the mood, he will tease you. as you finish your makeup, and him being a good boyfriend by not interrupting you, is finally when he would come closer to you, leaving the door frame. my pretty girl, he would say coming behind you, hand on your waist. you'd think he would lean in to kiss your neck but he would come closer to your ear and whisper you're so breath taking baby as he would pull you close to him and so mine hmm. if he sees your reaction well according to his standards, he would go further into making you a shy mess, you like me whispering in your ear, don't you angel, finally kissing your ear, smirking in it. look in the mirror pretty girl, i want you to see how beautiful you are right now, he would add as you shy away. when you can finally look into the mirror, you will see jake's eyes already on yours, looking at you as if you're a his prey. his head would then go further into your neck and continue, look what you do to me, kiss, so fucking pretty for me, kiss, fuck you're so divine would be whispered as his kisses are scattered on your shoulders, nap n neck. when he's done kissing all the skin he can, he would finally go back to look at you, head on your shoulder, do you like what you see ? hed ask, his voice filled of desire, and as you nod, he would then turn you around, his hands on your lower back under your top, good girl, he'd whisper right above your lips, before diving in.

he also enjoys flirting claiming you in a group of setting. he would be looking at you, from afar not even caring to socialize, and seeing you so so pretty in front of others lowkey makes him jealous and needs to show off his pretty girl. he wouldn't mind coming over to you, and talk in his soft voice reserved for you, you're so pretty baby, did i tell you that today ?, as his hand would go on your lower back, his thumb robbing your skin. obviously, the both of you always get weird looks but as everyone knows how jake gets when he is with you, the atmosphere remains light. tho this is exactly what he is going for, he wants people to know that you, the most beautiful girl, is his and his only. he wouldn't back away even if you tell him that this isn't the time. can't i tell my pretty girl that she looks irresistible today ? he would answer you completely ignoring your protest and the circle leaving one by one, making you mad. come on baby, don't be mad. you're to pretty for that and they're not worth it, hmm ? he would grin as he comes in front of you, both of his hands on your waist. or you can keep looking at me that way, you look hot. and if you do stay mad, he would flirt but in a funny way, trying to break in your front, baby ? you look kinda ill, you must be lacking of vitamin ME, he'd say as he lowers himself to your height. no ? you're still mad ? alright then baby, but you're the one who asked for it, he'd warn you right before kissing you deeply, in the middle of the room, for the eyes of everyone to see. he wouldn't let you back away, holding on the side of your face, you're shy now ? it's your fault no ? i just wanted your attention but you wouldn't give it to me so i had to take it, no ?

notes : jake ໒꒰ྀི 𖦹 ̫ 𖦹 ꒱ྀི১

@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @iikeustar @txnwvc @oopshee

#enhablr #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake soft hours #sim jake #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #jake x y/n #jake sim x reader #jake fluff #jake x reader #jake headcanons #enhypen jake fluff #jaeyun imagines #enha fluff #jake enhypen

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ktgoodmorning · 1 day

Text

The Hangover

Patri x reader

You take care of Patri after her post-win partyting.

Warning for alcohol and brief mentions of throwing up.

Masterlist

As soon as the whistle blew, and Barcelona had officially won the Champions League, you knew exactly what your role would be for the next few days- taking care of your girlfriend to make sure she survived all the celebrations. You surely wouldn’t be holding her back at all, you wanted her to go out and let loose as much as she wanted to, you’d just be there at the end of the night to make sure she got home safely and hopefully drank some water in the process. Ideally if you did your job well, her celebrations and partying would be able to last as long as she wanted.

Patri was known to have some fun when the time was right. She wasn’t quite as irresponsible as her friend’s sometimes were (especially Cata), but after a win like this, she’d definitely be ready to party, and you’d be there to make sure she could.

You had already had your time to celebrate on the field with the team before heading back to the hotel with the other WAGs for you to change clothes and meet them at the after party. When the team finally arrived, you lit up at the site of your girl. She was practically glowing, overjoyed over the win, deservedly so. Her head was bobbing up and down above the crowd, jumping alongside Cata while everyone sang. Somehow her smile widened even further when she made eye contact with you, instantly starting to weave her way through the crowd to meet you.

“Babyyy!!!” She flung her arms around your neck in greeting and it was obvious that she’d already had a few drinks in her, both from the smell of alcohol on her and the way she leaned into you so heavily.

“Hola,” you giggled at her and the way she was hanging on you.

“Baby, I’m gonna be honest, I’m already reallllly drunk.”

“I know, Pats,” you laughed at her stumbling in front of you. “That’s okay, you have as much fun as you want, I’m not drinking tonight so I’ll look after you.

She pulled you in for a sloppy kiss on the cheek, “And that’s why I love you!” Your girlfriend immediately started pulling you towards the rest of the group, barely managing not to trip and fall as she did so.

That was about how the night continued on, Patri stumbling around while you followed and made sure to look after her. You didn’t mind, not one bit. You loved nothing more than seeing her so happy and carefree. She was so stressed leading up to big games like this so the change of pace was perfect. You could watch her like this forever if you had to.

The entire night was a mix of dancing, yelling, and drinking. At one point you found yourself sitting on your girlfriend’s shoulders, barely staying upright with the way she was moving all over the place. You tried to protest every time you almost fell but she’d always insist on keeping you there so you could see everything that was going on.

Eventually when it became the early hours of the morning, you and the other WAGs were tasked with trying to get your girls to the hotel for a couple hours of sleep before they had to be up for your flight. It was easier said than done though as most of the team were near blackout drunk, still running on adrenaline from the game, and not planning on slowing down anytime soon if they had any say in it. At the very least, you all had the advantage of having the best girlfriends imaginable who would do literally anything you all asked of them.

After you and Olga had confirmed your plans to call it a night and get them out, you made an attempt to find your girlfriend. It wasn’t a surprise when you found her in the middle of the dance floor, chugging a drink while Pina and Cata cheered her on. You shook your head at the site. She was going to be a handful to get home and get to sleep tonight, but you knew she needed this, no matter how terrible she’d feel in the morning. When she finished her drink, it seemed like she had half of it on her face, using the back of her arm to wipe the extra off her face before she looked up to meet your eyes.

“Baby, you’re here!” she instantly pulled you into her for a hug.

“Patri, I’ve been here,” you giggled at her some more as you saw Cata’s girlfriend starting to pull her off the dance floor out of the corner of your eye. “I think it’s time to get you home though, yeah?”

“But baby! Don y’wanna do some shots with me?” You were shocked her English was still as understandable as it was considering she could hardly stay upright.

“No, we need to get you back to the hotel, we fly out in the morning, remember? I don't want you to feel quite so bad in the morning.”

“Bad!? Why would I feel bad!? I feel soooo good!” she was yelling in your ear to be heard over the music.

“I know baby but I really think you should let me take you home!”

“Ooooooh taking me home? I like th’sound uh’that.” She finally let you start pulling her towards the door, albeit somewhat misguided, you’d handle her disappointment later. The midfielder was all but dragging you to the floor as she stumbled into you.

“Here, Patri, just put your arm around my- or just fall on me, okay, that works too I guess.” Instead of just throwing an arm around your shoulders like you expected, she had completely flopped onto your upper half, both arms holding on tightly to you. You basically had to use your entire body weight to drag her out to the taxi that was waiting for you out front, but somehow you managed to get her there without her completely falling to the ground.

You pushed her into the taxi first, you following closely behind. The second you sat down, her head was on your shoulder with her arms hugging your waist. Patri’s instant contact made it hard to buckle your seatbelt or get comfortable but you didn’t have the heart to try to move her off of you. “Y’know I love you, amor.” You could hardly hear her half-coherent mumbling but the words were unmistakable. Before you could even respond, you felt her go limp against your shoulder, sleeping the entire ride back to the hotel.

You weren’t quite sure how you did it, but somehow you managed to get her up to your hotel room, still only half awake. As soon as you got her inside, you got her onto the bed where she immediately flopped across it. “No, Patri don’t lay down yet we need to get you changed.”

The only response you got was a halfhearted groan into the sheets. While she continued to lay there, you grabbed her shorts and a t-shirt along with makeup wipe to try to get her ready for bed. Suddenly you were interrupted by her mumbling again, “baby, I don’t feel good.”

If there was anything that could get your attention, that was it. You instantly ran to pull her towards the bathroom.“No, no, no, don’t throw up on anything!” You pushed her towards the toilet as fast as you could and got her there just in time as she instantly emptied her stomach into the toilet in front of you. As she continued to cough up everything she had drank throughout the night, you pulled her hair into a low ponytail and rubbed her back lightly until she seemed to be done.

Your girlfriend looked at you with a face that could break your heart, so helpless and so exhausted. It was as if everything from the day before had just hit her, all at once, like a truck. “You’re alright, love, let's get you cleaned up and into bed.” You wiped her tears from her cheeks with your thumbs and let her fall into your shoulder for a hug before you pulled her up.

She continued to cling onto you as you wiped off her makeup and got her clothes changed, making it much more difficult than it needed to be. Just as you passed her her toothbrush, there was a knock on your door. “Can you please brush your teeth while I see who that is?”

Patri scowled at you but took the toothbrush which you assumed was her way of agreeing. You made your way to the door and checked the peephole before opening it to see Olga standing in front of you with a mug in each hand.

“I made some tea for Alexia in hopes she’ll have any sort of a voice in the morning. I figured you could probably use some for Patri too?” Her thoughtfulness made you smile. You assumed she must have already gotten Alexia asleep but the fact that she thought of you at all made you appreciate the offer even more.

“Olga, you’re amazing, thank you so much, I-”

“Babbbyyyyyy.” Your sentence was cut off by Patri whining for you in the bathroom.

Olga laughed, probably having experienced the same thing just a few minutes ago in her own room. “I’ll let you go deal with her, but text me if you need any help with her.” She passed you the mug and pulled you in for a brief side hug before heading back to her room, leaving you to go back to taking care of Patri.

“Pats, did you brush your teeth?”

“Noooo, it’s too hard.”

“Well all kisses are revoked until you brush your teeth, you smell like a hot mess.” She looked like a toddler the way that she was pouting at you with her bottom lip jutting out.

“Emphasis on hot?” You rolled your eyes.

“No, emphasis on mess. You need to brush your teeth before you can go to bed, come on.”

You shoved the toothbrush towards her again which she met with some angry incoherent mumbling. It was hard to be annoyed with her behavior though when she started to finally brush her teeth and listen a bit better. As difficult as she was when she was this drunk, you had no problem taking care of her.

“Puedes darme un beso ahora?”

“Si, ven aqui.” You pulled her back towards the bed before giving her a short peck on the lips. How she was still functioning at all, you’d never know. Once you got her in bed, you propped her up against the headboard and shoved the mug of tea in her hands. “Here, drink this and don’t argue with me.”

“But babyyyy,” as soon as she started whining again, you shook your head at her and forced it into her hands again.

“Patri no, your voice is already destroyed and you have to be up to fly home. You need it if you have any prayer of surviving everything tomorrow. Please just drink it, then you can go to sleep and snuggle with me as much as you want.”

Your girlfriend seemed to recognize the desperation in your voice, easily giving in after that. You weren’t sure what Olga had put in the tea but you trusted her like your life depended on it. Whatever it was, you knew it’d slightly improve her situation for her in the morning. Patri grimaced slightly as she drank it but still did as you asked before slumping back onto your shoulder.

“Lay down, baby, let’s get you some sleep. I have my alarm set so I’ll get you up for the flight, just see if you can sleep for a while.”

“M’not even that tired.”

“you’re falling asleep on me. Please let’s lay down?”

Whatever her response was, you couldn’t quite understand it, clearly already half asleep on your shoulder. You pulled her down into bed next to you and pulled up some of the covers around her. Leaving a gentle kiss on her forehead, you told her you loved her before laying down yourself, Patri instantly curling into your side. You’d never get tired of her lying like that, holding on to you as if her life depended on it.

…

You were woken up the next morning by your alarm going off next to you. While the sound was annoying to you, clearly it had a much greater effect on your girlfriend, instantly groaning loudly into her pillow. You remained silent next to her and just rolled to face her while running your hand down her back softly. “How are you feeling baby?”

“I’m never *hic* drinking again.” you chuckled lightly at her words but your concern grew at the sound of how rough her voice was.

“I know, love, I know. Unfortunately, we fly out soon so we really need to get up.” Her arm was draped across her eyes even though they weren’t even open yet. “Let me grab you something for your head, then we need to get ready to go. Drink some water though first.” You shoved your water bottle into her hands before getting up to grab her some medication for her headache. You got yourself up and ready for the day while she slowly drank the water and took what you gave her.

By the time you were ready, she appeared to be slightly more alive, although still looking (and sounding) much rougher than usual. “How are you doing now, love? Are the meds starting to help at all?”

Patri squinted up at you, still sitting on the bed, struggling to actually move. “I’m so tired it’s not even funny. I don’t know how I’m gonna survive today.” She winced as she spoke, clearly her throat was really bothering her along with all the other symptoms of her hangover.

“Well, I’ll do what I can to help you out. I got your clothes and everything out so all you should have to do is get dressed and I can brush your hair for you if you want. Plus I’m sure the drinks will be flowing again once you’re at the event, so some of it will become tomorrow’s problem.”

“You didn’t have to do all of this, love. You’re incredible. I love you so much.” It was as if she just realized that you had been taking care of her throughout all the celebrating. Even though you could barely understand her, it instantly made you soften as she looked up at you with eyes full of sincerity.

“I’m happy to do it, Pats. I’m so proud of you. And you’ve worked so hard to get here. I will gladly watch after you while you celebrate all this, you deserve it.” You had gotten closer, now standing between her legs while she remained seated on the bed. Your fingers ran through her hair gently while she just looked up at you in admiration.

“I’m so grateful for you, you know that?” she leaned her face into your body in a weird attempt at a hug. Her words just made you chuckle lightly. She was constantly telling you how grateful she was and how much she loved you, it was borderline impossible for you to not know that.

“I know, baby,” you leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Now let's get you ready to go and we’ll see if we can get any more of that tea from Olga for your voice.” Patri nodded against you and started to comply.

You knew you’d be doing the same thing the next day after they had their home celebration, but you couldn’t complain as she would often do the same for you when you needed it. The two of you would always be willing to take care of each other, even if it meant you spent your morning making sure she had extra sunglasses on hand at all times and didn’t throw up again on the plane ride home.

Requests and feedback always welcome and encouraged! Hope yall enjoy! Can't believe it took me over a week to finally get out any content on the CL win

Masterlist

#barcelona femeni #barca femeni #patri guijarro #woso x reader #woso imagines #patri guijarro x reader #wosoreadingpatri #wosoreading24/7 #fcb femeni imagine #fcb femeni x reader #patri guijarro imagine

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thrasherella · 2 days

Text

Dragon!hybrid who absolutely on purpose accidentally gets himself and his cute lil' human coworker trapped in the supply closet while everyone else is at lunch

...

"Was that the door?" she felt an uncomfortable lurch in the pit of her stomach, a little grunt escaping her as she was roughly pushed forward into the shelves.

"Fuck," he swore softly; she thought because he, like her, had realized that yes, the light 'click' they just heard was the door closing behind him, locking them inside the cramped space until someone from the outside opened the door.

The actual reason he had sworn, was because with the way they were positioned in the tiny space, her back was fully pressed against his front, and she was at the perfect height that her soft ass was jammed into his crotch.

He tried to move so that he could give her more space but it was impossible, ending up pushing further into her; she could feel her face growing hot as she became aware that his cock was nestled right up against her slit, separated by just a couple of layers of clothing. The thought of his thick, ridged cock being shoved inside her made her cunt ache, feeling a hot pang behind her naval, using every ounce of her willpower to keep herself still.

This was exactly what he wanted.

"This is the closet with the funky lock, huh?" of course she already knew the answer; everyone at the office knew this supply closet was jinxed, had an abnormally heavy door, and a lock that locked automatically from the outside as soon as the door closed, but for whatever godforsaken reason couldn't then be unlocked from the inside. She was just really, really hoping that she was wrong.

He could tell she was trying so hard to be nonchalant, but he could already smell her mounting arousal, feel the little shifts of her hips, the heat starting to radiate from her body.

She might have wanted this as much as he had.

"Yeah," he breathed, licking his lips, mouth suddenly very dry. "We're stuck until someone opens the door from the outside..." his voice trailed off, and there was a very pregnant pause, and then it was as if a sudden switch was flipped.

They were desperately grinding against one another, writhing within the small space, hips rolling and bumping as they tried to push themselves as close together as possible. She made soft moans and sighs as he hushed her gently, reminding her to be quiet.

"You don't want to get caught, do you? Or maybe you do, hnnnn? Do you like being watched?" his voice was unexpectedly low, and he felt his swelling cock throb as she gave a little whimper in response, but did not argue against him. "You do like being watched; what a dirty girl, I knew you were a freak," she heard his tail thump against the door the same time she felt his tongue, hot and wet against her ear, and she bucked her hips harder, a shiver running down her spine. She wished so badly to feel more of him, and as if he had read her mind she felt his clawed hands running up the length of her thighs, scratching her lightly, goosebumps racing along her skin.

He was unintentionally pushing her into the shelves, and she accidentally knocked over some spare boxes of pens and permanent markers, sending a couple of them clattering to the floor as one of his hands slipped under her skirt and quickly pulled aside her thin panties, pressing his digits against the outside of her soaked entrance. "Mmmmm, whoops--" one curious, insistent finger slid into her soft folds, and she was unable to stop the heady sound that fell from her lips. "You're just so wet..."

He fucked his finger in and out of her, adding a second digit, her sweet juices running down his hand and wrist as she drenched him, his unrelenting fingers brushing up against all the right spots. Mercifully, she'd found an old, spare blanket that was way back on one of the shelves, which she now pressed her face into, muffling her erotic cries.

"Fuuuck that's so hot," his breath was hot against her ear, voice again that low, rumbling tone. "Do it again..."

He made her come three more times on his fingers before he was satisfied, all the while feeling his rock hard cock grinding against her ass.

She felt a sudden molten surge of anticipation as she heard the clinking of his belt buckle being undone.

"Tell me little freak, is this your first dragon dick?" there was the soft sound of fabric hitting the floor, she felt the back of her pencil skirt being pulled up and something very hot was between her legs, pushing earnestly against her waiting pussy, her breath catching in her throat as he slowly filled her and then some, stretching her to her limit around his thick rod. She was seeing stars, feeling like he was going to split her in two as he made her take every inch of him. She had been right in her assumptions about his ridges, the extra texture rubbing against her insides in ways she hadn't felt before; it was amazing.

"Yeah," she managed to pant out, her legs already beginning to shake. "You're my first...it's so fucking good," she finished with a high pitched whimper as he gave a particularly rough shove, pushing his feet underneath hers so that she was standing on him. He held onto her hips, claws digging into her delicate skin, bouncing her up and down along his cock, pulling her back against him, using her like his little fuck toy.

Her mind clouded over, she couldn't think straight; all that she was able to process were the intense waves of pleasure that crashed over her again and again with every stroke of his cock, her pussy clenching and fluttering around his length as she came, squirting all over the floor and the shelves on front of her, his husky voice whispering and moaning in her ear.

"That's it cum for me baby...fuck you take me so well...I knew you would feel so fucking good on my dick; so wet and tight...cum for me again pretty girl..."

She became aware of something big pushing against her cunt, his rutting becoming more erratic as he fast approached his own climax.

"I'm gunna knot you," he grunted, grasping onto her hips tightly. "You're gunna look so pretty filled with my cum..." he abruptly rammed himself even deeper into her, his knot penetrating her already stuffed cunt and locking her to him as he gave a long, low growling moan, shooting her full of his hot load as he came. Her vision started to go black around the edges and she felt tingly all over, crying out in ecstasy into the blanket, coming with him for one final time.

She was overflowing with him by the time he was finished pumping out his orgasm into her, both of their juices mingling and staining much of the storage closet.

They remained entwined together as they caught their breath, his knot eventually relaxing and allowing him to slip out of her wetly, more of him dripping to the floor now that she didn't have his cock as a plug.

"You're gunna wanna clean that up before lunch hour is over," he chuckled lightly, getting his pants back on as his tail flicked against the doorknob, which turned and opened the door with ease. "By the way, the closet that does lock from the inside, is one floor up. We should really do this again sometime..."

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fanaticsnail · 2 days

Note

I fell asleep with spotify on and woke up to sea shanties. And in that honor:

Roronoa Zoro loves to drink. Everyone knows this. His high alcohol tolerance means he can usually keep himself in a pleasantly fuzzy state.

Still, there are times where he gets properly drunk. Absolutely blackout sloshed. And this poses the question of what to do with him? How to care for him?

That is, until Sanji joins the crew. See, the rest of the strawhats may be new to this sailing business, but not Sanji. Sanji was raised by pirates on the sea. Rowdy, fun loving, drink loving pirates. And he knows exactly what to do with a drunken sailor.

Snhsiwbehei this is so stupid. Just a silly thing that crossed my mind.

-♡♡ lots of love

Anything for you, ♡♡ Anon. What shall we do with the drunken sailor, indeed? I saw your ask about still thinking on the lazy sleeping Zoro. Thought I'd add a little more lazy swordsman in there for you.

Until The World Stops Spinning

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,000+

Synopsis: You have just come off watch-shift, just as Sanji wanders onto the top deck of the Going Merry. Both of you discuss what to do about Zoro's current state of inebriation. What shall we do with the drunken swordsman...

Themes: Zoro x reader, subtle sanji x reader, drunkenness, smoking, drinking, sleeping, written with the sea shanty "What shall we do with the drunken sailor" in mind.

Notes: I listen to shanties all the time when I write. It's seriously such a vibe. This anon comes up with the best prompts, and I seriously can't. Edit to add: That version above by The Irish Rovers is what I used to dance to when I did Irish dancing as a child. One of the old tunes that made me want to play violin.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @writingmysanity

Gulls singing their sweet song of the morning lingered in the air, the perch of several flocking members sat proudly atop the top mast of the Going Merry. The chef serving beneath the Straw-Hat captain wandered on the deck to enjoy his morning cigarette after setting aside the morning crepe batter to rise. What greeted him in the morning light was a sorry sight to behold.

The puddle of drool pooling from the corner of the sword wielding first mate’s mouth was indication enough that he was past the point of no return in his drunken stupor. His snore rattled and shook the top deck, the wood almost cracking beneath the intensity of the roar falling from his parted lips.

Standing over the first mate, arms folded in twine, stood the Going Merry’s latest member: the ship's counselor.

“Mornin’ chef,” you utter without turning away from the snoring first mate. Sanji pouted with a deep frown while placing the filter of his cigarette between his lips.

“Good morning, counselor. Good watch shift?” Sanji uttered while striking his flint and lighting the end of his cigarette. You nod, both of you not tearing your eyes away from Zoro as the deep rise and fall of his chest indicated traces of life within his death-like slumber.

“Not a single thing to report, aside from this thing here, of course,” you uttered, gently tapping your toes against Zoro’s thigh as he slept soundly. Sanji inhaled a lengthy breath of his morning nicotine, exhaling down at the swordsman with a soft scowl on his face.

“How many'd he have?” Sanji asked tilting his head and examining Zoro as his shaky snore.

“Around five or six, I think,” you bob your head before further clarifying, “Bottles, not short rounds.” Sanji clicked his tongue at the confirmation, gently shaking his head.

You turn towards the blonde chef, furrowing your brows and looking at him inquisitively.

“Chef?” you quirked up at him, prompting him to turn towards you in response, “You've probably had the most experience with inebriated sea-folk. Any quick remedies you can think of for this?”

“I can think of a few cures from the tales of old,” Sanji chuckled, his smile turning more playful with each passing moment. “Shave his belly with a rusty razor comes to mind.” You scoff at him, rolling your eyes with a soft chuckle.

“Zoro's stomach is as smooth as a baby bird,” you laugh at him, “Not a hair to rid him of, rusty razor and all.” Sanji hummed, pressing his index finger to his chin and thinking further.

“Put him in the longboat ‘til he's sober is the next classic suggestion,” Sanji took a moment to take a lengthy drag with a deep chuckle, “Or: stick him in the scupper with a hosepipe bottom, is another.”

“The Going Merry has no long boat,” you shrug, looking down at the snoring former pirate hunter and lulling your head to the side, “And I don't think he'd very much enjoy a swift spanking on the meat of his ass with a rubber pipe, in his current state.”

Sanji laughed in a loud and unbridled laugh, placing the cigarette on the ground and dulling it's light with the ball of his foot.

“Put him in bed with the Captain's daughter, then?” Sanji chuckled in glee, softly nudging your shoulder with his, “That's the only other option in the tales and shanties.” You nudge him in return before nuzzling your head against his bicep.

“While stringing him upside down by his ankles on the topmast is awfully tempting,” you remove your head from Sanji's arm, “We're better off just moving him and putting him to bed to sleep it off, aren't we? Wanna give me a hand, handsome?”

“Not really,” Sanji shrugged with a soft chuckle before reaching down and grappling one of Zoro’s heavy legs, “But I will because you asked me so nicely.” You shake your head, reaching down and aiding Sanji in bearing the brunt of the swordsman’s weight to take him below deck where the others began to stir from their sleep.

As Nami got up from the only bed, Usopp and Luffy rising from the hammocks, you gently aided Sanji in placing Zoro beneath the plush duvet and atop the mattress still warm from Nani's body heat. Shaking her head, Nami fishes a bucket from the side of the room and places it by Zoro’s head.

Stirring briefly from his drunken stupor, Zoro’s blurred and swirling vision glared up at you all before his gaze softened into a lazy smile.

“I… I love you guys,” Zoro’s soft, drunken drawl lazily called to you all before turning to gaze at you, “Ya’ done with the nigh’ sh-shift, ‘Selor? Gonna snooze?”

You look over at the crew, gently giving Sanji's arm a squeeze before he turns to begin breakfast for the crew wandering atop the deck. He smiled in response, gently bobbing his chin up and wordlessly telling you to get some sleep.

“Yeah, swordsman. I'm gonna 'snooze',” you confirm with him, turning to the hammocks and beginning to choose from the three suspended bed-spaces. Before you were able to move away from Zoro’s bedside, his muscular arms shoot out and snake around your midsection, tugging you into a warm embrace beside him.

Nuzzling into your hair, he takes a lengthy inhale and groans in joy at the body heat radiating from you.

“S’ay w’th me?” he slurred in question, already beginning to fall into slumber with you tucked in his arms. “Only ‘til th’ room s’ops spinnin’?” Facing away from him, you shake your head with a light smile before moving the duvet up to cover the both of you.

“Sure, Zoro,” you already feel the weight of your eyelids weighing you down the longer you linger in his embrace, “Only until the room stops spinning.” Both falling asleep almost immediately, a soft shutter of a Den-Den image conductor could be heard mixing with the harmonious snores reverberating within crew quarters.

Nami was going to hold those images over the both of you as ransom for more of a cut from your joint haul on this upcoming adventure. You both slept soundly enough to not care, dreaming of what new horizons lay waiting for you.

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princessbrunette · 2 days

Note

Driving instructor pope getting fed up with readers irritable and anxious demeanour and knowing exactly what she needs to calm down. Getting in the backseat , legs spread and gesturing her to come to sit on his lap 🤭 I die

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚

pope is staring at you expectantly from the back seat, legs spread — and you’re about to ask him if he thinks you’re a mind reader. with the attitude you’d given him the whole first half of your lesson, he wouldn’t have been surprised if you did come out with that quip.

“uh… what are you doing?” you blink, as your instructor stares you down from the backseat which he’d clambered to.

“you are like, all over the place today.” he begins and your eyebrows shoot up.

“rude.”

“you are, okay? i’m sorry but— we can cut the crap. you know what you need, and i know what you need so just make this easier and come back here so i can fix that attitude. please?” he exasperates, leaving you blinking at him in shock for a few moments.

five minutes later, you’re sat on his lap with your legs spread as far as they’d go— the instructor knuckles deep in your cunt as he sucks on your tongue, your body craned in an uncomfortable position to kiss him but you barely notice — too filled with ecstasy.

“yeah… yeah, needed that hm?” he hums against you, and smiles when he feels you clench around his fingers in response.

“m’sorry pope.” you whine, attitude officially melted away and tummy aching with guilt that he always had to carve out an extra few hours just to deal with you. maybe there was something wrong with you, some kind of sex addict that only wanted pope heyward. you definitely weren’t even paying him enough for this, but paying him extra for the sex felt wrong. hell, he’s not a prostitute. as if he can feel your concerns piling up, he pulls away from your mouth, using his free hand to cup the back of your head and hold you still to look at him.

“hey. get out of that head.” his fingers that he’d frozen slowly start to move again, and he stares into your eyes, watching them flutter as he pleases you at a snails pace. “i know. just stop thinking about all that shit. trust me. gonna make you cum, then we’ll talk, do some more driving, and then we do whatever you want, okay? on me.” he talks slowly, calmly, patiently — being all the things that drew you to him in the first place.

you nod, mouth agape and eyes struggling to stay open as he strokes your clit with his thumb, massaging your insides with his finger tips.

“good girl. just focus on me. nothing else.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ꪆৎ ˚

#anon #drivinginstructor!pope #pope heyward prompt

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drvirgus · 3 days

Note

heyyyy may i request a dom minji x loser nerdy gp reader? tganks!

hopefully you like it :)

My fav Nerd

Minji X nerdy! G!P Reader

Warnings: SMUT; g!p Reader

wc: 2k

One Shot:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sighing, I closed my eyes, only to immediately feel an elbow jabbing into my side. My eyes widened in shock as I glanced at the person next to me.

It was Kim Minji, one of the most famous people at our college, and we were working on this project together. Since we were both coincidentally absent that day due to illness (though Minji was probably just skipping), the professor had assigned us as a team. Minji looked at me. "I know it's deadly boring, but you can't doze off here," she said, continuing to doodle in her notebook.

"Sorry. I was up all night," I said with a slight laugh, causing Minji to put her pen down. She looked at me, resting her cheek on her hand, and hummed. "You? What were you up to all night?" she asked, a slight grin forming on her face, a certain undertone in her voice.

"Me? Oh, uh... Since the new season of My Hero Academia is coming out, I decided to rewatch everything from the beginning," I replied with a smile. "I always do that when a new season comes out. It's almost like a ritual," I added, feeling more animated as my smile widened.

Minji hummed as she nodded. "A series?" she asked, beginning to scoff. "What else?" she said, her voice quieter now as she rolled her eyes. My smile faded, and my eyes narrowed immediately, causing Minji to stop grinning. "Anime!" I said more seriously. "It's not just a series. It's called anime," I said, shaking my head.

Minji's mouth opened slightly as she looked at me for a while. "You... are you a nerd?" she asked, sounding somewhat surprised, making me roll my eyes immediately. "Why nerd? I just like anime... how does that make me a nerd, exactly?" I asked, frowning, my eyes fixed on Minji.

The black-haired woman beside me chuckled and sat up straight, nodding her head. "You're right," the taller woman said, nodding her head. She hummed as her eyes roamed over my face. "Hey... is it true?" she asked suddenly, which confused me. "Is what true?" I asked, but the black-haired woman simply bit her lip.

"I'm done with this project," Minji suddenly said, and I just nodded in resignation. Understandable. We had been working in her room for several hours already. I stood up from the floor and grabbed my backpack to pack my things.

"Y/n?"

"Hm?"

"Do you like me?"

My eyes widened as I turned my head to the woman who was still sitting on the floor. My breath caught as I just looked down at her. "Want to fuck?"

My eyes widened even more as those words left her mouth. My face flushed instantly, and I could feel my pants getting tighter. I immediately dropped my backpack to the ground and held both hands over my crotch. "W-What? No!" I replied, but my mind screamed at me how stupid I was.

Minji hummed again as she noticed my hand in front of my crotch. She slowly stood up from the floor, tilting her head as she looked down at me. "Really?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"No-Yes-No," I said, confused, my face reddening even more. My heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest as I felt my bulge in my pants growing and even touching my hands that I held in front of me.

Minji laughed a bit. "What's wrong? Are you a virgin?" she asked incredulously, tilting her head. My eyes widened. "What's so wrong about that?!" I asked, now a bit angry, completely forgetting about my bulge as I threw my hands up in the air in disbelief. "What's so bad about it?"

Minji laughed as she wrapped her hands around my neck. My body tensed almost immediately. "Do you want to fuck?" she asked, her voice now softer, more seductive and rough. My mouth opened again, but all I could do was nod. I couldn't lie...

I wanted her.

Minji grinned as she also started nodding. Her body almost pushed me onto her bed. The edge of the bed caused me to sit down on it. "Let's see," the black-haired woman whispered seductively as she slowly dropped to her knees. Her hands at my waistband, she opened the button with just one hand and unzipped it.

My hips lifted from the bed to help her take off my pants, but I didn't know she was also taking off my boxers at the same time. My member immediately sprung up, causing me to pause. My heated member now exposed to the cold air of Minji's room.

"Fuck. Bigger than expected," Minji murmured as she briefly looked up at me before her large hand wrapped around my Cock and began to stroke it gently. My mouth opened, my hands clenching the bedsheets. "Min-Minji," I stuttered as my whole body began to twitch, especially because it was unfamiliar to feel a hand other than mine on my Cock.

Minji chuckled softly as she used her index finger to gather the pre-cum on her finger. I could see her pulling my skin over my pink head repeatedly, leaving it naked shortly after. "So beautiful," she murmured softly as she continued to move her hand agonizingly slowly.

"Minji," I gasped as I looked down at the beautiful woman. She grinned, tilting her head to the side. "Yes? What's wrong?" she asked, laughing softly. She knew exactly what was wrong.

My eyes closed as I bit my lip. "M-More," I said, swallowing my nervousness. "I need more than this," I added, which made Minji hum. "Say please," she demanded, so I opened my eyes and looked at the woman on her knees. A knowing grin on her lips. "Please," I said more quietly, which seemed to satisfy her.

A moan escaped me as I felt her lips on my tip. Shortly after, I felt the warmth enveloping my head. My mouth opened as I leaned back a bit more, my eyes glued to the beautiful woman who was now starting to suck my cock. Her tongue danced over my tip, making me twitch once more.

Her eyes met mine. My face seemed to make her grin. A louder moan escaped my throat as I watched the black-haired woman push her hair out of her face while she moved her head up and down. My mouth opened as I lifted my hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"Fuck. Your mouth is so hot," I moaned softly. My hips moved to meet her mouth repeatedly. My teeth clenched as I gathered her hair into a ponytail, as she moved her head faster. Her suction grew stronger. "Fuck," I panted as my head tilted back. Her hand now on my balls, massaging them in rhythm with her head movements.

"I- Fuck. I'm coming," I nearly choked out, trying to hold back my orgasm as best I could. She hungrily increased her suction, which immediately pushed me over the edge. I could feel my cock twitching in her mouth with each spurt of cum.

Minji sucked one last time before releasing my cock with a "pop." Her hand still on my shaft as she licked her lips, looking at me. A grin on her face as she started stroking me back to full hardness. "That was quick," Minji said, laughing lightly as she looked at me with a grin.

Slowly but surely, she stood up from her kneeling position and looked down at me. My mouth opened as I stared at the taller woman. My eyes widened as she began to undress. My breath caught as I quickly stood up from her bed, immediately wrapping my hands around her waist and pulling her closer.

Minji giggled, though it sounded more like she was mocking me. She wrapped her hands around my neck, looking deeply into my eyes. "Did you finally find your voice?" she asked, but my jaw just tightened, my eyes narrowing.

I really didn't like being mocked.

"Shut up," I muttered, turning us so that Minji was the one pressed against the bed. My hands on her thighs as I urged her to move to the middle of the bed, which she did immediately. Minji laughed as she noticed my slightly trembling hands trying to pull her pants off. Minji bit her lip as she removed her own pants, tossing them carelessly into her room.

My eyes roamed over her entire naked body. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, my cock twitching madly at the sight alone. The thought of indulging in her, exploring every inch of her body, made me shudder.

My mouth opened as I, without another thought, placed my head between her legs and let my tongue glide between her lips. My body lay on her bed, my head between her legs, my hands gripping her thighs, spreading them repeatedly.

I heard the taller woman laughing as she buried her hand in my hair, pushing my face harder against her. My tongue explored every inch of the unfamiliar territory. When my tongue brushed against her clit, I felt Minji briefly squeeze her thighs together. My eyes narrowed as I focused on that little bundle.

Minji clutched my hair, tugging slightly, but nothing could stop me from sucking on that swollen bundle. My lips enclosed it, and I started sucking on her clit. My tongue circled the already swollen nerve, the tip of my tongue playing with it.

The beautiful woman's moans drove me wild. The taste on my tongue was divine. I could eat her out all day....

The loud sound of my sucking echoed through the room. "Fuck. Stop just- fucking- focusing on my clit," Minji moaned, tugging harder on my hair while pressing her hips further into my face. A grin spread across my face as I ignored her plea, continuing to concentrate on the sensitive spot.

Her moans grew louder, and my body began moving against the bed, desperately humping it. My cock rubbed repeatedly against the bedsheets. My fingernails dug into the popular woman's skin as my thoughts became more and more disjointed.

I could feel my orgasm approaching again. My eyes closed as I sucked harder, moving my tongue in circular motions on her clit. Slurping sounds echoed in the room. My fingers now at her entrance, I slid two of them inside her, curling them immediately to create more friction.

"Minji. Minji. Minji. Minji," I moaned between licks as I felt myself cum right there on her bed. My face flushed as I glanced up at the beautiful woman briefly before moving my hand more fervently and returning my tongue to her clit.

God, I was so pussydrunk...

"Fuck. Stop... I... I came," Minji said breathlessly, trying to push my head away from her.

I lifted my head, my hand still gripping her thigh. "What?" I asked, my eyes half-open. My entire mouth glistened with her juices. My mouth opened. "Just a little more," I said suddenly, diving back between her legs. My fingers still inside her, never once having pulled them out.

My senses were completely hazy...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a smile on my face, I stood at the front door of the beautiful woman's house, putting on my shoes. Minji leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, simply watching me. "So, uh... I'll work on the project some more tonight, and then we should be done," I said as I tied my shoelaces and stood up straight.

My eyes met Minji's as I laughed awkwardly. She hummed in interest, watching me for a long moment. "Does that mean... we won't see each other again?" she asked, uncrossing her arms and stepping closer. Her expression turned serious.

"Uh. I don't know," I replied quietly, adjusting my backpack. "Why?" Minji asked immediately, surprising me. I raised my eyebrows in shock. "Well, uh... because according to you and everyone else, I'm a nerd?" I said uncertainly, laughing awkwardly.

Minji sighed. "So what? You're my favorite nerd," she said more seriously, placing her hand on my hip again. "I don't want this to be the last time we see each other," she said slowly, her voice soft and almost a whisper.

My breath caught as I looked up at her. A small smile spread across my face. "Call me... you have my number," I replied simply, grinning and giving the taller woman a kiss. "But don't think I'll answer," I added jokingly, leaving her apartment with a small laugh.

#newjeans minji #newjeans #minji x reader #newjeans x reader #kpop smut #newjeans smut #minji smut #kim minji

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1d1195 · 12 hours

Text

Traditional - Extra VII

Read Traditional here | ~4.1k words

Warnings: smut. 18+ only. oral (m), sex, maybe public if you believe enough. Otherwise, it's kinda fluffy

From me: idk I think Harry can be a little TOO self-loathing. And he is really so sweet and nice overall. I think he deserves some TRADITIONAL sugar-daddy CEO treatment.

Summary: Harry is a lot calmer now that the client fiasco is over. But he's still on edge. Fortunately, she has an idea to take the edge off.

Harry was much more pleased with the direction of his company now that the biggest crisis of his career was finally in the rearview mirror. Now that her arm was healed and his clients were stable, everything was much better.

Except Harry didn’t fully accept it.

It was like there was a little worm in his brain that ate at him and whispered directly into the auditorial processing space that something, at any moment, would go wrong. The other shoe would drop and he would be back at square one.

“Baby?” She interrupted his thoughts of worthlessness and impostor syndrome. God he needed to see someone. But when was there time? “I asked about dinner, it’s Monday,” she reminded him gently. His mind reeling but he wanted to focus on her.

He wasn’t angry. For the first time in months. It felt like that for everyone around him. It created an entirely different vibe in the office. People weren’t scared during meetings. He didn’t slam his phone down when something was late.

But she noticed how withdrawn he was because she knew him.

“Are you alright?” Her voice wasn’t accusatory. It was still quiet. Like she was a little afraid she would set him off. But he hadn’t bought new electronics in months. The accounting department joked they would get to decrease the furniture budget this quarter as it closed. Harry couldn’t do anything but laugh because it was true. It was the first time he felt at ease since the mess happened.

It was awful.

“M’fine,” he smiled gently at her. It was their daily meeting. The one Harry didn’t even know they had until he saw it written on her calendar back when her cramps made her sleep through it. But he knew she didn’t believe his hand-waving denial. He wasn’t fine, she knew it.

“Okay,” she sipped her drink and eyed him suspiciously.

He was looking at the papers on his desk and every little negative number made his heart skip a beat.

This wasn’t healthy.

“Are you sure?” She asked again.

That wasn’t helping him either. How perceptive she was and knowing exactly what he was feeling. It was almost annoying that she could do it. All he wanted to do was hide his feelings from her the way he was supposed to, and she made it so difficult.

God, she was perfect.

He nodded silently, not looking up at her because if he did, she would read him like an open book. She would praise him and tell him he was perfect. He didn’t want that. It was stupid, but he needed to believe it himself. It was partially his own fault. Styles Inc. suffered very few hiccups other than getting up and running. Back when he had just graduated, and he had stuffed every penny he had into the two offices he and Niall needed to get started. It grew before his eyes. He believed he was important and doing important things. He knew he was talented and doing well.

Almost having to fire her was the worst wakeup call.

“Harry,” her voice broke his thoughts again.

“Yeah, kitten?” He hummed trying to admire the green numbers on the spreadsheet before him. They were large and lovely. The red ones amounted to next to nothing in comparison. But it didn’t matter. They were terrifying.

“Baby, I just asked you if you think I should go out for drinks with a client that keeps hitting on me so that we can get a bigger contract from him, and you said that was a good idea.”

His head snapped up. Jealousy pierced his heart and ran hot through his blood in seconds. “What client hits on you?” He scowled. They were dropping said client. Effective immediately. Not even feeling like an impostor would deter him from that kind of behavior. It wouldn’t matter if they were his biggest client either. If they were hitting on her—

“You really think a client would be stupid enough to hit on me knowing you’re my boyfriend?” She asked a slight smirk on her lips.

He ran a hand over his face. Of course they wouldn’t. Harry had a scary side, and everyone knew it. If they even tried to flirt with her Harry would probably break their neck. The little jealous monster inside of his head was more powerful than the worm that told him he wasn’t talented, and he could lose it all at a moment’s notice.

And he hated that word lately. He needed to add another reminder on his phone to remedy that immediately as well. Boyfriend. It was so childish sounding. He was a successful businessman, and he had a gorgeous girlfriend who made him feel like... well... like he deserved to own such a successful company. Fiancé. Husband. That had a nicer ring to it. He needed to fix that soon.

“Harry,” she giggled.

“What?”

“You’re staring at me,” she was blushing. Looked away as she sat in the chair across from him on the other side of the desk.

He sighed and smiled tiredly. “Course,” he really looked at her again, not just spaced out like he had been doing. The way her hair fell, the way her lip gloss coated her straw. The way her nail polish chipped—he would send her for a manicure (with Eleanor so she’d actually go) even though she preferred when Harry painted them—hence the chipping.

Harry was so captivated by her. It did seem like a crime that he hadn’t given her his full attention during their coffee break. Part of him thought she should model for offices or office furniture. It was sexist and lizard-brained of him. But she was so pretty it was the only thing he could think of in that moment. Then he considered the notion of her being a professor or a doctor—even though he knew she wasn’t qualified for it. But it didn’t matter. He suspected she could do it without training. She was too lovely. The fact that she was intelligent and beautiful and nice was unfair. He didn’t deserve something so good when he could lose the biggest reason she was in his life. “You’re so pretty, kitten.”

Her cheeks turned red again. Harry thought he would explode. “Don’t change the subject.”

“M’not,” he pouted. She did the cute little nose wrinkle that made Harry’s heart skip a beat the same way the negative numbers on spreadsheets did but this time he didn’t mind.

“Your brain has been elsewhere during this whole meeting—”

“Can y’please stop calling it a meeting, kitten?” he grumbled. It felt so wrong to call it a meeting when he was in love with her. Like he needed a corporate excuse to have her sit in his office.

“Pretenses, baby. Don’t want anyone to know I’m your second favorite.”

He grunted, running a hand over his face as the irritation sank in again because of her words. “Niall is not m’favorite.”

She smiled impishly. Her cheeks looked like little apples that Harry wanted to kiss and take bites out of. Her eyes danced with mischievousness that he thought she could only have learned from Louis.

He loved her so much.

Which was why he was so mad that he was worried. If this company suffered the thought of letting her down, of telling her that he wasn’t successful anymore. He met her only because he did well and was successful. How would she love him if that wasn’t true anymore?

“Harry, I’m going to drag you to the hospital if you don’t tell me.”

“Can we talk ‘bout it at home?”

She frowned. “Oh, it’s not work related?” She asked.

He shook his head, confused as to how she would conclude such a thing. “What do y’mean?”

“Well... if it was work-related, you would tell me now. You only tell me relationship-related things at home. Which means now I have to go back to my office and conference call Louis and Eleanor and pull Niall from his work so we can discuss where I’m going to live because you can’t take the sound of me singing in the shower anymore. What’s worse is Louis will agree and he won’t want me to live with him and Eleanor either. Then I’ll have to find my own place and it won’t have room for a porch swing and—”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kitten, shut up,” he sighed. She smiled sweetly, unperturbed by the way he said it because he sounded exhausted with her, which was almost definitely her goal. He knew she liked to annoy him—even when he was already suffering internally.

“I don’t want to say it’s your fault, baby. But if you would just tell me what—”

“I don’t feel successful.”

She tilted her head at him curiously. “You don’t?”

He shook his head feeling the nerves in every inch of his skeleton. Right down to the bone. Past the bone. Probably to the atoms or even further to each proton and neutron. Telling her made it real. Telling her anything meant he had to deal with what he was feeling because she wouldn’t let him brush it away.

She was about as bad as the worm in his head.

“Okay,” she nodded. Then there was silence.

They stared at each other for a significant moment. Harry thought it could have been ten minutes, but it might have only been ten seconds. “You’re not going t’say anything?” He asked.

She shrugged. “I could,” she smiled gently. Almost pitifully. It made Harry feel the slightest bit worse. But then she made it better. Of course she did. She made everything seem so... simple. In the best way. A point of view he hadn’t considered. “I could ask you why. Or tell you how it’s not true—all of which I do believe. But I actually think it’s kind of more serious than that. I think you went through a really difficult thing. It piled and piled and you dealt with it. More than anyone here. Because you care and love this place with everything in you,” she listed. “I think you’ll need to talk to someone more qualified than me to fully deal with it. But I will list every reason why you’re completely, totally, and simply wrong another time. When you’re not so sad looking and it won’t fall on deaf ears,” she assured him with a pointed expression that he had fallen in love with so many times over it was uncanny.

Had he mentioned he loved her so much?

“Oh,” he murmured.

She stood up, moved around his desk and leaned against the edge in front of him. Her eyes didn’t move from his and she brought a hand to his face, traced the curve of his jaw, the soft pink lips she loved so much. “Why are you worried you’re not successful?” She asked.

She really knew where to hit him where it hurt. “Y’won’t love me...if m’not successful.”

“Harry,” she cooed. “Baby—”

“I know,” he turned into her hand and kissed the center of her palm. “But I... I only met y’because m’successful. If m’not... then...”

“You know I don’t love you because you have money, right? We’ve been over this.”

“I know,” he nodded. “Really, I do. But s’like...there’s something in m’brain, kitten. I can’t turn it off and m’exhausted. After all that... I mean... y’saw. It was reallybad. Like really bad. M’still kind of worried and—what are you doing?”

“Turning your brain off,” she smiled, full of mischief once more as she slunk down to her knees. She wiggled into the space of his desk where he normally pushed his chair in. “Surely you’ve thought about this?” She asked, her hand sliding up his thigh.

Harry was suddenly illiterate. And mute. What was she talking about? Were they talking about something? The only thing he could hear was his uneven breath and the clinking sound of his belt and zipper. “Oh,” he groaned as her lips mouthed at the outline of his dick against his briefs.

“Cause I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

“You have?” He murmured dumbly.

She nodded, looking up at him from between his legs, crammed under his desk. It was a fantasy he hadn’t even imagined before thirty seconds prior and there she was: making it come true. Her lashes seemed so long, and her hand was massaging him through his underwear. His heart was pounding. All thoughts of negative numbers were gone.

She deserved a raise.

Her fingers hooked around his underwear, and she tugged on them, pulling him free. He didn’t even realize he was straining against the fabric. Within seconds her lips enveloped around him, and she sucked quickly. Hard. Everything was warm and wet instantly.

Harry had done this before with the companions he had found on the very website he found her, but he wished he never had because this was her. She was so perfect. She was everything he wanted. She was beneath his desk making him feel important and it was so ridiculous for him to feel that way but it worked. It was working.

Her mouth was meant to be around him. At least that was the way it felt. It never felt like this. She didn’t even care about herself. Which was fine because Harry would return whatever she gave him now plus interest. For the first time in a year, he felt utterly relaxed. Her head bobbing up and down the length of him. He put a hand on the back of her head, and she moaned softly sending a vibration through him and up to his chest. His cheeks felt hot. Not that he was embarrassed. But it was so much rapid blood flow. Everywhere. He was going to lose his mind.

There was a knock on the door.

She froze but didn’t remove her mouth from him. Harry grumbled a curse under his breath, carefully tucked himself further the edge of his desk without bumping her too much or crushing her. “Yeah?” He called tentatively.

Her lips focused on the tip of him making him struggle to maintain his composure.

“She’s not here?” Niall frowned from the doorway.

Harry shook his head staring at the screen trying not to let his best friend know that his girlfriend and Niall’s very favorite coworker was crammed beneath his desk and sucking him for all he was worth. Even though Niall was right there. “Ran an errand,” her tongue slid down the underside of him silently. He cleared his throat, shifted. Hoping she wouldn’t torture him in front of his best friend. When did she get so brave?

Oh. Traditional. That’s what that meant. Harry thought to himself.

“When she gets back can you ask her where the file from yesterday’s meeting is? I don’t want to mess with her organizational system,” she dug her nails into his thigh not very hard but so her presence was known. As if the thought of Niall messing with her system really was the worst thing he could do in that moment.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t,” Harry chuckled. But the movement made him shift in her mouth which nearly sent him cross-eyed. He cleared his throat again.

“You okay? She’s been worried about you.”

“M’fine,” he rolled his eyes.

She silently sucked harder as if to prove a point. Moved him further down her throat. Harry took a deep breath to maintain any semblance of control he had left over the situation. Which was very little.

“I like that she worries about you.”

“It’s unnecessary,” Harry muttered. To both of them.

“When are you going to marry her?” Niall asked.

That paused her. She released him, peered up through those sinful lashes and smiled more mischievously than he had ever seen. Harry shifted. Silently and blindly lining himself up with her mouth again to keep her from saying I knew it or just generally giving herself away in front of Niall. She obligingly took his length down her throat again and it was a miracle she didn’t make a sound with the amount of spit lodged in her mouth. “Soon,” he assured Niall.

“She left her cell in the office,” he said. “Hopefully she’s with the driver or something.”

“Yeah, I called for him,” he wanted Niall out. “What time are we teeing off tomorrow?” He asked the last bout of normalcy he had left in him. Her lips were dragging so slowly over him it felt nearly painful. The moment Niall left he was going to come.

“Nine fifteen.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be by later for the new account model for—” He coughed as her fingers danced along the inside of his thighs, reaching for the space of his cock that didn’t fit in her mouth as well as underneath— “Excuse me,” he covered his mouth over the fake cough before dropping his hand to his lap—her head—and pushed ever so slightly toward the back of her throat. Fortunately, his phone rang. Niall nodded waving him off; allowing him to tend to his phone call—that he was not going to answer.

“I got it,” he assured him and closed the door.

Harry yanked from her mouth, shoved from the desk, barely pulling his pants up at all. He hurried across his office to twist the lock on his door. Once turned around, she was already there, knelt before him again and sucking him into her warm mouth again. Sucking hard. It was probably loud. Wet. Anyone that happened to be by his door at that moment would know what was happening on the other side. Maybe they would make a rumor. Maybe they would assume it was her—neither of which Harry wanted. “Not here, kitten,” he groaned quietly and lifted her begrudgingly from her knees. He pulled her toward the bathroom. He briefly thought of the first time he was in there with her, knelt himself, to take her shoe off and Louis and Eleanor assumed he was prepared to do something he loved doing to her and strongly considered doing it again. Just as he lifted her bum onto the counter she stopped him.

“Nope,” she slid down again. Knelt once more. “Said it was turning your brain off,” she reminded him. Her lips around his dick once again. Now, with an office separating them from the rest of the company, she openly slurped. Made obscene noises that would satisfy him just fine on business trips where he didn’t get to take her with him and leave him with nothing but fantasies before falling asleep in a lonely hotel room. He slammed the bathroom door shut just for further privacy.

He groaned lowly, meeting the bob of her head as gently as he could so as not to cause her to struggle but enjoying the warmth of her mouth and throat. Her lips looked so sexy around him he wasn’t going to last much longer at all. “Love,” he tilted his head back. “Y’need to—”

“Shh,” she pulled back, pressing the most chaste of kisses along his length which was an oxymoron. “Just worry about you,” she hummed. “Please?”

Harry groaned his hands gathering her hair at the back of her head as she slipped her mouth down as much of him as she could take and it felt so good it made him

“Aw fuck, kitten, s’good,” he groaned and held her in place as he released in her mouth. His breath was ragged, his hips stuttering slightly. She continued sucking even though it was sensitive. Even though it was more than he deserved.

“Do you really think I would stop loving you because you didn’t have money?” She asked, fluttering her lashes. Voice the slightest bit hoarser.

He lifted her from her knees, putting her on the counter again and shoved her dress up to her hips. Thank God she wore a dress. “This underwear is ripped,” he grumbled.

She frowned. “It is? It’s my favorite I didn’t notice a rip when I put them on this mor—”

But she didn’t realize he was predicting the future. He pulled on the nylon cotton blend with so much force her already hoarse voice died in her throat. He groaned, tossing them on the floor. He lined himself up with her entrance and brought her bum to the edge so the sharp corner dug into her flesh. It would leave a bruise and the only thought that was left in her head was that Harry would kiss it and make it better later.

His length slid inside her so effortlessly. She should have been embarrassed how turned on she was sucking him off—especially when Niall got to the office but she couldn’t help it. Now the length that had felt so good in her throat was making her core ache. He thrusted into her quickly. Hardly letting her breathe or realize what was happening, but it felt so good. She was moaning into the curve of shoulder. Clinging to him. “Baby, I—”

“S’good kitten. S’good. I love you so fucking much,” his hips were relentless. All thought escaping her mind. A fire could have broken out in the shower and she wouldn’t have moved—couldn’t have moved.

“Oh wow,” she sighed as Harry pulled her closer to him—her legs wound around his waist. Her butt barely on the counter. Her eyes fluttered with each thrust. “Oh, oh my God,” she moaned. “You’re—”

“Gonna come on m’cock, kitten,” it was a question. Or a command. She didn’t know. It was both. Neither. Part of her wondered if he even said anything.

But she did. She did come on his cock. Hard. She fluttered around him for what felt like minutes. Hours. Centuries. Color ceased to have meaning. There was no sound. That was heaven. She was sure. A blasphemous thought that she didn’t even have the strength to laugh about because she was deliriously good.

Her voice was hoarser than only moments before. Her face tucked into his shoulder and her breath shaky as he pushed her further back toward the mirror at the end of the counter behind the sink. Further from him. Her cheeks were flushed, and she could only imagine what he had done to her hair. But his pupils were massive. His lips pinker than ever. His chest heaved.

Clearing her throat, she gently tucked him back into his pants. Then tucked in his shirt too. With the same delicateness as she did with his cock. It was intoxicating. Made him want to go another thousand rounds with her. “So, in conclusion,” she whispered. “I will love you whether you have a kajillion dollars or one dollar,” she looked up at him, cheeks burning.

“That was very sexy, kitten,” his eyelids practically fluttered.

“I...” she cleared her throat. “I surprised myself, actually.”

“We should do this more often,” he pulled her skirt down and brought her closer to the edge of the counter again. She hissed at the contact against the bruise that was definitely forming. He frowned. “Oh, love m’sorry,” he cupped her face and gazed at her. “Was I too rough? I shouldn’t have—”

“Harry, if I didn’t fear for the stability of my leg muscles I would probably bend over your desk for you.” He swore under his breath. “You did bruise my butt though.”

“No good deed,” he mumbled and lifted her gently from the counter. His hand cupping her backside and gently rubbing each cheek as if it were normal. But it felt normal.

She nuzzled into his chest and sighed contentedly. “Niall’s going to see right through me,” she murmured.

“I’ll fire him again if he makes y’uncomfortable.”

She snorted and laughed, tilting her head up to look at him. “You are my favorite person Harry Styles. I love you so much. Even if you ruined my favorite pair of underwear.”

He smiled as mischievously as she had earlier in the day. “I’ll buy you more...a hundred pairs of them. Then I’ll ruin them all again,” he promised, then pressed his mouth firmly against hers. A gentle, soft kiss in comparison to all they did in the span of half an hour. “I love you too.”

She grinned. “Say it again.”

He shook his head at her, kissed her forehead, effectively turning her to mush, which was probably his plan so she couldn’t deny his next request. “Stop calling our coffee break a meeting.”

But her senses were returning. The ones that weren’t primal and horny about how massive Harry’s dick was in her mouth. She was going to say something funny; he could see it in the glint in her eye. “Well, I can’t put ‘sex’ on your calendar now can I?”

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scoobydoodean · 1 day

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ok so forewarning, i don’t really have a question here, just lots of thoughts.

there’s so many layers to the general *badness* about the mia vallens therapy scene. like to the manipulation (for lack of a better word) that sam rewrites. like it makes such a difference that she thinks jack is their little brother instead of the son of the thing that killed dean’s best friend/loml. not to mention the fact that it’s been what like a week since *everything*

and like yes dean’s being cold towards jack and giving him orders (which, i could argue they weren’t uncalled-for), but tbh he’s only being moderately colder/more direct with him than he’s been with cas at times on hunts (thinking hunteri heroici) and even similar to how *sam* has been with like claire and even dean himself (thinking that episode dean turned into a teenager and all of MOC). like genuinely, how was sam expecting him to act like?

also (half joking) i genuinely think dean would’ve warmed up to jack even quicker than he did (we can already see it in this same episode, like that look he gives jack when he asks mia if buddy hurt her too) if he heard jack say he hates anakin skywalker lol

ok wait i do have a question. do you think jack actually was “terrified” of dean during that therapy scene?

(post linking to some context)

Okay so I rewatched 13.01-13.04 on a plane this past week so it's all extra fresh on my mind rn. The thing about 13.04 is that Dean wasn't comfortable bringing Jack on the hunt, and Jack didn't want to go, but Sam pushed insistently for all of them to go on the hunt together... primarily because Dean's feelings were thwarting Sam's plans for Jack and his own emotional coping mechanisms in a larger sense.

I think Dean's feelings compared to Sam's here are relatively more simple (and yet somehow still intensely misunderstood to a baffling degree). Dean was grieving. He was grieving Cas who died right in front of him, he was grieving Crowley (he pleads with Chuck to bring "even Crowley" back in 13.01!) and he was grieving Mary.

The thing with Dean's grief over Cas is this: instead of viewing it from Dean's perspective, we tend to analyze it as omniscient viewers who know Cas will come back, refusing see how miraculous Cas’s return truly was. We refuse to see Cas's death was different this time and appeared very permanent. There was no uncertainty like there was in season 7 or 8. His wings burned into the ground and his grace extinguished. Dean pleaded and prayed for Cas and Mary and Crowley's return to the only person who ever brought Cas back from certain death (via explosion in 5.01 and 5.22)—the person who told Dean in 11.23 he was leaving and Dean was on his own. Dean didn't hear back. The ONLY reason Cas comes back in 13.05 is that 1) Jack woke him him up unwittingly using powers no one knew he possessed and 2) Cas then annoyed a creature they didn't even know existed into letting him out of a place they 3) didn't even know existed and 4) Cas somehow came back with a body even though he had been burned to ash. All of this is completely miraculous. It was unforeseeable. It doesn’t even make complete sense as a viewer. In other words, Dean has ZERO reason to hope for Cas's return. There was ZERO reason to refuse to acknowledge that grief… but that's exactly what Sam does. He suggests Dean pray for Chuck to bring Cas back in 13.01. As soon as Sam knew Dean already tried that and Cas was DEAD dead, he treated Cas as something Dean needed to reframe and get over:

SAM: You thinking mom is gone and Cas is gone, and that Jack can’t be saved. Dean, after everything we’ve gone through… We just lost people we love, people who have been in our lives for a long time. Everything’s upside-down. I get it. But we’ve been down before. I mean, rock bottom. And we find a way. We fix it because that’s what we do.

This is the "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps" speech in 13.02—like a day after they burned Cas's body. Sam's wording here is cruel too—saying Dean is "thinking" Cas is gone as if he didn't die right in front of him? He refuses to acknowledge Cas's death as something Dean was actively and rightfully mourning. This becomes a major point of contention between the brothers at the end of 13.03.

DEAN: Look, I know you think that you can use [Jack] as some sort of an interdimensional can-opener and that’s fine, but don’t act like you care about him! Because you only care about what he can do for you! So if you want to pretend, that’s fine! But me? I can hardly look at the kid! Because when I do all I see is everybody we’ve lost! SAM: Mom chose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack!

Sam will only name Mary—the one person whose death they can’t 100% confirm (the same thing happens in front of Mia in 13.04). The absence of Cas’s name here is pointed. So Dean says:

DEAN: And what about Cas?

And how does Sam respond?

SAM: What about Cas?

Uh... wow. That's what really sets Dean off to full on shouting:

DEAN: [Jack] manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!

Sam's denial of what Dean literally SAW (Cas died) and how that hurts—his insistence that Dean also halt grieving to hope for the impossible—it's a major sticking point and very revealing of Sam's own coping mechanisms. Sam's chief response to grief is to disassociate himself from it. We see a textbook case in season 8 (see: 8.08), but in most of the series, what this actually looks like for Sam is to keep moving and hunting (ex: 1.02, 2.02, 2.10, 2.11, 2.18 3.11, 4.09, 9.01) which is also why he insists on bringing Dean and Jack on the hunt in 13.04. Sam tries not to think about what they've lost and focuses on what he CAN do. He focuses on hoping Mary can be saved because she's the one person he didn't SEE die.

The thing about Dean’s grief over Mary is this: he convinces himself Lucifer had to have killed her. She's the one person whose death Dean can't be certain of, but he absolutely cannot bear the thought of hoping she’s alive and it turning out he’s wrong. He knows he wouldn’t psychologically survive hoping in that and his beliefs being crushed. It would be like losing his mom all over again (a THIRD time). So he sticks to what is most likely: Lucifer killed her. He can't contend with the hope Sam is clinging to desperately, and that's what makes them such poor companions in grief. Sam feels off balance when Dean won't keep moving and hoping like him—when Dean can't keep up the pace Sam wants to run at in his own grief—and in doing so, Sam keeps pushing Dean to contend with hopes that open Dean up to a WORLD of pain Sam can psychologically convince himself not to feel. Grieving together just really just doesn't work for them because they're never on the same page and deal in such different ways—and this has been hurting them from as early as 2.02!!!

Now to bring Jack into this more fully: Jack represents Sam and Dean's different perspectives on grief and on Mary. Just like Dean despairs over Mary's demise, Dean despairs over the possibility of Jack being good. He can't bear the idea of hoping in that and being wrong. The psychologically safest option for him is to assume the worst and not hope or believe in anything turning out okay.

Sam, on the other hand, pretty much immediately sees a way to use Jack to get Mary back. This is clear when he and Jack get locked up together in the jail cell in 13.01. After establishing that Jack isn't hearing things and (probably) isn't going to murder him imminently, Sam immediately starts down a line of questioning establishing how well Jack understands his powers, and then asks him outright:

SAM: Jack, look, um... before you were born, you -- you opened up a door to another world. Do you remember that? JACK: Yes. SAM: Okay, um, could you do that again?

Shortly after, when Sam arrives, he tells Dean (who is convinced after everything that happened in 12.23 that 12.19 that Jack is evil or will turn evil):

We need him.

Sam repeats this sentiment multiple times with clear meaning, and later in 13.04, he admits to Jack that he wants to use him to open the portal. This doesn't mean he doesn't also grow to see himself in Jack quickly and genuinely believe in his capacity for good, but he isn't fully honest with Jack about his motives until 13.04 where he finally comes clean, and this poisons the well with Jack a little.

@shallowseeker has pointed out before that in 13.03, while trying to figure out how to get Jack's powers to work (and spying on Jack through cameras from another room) Sam is seen reading "The Drama Of The Gifted Child". I wish I could find the post because Shal probably brought it up too, but when I was rewatching this episode, I noticed the chapter Sam had just settled into read before being interrupted was titled,

"Depression and Grandiosity: Two Related Forms of Denial"

Given the accusations flying from Sam toward Dean then from Dean toward Sam about denial in the following episode (13.04), this feels amusingly pointed. Dean is depressed (and about to attempt suicide in 13.05), Sam is depressed and has "grandiose" ideas of using Jack to pop open a portal to another reality while hiding behind the guise of being the most rational person in the room when he... isn't necessarily? And it's easy to argue "Well, Sam turns out to be right even if he didn't ultimately have much of a reason to think he was" but the core problem here is how his beliefs effect how he treats other people's grief. He isn't honest with Jack about his motives (while Dean is somewhat brutally honest) and pushes and watches even while claiming he's giving Jack space (13.03), he refuses to give Dean space to grieve even the family member they know is dead, he inserts a therapist into the situation and criticizes Dean's grief when Dean won't play his game, and in 13.05, after Dean says that he can't believe in anything right now, Sam's clumsy attempts at help involve plying Dean with alcohol he says he doesn't even want and trying to send him off to strip clubs—believing that Dean performing being okay will somehow address his mental state because Sam's idea of coping himself is simply "going through the motions".

As for Jack, I don't think he's scared of Dean. I think he's scared of what Dean believes. He's scared that Dean is right. From 13.01-13.06, Jack is contending with the question of whether he's destined for evil or good, and in his depressed state, Dean believes Jack is destined for evil because hoping in anything is completely beyond him at that moment. Sam tells Jack that he can be good, but he hides ulterior motives as to why he's being nice, and when those ulterior motives are revealed, it leaves Jack thinking Sam is the kind of person who will lie to Jack and tell him he's good just to get what he wants. Meanwhile, Jack knows Dean is being completely honest with him about what he believes. 13.03 and 13.04 clearly demonstrate that Jack understands the difference between beliefs and facts: Dean could be right or he could be wrong. What Jack holds onto like an anchor is that he can trust Dean to tell him the truth about what he believes—even if it hurts.

It's also just so obvious that Jack immediately wants Dean—specifically—to like him (see: Jack mimicking Dean's mannerisms while eating in 13.02, and his clumsy attempts to earn his favor in 13.04). Sam also picks up on this, and encourages Jack to seek Dean's approval in 13.04 to try and change Dean's beliefs. Sam (and to some extent Jack) are thinking in 13.04, that if Jack can prove to Dean that he can be good, and if Dean tells him he did a good job (which Dean does in the end), Jack can believe that. Sam sees that Jack wants Dean's approval and the impression that Dean's beliefs have had on Jack and thinks by pushing them together as soon as possible (when neither of them want to go on the hunt) and treating them as a family and forcing Dean to accept Jack when Dean just isn't ready (including by paralleling Jack with himself in a way that becomes an accusation), he can "fix" Jack so he isn't scared of his powers anymore (13.03) and then he can teach Jack to use his powers and Jack can open a portal to save their mom.

Jack's attempts to earn Dean's favor in 13.04 are clumsy. His first attempt is directly ignoring Dean telling him to wait in the car and sneaking into the crime scene, potentially contaminating it. At Mia's office, Jack's outburst about losing a mother is what allows Sam to set up the whole family therapy trap to begin with, and because Dean knows Sam is going to use that to hurt him, he warns Jack not to make outbursts like that. Dean is not being nice. Point blank. And I do think his tone is a little different than with Cas which in the past felt more like exasperation. I also don’t think it makes him the devil. I think that's understandable when putting in even a tiny amount of effort and it's kind of laughable to me how few people seem to even try because they're so caught up in Sam's happy family narrative and the idea that someone wanting Dean's approval presents an obligation that Dean give it no matter how emotionally impossible—and in a situation where asking him to lie would actually destroy that much more of Jack's trust.

#13.01 #13.02 #13.03 #13.04 #13.05 #dean and mary #mary #dean and jack #jack #and cas is my best friend #the flannel business #bad therapist sam #season 13 #mail #i just stopped

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cuubism · 1 day

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Hurt/Comfort -- there are so many dumb human hurts, that always surprise.

First time Retired!Morpheus has a silly human ouch -- burned tongue from drinking too hot tea, stubbed toe on his favorite chair, misjudged a distance and bumping, hard enough to bruise, into a pointy household surface, sweats from spicy food.

Hob's sympathetic giggles.

I made it a BIT more sad 😔 ok maybe a lot more sad

Hob had expected, given he was used to being a king and all, for Dream to be more prissy about the small indignities of human life. How dare the rain wet my hair, Hob, he'd expected. This railing gave me a splinter, you must kiss it better.

In reality, Dream has borne it all with a stoic, grave acceptance. Like one receiving a doctor's solemn pronouncement: yes, you will live, but. Each tiny injury, each failure, each confusion and moment of tripping and falling, he simply straightens his regal shoulders, thins his lips to a hard line. Simply accepts it grimly. Sometimes, Hob will catch him staring off into the distance for a moment, the way he used to do when he was searching for information among the minds of his dreamers, to know if what he is feeling is serious. Then he'll blink hard, and look down as he realizes it's no longer accessible to him.

Hob doesn't know what to do to help him in those moments. He can't fix it for him. He just rubs the back of his neck and kisses his temple, and that seems to soothe him somewhat.

Mostly, Hob just tries to reassure him that whatever he's feeling is normal. Ordinary human indignities, small aches and pains. Nothing to worry about, love.

So Dream's reaction to these things is unexpected--Hob had really expected more complaining--but ultimately doesn't trouble him too much.

Until he comes home one day to find Dream slumped under the covers in their bed, face mushed in the pillow, staring blankly at the wall.

It's not unusual to find Dream asleep. He seems to need a lot of it, ironically. But he's not sleeping, now, just kind of... still.

Hob crouches by the bed in his line of sight. "Hey, love. Everything alright?"

"I do not feel well," Dream says, with his characteristic seriousness around these matters. He sounds hoarse. His eyes look bleary, like he's been sniffling and rubbing at them. Hob lays the back of his hand on his forehead. He feels a bit warm, nothing too terrible.

"Just a cold, I expect," he says, and tries to offer a comforting smile, even as he hurts to see Dream looking so despondent. "Feels gross, but I think you'll live."

"I know," Dream says solemnly. Resignedly. As if he cannot imagine a worse fate in this moment but will stoically bear it as he has all things.

"Sit up for me for a sec." Dream groans as Hob lifts him up to lean against the headboard. "I know, but it'll help your sinuses clear. And I'll make you some tea, for your throat."

When Hob comes back with the tea, Dream is sitting exactly as he left him, head tipped back against the headboard and looking utterly miserable.

Hob passes him his tea and, while Dream sips it, goes to pet his hair, but Dream subtly shifts his head away. Must be feeling too tender even to want to be touched, then. Poor thing.

When Dream's finished his tea, Hob fetches some vaporub from the bathroom and perches by Dream on the edge of the bed. "Think you can cope with being touched just for a minute or two?"

A look of regret flashes briefly across Dream's face. "Hob..."

"Shh, it's alright. I just want to put some of this on your chest, that's all."

Dream undoes the tie on his silk robe and lets it fall open over his chest. "What is it?"

"Like a salve to help your congestion." He rubs some in over Dream's sternum, careful not to press too hard when he's feeling fragile while still rubbing it in well enough that it won't feel sticky on his skin, then massages some into his neck, fingers light on his vulnerable throat.

Dream wrinkles his nose. "The scent is strong."

Hob laughs. "I know, that's the point."

"It is not wholly unpleasant, though," Dream concedes. He looks down at Hob from under his lashes, and for a moment he does look regal again, and Hob his humble servant. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, my dear heart. If you want a cuddle you can let me know, but it seemed rather like you didn't want to be touched."

"My skin feels like glass," Dream says, chagrined.

"I Know. Promise it'll all clear up in a few days and won't hurt so much anymore."

"Won't hurt anymore," Dream echoes, brow pinched. "Is not this human fate constant maladies and pain?"

It could be one of Dream's rare dry jokes but something about the way he says it makes Hob's brain ping in alarm. "Well," he says, trying to laugh it off, "sure, it's a parade of minor torments, but no, it's not all pain, it'll pass."

Dream looks down at his hands. "I see."

A terrible suspicion starts gnawing in Hob's chest. "Dream, how much pain are you in? Not right now with the cold, I mean usually."

Dream tilts his head in thought. "Upon what metric is the scale?"

That's not, 'none, Hob, why are you asking?'

"Um," Hob says, in growing concern, "between none and the worst physical pain you've ever felt, I guess?"

Strangely, this makes Dream relax. "I have experienced far worse," he says. "Human life pales in comparison to the agony of fighting the Morningstar, to name but one example." When Hob keeps staring at him, horrified, because "it's not as bad as when I was nearly killed in Hell" is no comfort at all, Dream concludes, "This is normal, then." He seems satisfied by that, if not happy. Resigned, in a way, to what he feels he must cope with, now that he understands what it is. Dream is altogether too good at coping. "I had thought as much but had not the frame of reference to confirm."

"No!"

Dream flinches at the sudden outburst, and Hob regrets raising his voice. He lays his hands on Dream's blanket-adorned thighs, softens his tone. "No, Dream, it's not normal to be in pain all the time."

"...Oh." Dream's face falls, confusion overtaking the calm acceptance that had preceded it. Hob bites back a 'why didn't you tell me!' because the answer is obvious. He thought it was normal.

"Where are you in pain?" he asks instead, steadying his voice. "Normally, I mean?"

Maybe he just means that he's been getting a bit stiff like any other person in their thirties--fabricated though those 'thirties' might be. Maybe Hob just needs to get him into yoga.

"My joints," Dream says, lightly touching his wrist as an example. "My head hurts. Constantly. And I am very tired."

"Okay, no, love, that's not normal," Hob says. He doesn't know how he didn't notice. Then again, he hadn't noticed the first time Dream was suffering. Or at least, he'd noticed, but he hadn't grasped the depth of it until it was nearly too late. Damn Dream's self-sufficiency.

"I am dying, then," Dream declares, with finality.

"You're not dying. You can't die, remember?" Not unless you choose it, the back of his mind whispers. A new fear that lingers constantly, always chewing on him. "But you shouldn't have to just suffer either without us trying to do something about it. I'm sorry I didn't notice."

"It's of no consequence," Dream says, contemplative now, perhaps thinking through the concept of not having to suffer wordlessly. God, this creature.

"There is something you can do to fix it, then?" Dream asks then, hopeful.

Hob would give anything to be able to just solve all of his problems. "I don't know what yet, but I'm sure we can do something more than literally nothing at all."

Dream cracks a small smile, and tips toward him, like he'd really like to lean on Hob's shoulder but is being prevented by the fact that he currently feels made of glass. Poor thing.

"You should rest more," Hob says. "Will help the cold clear up quicker. I'll get you more pillows."

When he's gotten Dream propped up against what feels like all the pillows in the house, he sits beside him in bed, laptop open. It's only seven p.m., and he's still got marking to do, but hopefully Dream won't mind the company.

Lying on his side again, Dream watches him as he types, gaze piercing and solemn. "You need something else?" Hob asks.

"Conceptually, I would like a hug," Dream says gravely. "But I am aware it would not feel pleasant at the moment."

"Poor darling. How about this." Hob takes off his sweatshirt and drapes it over Dream's shoulders.

Dream pulls it close and tucks his nose into the collar. "Thank you."

"You want the TV on?"

Hob only even has a TV in the bedroom because of Dream. Dream never spends any time actually watching TV, but the background noise of the stories seems to soothe him and lull him to sleep. Hob wonders if it reminds him of the background noise of the Dreaming.

Dream nods, so Hob turns it on low, paying no real attention to what's even playing. Whatever it is, it quickly puts Dream to sleep.

Hob looks down at him. He looks peaceful now, all that seriousness melted away from his expression. Hob should probably have known that he would approach human life with the gravity with which he approached all else.

He lays a light hand on Dream's dear forehead again--still no fever--and then ghosts it over his hair. Dream is so much more resilient than he gives himself credit for. So much more resilient than he should have to be.

Hob tucks the blankets in tighter around him, and lets him sleep.

#making dream suffer again #dreamling #ask #anonymous #my writing #chronic pain dream #sickfic

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