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4unnyr0se · 6 hours

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❥ life of the party | suguru geto

warnings: fem! reader, college au! geto, frat boy! geto, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, sex while high, protected sex, geto is a gentlemen in the streets and a freak in the sheets, needy geto, cunnilingus, rough sex, mating press, degredation, sadist geto mention, geto is a top, shoko, gojo, nananmi, haibara, mei mei, and utahime mentioned, proofread, b99 mention, this is absolute filth

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.4k

100 follower special - i love you all so much <3

did i name this after a song by the weekend? yes i did

Being a homebody had its perks. You didn’t have to go anywhere you didn’t want to, and all of your stuff was in one place, always within arms' reach. Your remote? On the nightstand. Boom, that was your source of entertainment for the night. Who needed to out when you could binge Brooklyn Nine-Nine? Not you, that’s who.

Introversion also came with being a homebody, like a buy-one-get-one deal. You were known for being quiet, always sitting in the back of the lecture hall with one earphone in, diligently taking notes that your classmates always asked to copy after the lecture. You never understood why people paid so much to party at university; why not just get the degree? Stay quiet, do your work, get that piece of paper, make bank. You thought that was a good life goal.

But when your best friend Shoko begged and pleaded with you to come along to a frat party that Kappa Alpha Psi was having, you really couldn’t turn her down, especially since she had sent you all her biology notes when you were out sick for a week due to allergies. So when she showed up at your university apartment with a revealing dress in one hand and a bottle of Smirnoff in the other, you begrudgingly accepted.

“So, what are frat parties like? You’ve been to what, two?” you asked, pulling down the hem of your dress. It was Shoko’s from a couple of years ago, and it fits you perfectly; the black fabric hugged all your curves in all the right places. “They’re probably loud. Should I have brought my headphones? Let’s go back and get them.” Shoko tutted at you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you beside her. Despite your reservations, a curiosity ignited within you, pushing you forward.

“You have got to relax; you’ll be fine.” your best friend assured you, taking the cigarette from her glossed lips. “And yeah, they’re loud, but all parties are loud. That’s why they’re parties and not get-togethers.” Shoko smirked and flicked off the Smirnoff cap with her finger, the plastic barrier flying onto the grass of the frat house. “Well, we’re here. Are you ready to get shitfaced?” she didn’t even wait for you to respond, taking the vodka to her lips and taking a greedy sip.

“Wow, you seriously wanna get drunk,” you pointed out, an eyebrow raised in concern for your dearest friend. “Am I gonna have to hold your hair back like last time?”

“Definitely,” Shoko giggled, dragging you inside the bustling house. You observed the red solo cups that littered the front lawn, which raised many questions in your already racing mind. Were the members of Kappa Alpha Psi so disrespectful that they didn’t even bother to take care of their own house? What if they were mean or even creepy towards you? Oh god, you felt yourself panic as the door closed behind the two of you, the stains on the wood not relaxing you in the slightest.

Shoko could feel your heartbeat increase and pulled you aside, cupping your cheek in assurance. “Hey, relax,” she reasoned softly, rubbing her soft thumb up and down your cheekbone. It reminded you of the time when there was a rumor going around that the two of you were lesbians, and it wasn’t entirely wrong. Shoko was a lesbian, and her girlfriend Utahime belonged to a charity sorority at another university. “You’ll be alright. Some of these guys are my friends.”

You groaned and shifted your feet, finding your high heels too uncomfortable. “Seriously, you’re friends with some of these clowns?” your eyes landed on a man in your English class hanging off the railing, screaming about how he was king of the world. What was his name again, Haibara? “Is…is that one gonna be okay?” you pointed to his flushed face, no doubt caused by the ridiculous amount of alcohol available for consumption.

“What, Haibara? He’ll be fine, I think he’s always like this. Poor fella, kind of stupid, too. But that's why he’s a frat guy.” Shoko shrugged her exposed shoulders and walked with you to a living area, luckily finding a seat that didn’t have people making out on it. She picked up a half-drunk beer bottle and placed it in your hand, taking another puff of her cigarette.

“Uh, no thanks. I don’t know whose mouth has been on this,” you refused, placing the bottle back on the table. Your lungs inhaled the cigarette smoke, irritating your throat. “Fuck, why do you keep insisting on smoking cigarettes? Just vape like a normal person.” your hands waved away the smoke from your face.

Shoko opened her mouth to speak, smiling as she gazed at someone standing behind you. You turned around in curiosity, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, Geto! I had no idea you went to these parties.” Shoko stood up to hug her friend, the height difference between them being hilarious. “Hey, this is my buddy Suguru. He’s a frat member, but he doesn’t go to any of the parties. How weird is that?” she giggled, clearly drunk from the vodka.

Geto patted Shoko on her shoulder, only touching the clothed part. “I just came back for my beer,” he pointed to the table, referring to the half-empty bottle. “I forgot I left it down here, and then the party started. I figured I would get it now before someone decided it was theirs.

Shoko turned to you and grinned, her smile being so bright it could attract moths. Fuck, she definitely had an idea brewing in that head of hers. “Oh my god! You were just about to drink from that, weren’t you!” she shoved Geto onto the sofa next to you, picking up her bottle of Smirnoff. “It’s a little meet-cute, aw! You guys are so cute. Oh my god!” Shoko wouldn’t stop rambling, causing you to let out a very annoyed groan. You loved Shoko, honestly. But sometimes she was a bit much, especially when she was drunk off her ass.

“Shoko, I think…oh my god, is that Mei Mei?” you pretending to be surprised, pointing at a crowded corner. “Doesn’t she owe you some money? I don’t think she ever paid you back, y’know.” A smirk played on Geto’s lips; he knew what you were doing.

“What, where?! Oh, that bitch! I’ll fucking cut her!” Shoko angrily yelled, storming off to find the non-existent Mei Mei.

Geto leaned back into the sofa, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So, you do that when you don’t wanna deal with your friends as well?” he asked, sipping his beer.

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest, unintentionally pushing your breasts upwards. “Yeah, all the time. I’m not proud of it, but sometimes Shoko is too much, especially when drunk.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed, offering you a sip of his beer. You accepted it, now that you know it was his and not some creeps. “My best friend, Satoru, likes to pick fights when drunk. I do my best to break them up, but he doesn’t really like when I do that.” Geto sighed, getting tired just thinking about it. “You don’t like parties that much, do you?”

You looked up at his violet eyes, slightly spooked by his observation. “How did you know that? I’ve only just met you.”

Geto chuckled and took another sip of beer, observing how your lipgloss stained the textured brim of the glass. “I mean, you’re not even wearing your own dress and heels. That’s Shoko’s. She wore that exact outfit to a party last week.” he smirked, seemingly proud of himself.

You buried your face in your hands, almost embarrassed. Were you that easy to read, or was Geto really smart? “Yeah, I don’t really have any outfits to wear to a party. Why do women have to dress up while men wear, well, what you’re wearing? No offense.” you gestured to his casual white t-shirt and black sweatpants, contrasting with your tight black dress.

“I have no idea. Maybe people feel the need to impress us? I don’t see the appeal, I’m afraid.” Geto smiled at you, standing up and offering you his hand. “You look pretty uncomfortable. Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes? Sorry if I’m being too forward.” he smiled softly, a faint cherry blush dusting his pale face.

“Sure, why not?” you shrugged, taking Geto’s hand. You noticed how much larger it was than your own, how it completely engulfed your smaller hand. Geto noticed as well; the blush is growing just a tad darker. “Besides, Shoko might kill me if I get a stain on this dress. I’m 99% sure she used it to go clubbing in.” you chuckled, following Geto up the frat house stairs. It was littered with red solo cups, couples making out, and other lewd acts. You’re not sure why you were surprised; it was a frat house. Everyone at this damn party was depraved.

Weaving through the mess of bodies in the uppermost level of the frat house, Geto finally reached his room. After struggling to find the correct key to unlock his door, he let you inside and quickly locked the door.

“Um, why did you lock it?” you asked, your heartbeat quickening. Did he secretly have something absolutely sinister planned?

“So no one can come in here to fuck on my bed.” his smile was reassuring, comforting. Geto flicked on the lamp beside his neatly made bed, illuminating your two faces. His room was immaculately neat, and it was kind of gross to look at. His pillows always had a partner, and his sheets had no stains on the precious cotton (or silk?) material. There wasn’t a scuff or scratch on any of the wooden furniture, and even his fucking shoes were color-coordinated.

“The shirt might be a little big on you, sorry.” Geto handed you a spare t-shirt that had The Weeknd written on it. “I got it at a concert a while back when I went with Satoru. It was really good.” he also handed you a pair of his sweatpants, boasting the school color of navy blue. “I’ll turn around and cover my eyes, don’t worry. I can even go out in the hallway if you like.”

You were taken aback at his politeness, not expecting it from a member of such an…interesting frat. “You can just turn around. I trust you not to peak,” you assured him, shimmying out of your dress once Geto faced the wall. He was whistling in an awkward attempt to break the silence, which you found kind of adorable. The fabric of his shirt wasn’t the best quality, but it was warm and quite big on you. His sweatpants were as well; you looked like a baby penguin. Your hair was put into a very messy bun, but your eyeliner and mascara still look okay.

“You can turn around now, I’m decent.” After giving Geto permission, he turned around and uncovered his violet eyes. His gaze instantly landed on how loose his shirt was on you like it was swallowing you entirely. He’d be lying to himself if he said you didn’t look absolutely adorable because you really did look so fucking adorable. Geto was tall, so his clothes usually made anyone else drown in them, but this time, it was different. This time, he felt attracted to the person wearing his clothes. Geto found his mind spiraling, thinking why he had never seen how cute you were before. Were you just not around his side of the campus? Geto didn’t know, maybe he was overthinking this whole thing. Fuck, seeing you in his shirt made him spiral for a moment there.

“You look comfortable,” he smiled, his sleepy eyes not leaving yours. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something? To distract from the shitty music downstairs, I don’t know why I let Nanami make the soundtrack when all he puts on it is My Chemical Romance…” Geto trailed off, putting a hand on his hips. His fingernails were painted black, which you thought was cute.

“Yeah, I’m down for a movie. What did you have in mind?” you sat down on his bed, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress.

Geto sat down beside you, giving you a comfortable amount of space. “Hm, wanna watch a horror movie? I know a trick that will turn everything the villain does into something funny.” he looked at you, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

You titled your head to the side and gave him a quizzical look. “Such as?”

Geto reached across your body, accidentally staring at your clothed chest for a second. He opened his bedside table and pulled out an expensive-looking dab pen.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker, Geto,” you smirked, leaning closer to look at the device better. “This doesn’t look cheap either; it’s got a battery and everything. Damn.”

Geto chuckled and clicked the pen on as the movie’s intro credits played. “I take it you know your stuff?” He held the pen to his lips, not taking a hit just yet.

You shrugged and pretended to brush your hair over your shoulders. “Maybe I’m just that smart,” you playfully wink, giggling. “Nah, I’m messing with you. My freshmen-year roommate was a pretty heavy smoker, so I got a good look at her supplies. I’ve smoked before.” You took the pen from his hand, clicked the button on the side, and took a minor hit. The vapor filled your lungs and came through your nose, causing you to cough a little. “Holy fuck, you have strong weed.”

Geto chuckled at your coughing, rubbing your neck. He took a hit of the pen, barely coughing at all. “Yeah, well, I like to relax. Keeps me sane, y’know? In this house, you gotta have your vices, or you might lose your mind.”

“Tell me about it,” you grumbled, looking at your feet in Shoko’s high heels. Why were you wearing heels to a frat party? Ugh, Shoko always managed to talk you into doing stupid shit. “I smoked a lot in high school, but that was mainly because of the academic pressure. I was an honor roll student and am now on the dean's list. Go figure, right? Huge fucking nerd over here.” you pointed to yourself and laughed, eyebrows furrowed.

Geto rolled his eyes and swatted your hands down, giving you a stern look. “Don’t put yourself down like that, not ever. Being a nerd is a good thing.” He gestured to his door, the only barricade from the chaos outside. “Eventually, the idiots out there will work for you. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

“Hell yeah,” you high-fived him, blushing at the contact. Once again, you were staring at how much larger his hands were than yours. In fact, all of him was larger than yourself. “All those assholes will work under me, just you wait and see.”

“Mm, confidence. That’s something the girl in the movie has too much of. She thinks she’ll survive,” the screen displayed a horrid image of the petite blonde girl with a bear trap encasing her rib cage, killing her instantly. “But she won’t. These things are so fucking predictable.”

You giggled as the girl’s face contorted in horror, her eyes lifeless on the small television at the end of Geto’s bed. “You were right; weed makes the deaths seem funny. Are they all idiots?” You smile at him, a loose strand of hair dangling from your bun.

Geto curled the strand of hair with his index finger and tucked it behind your ear, brushing gently on your tender cheek. “Yeah, they must all be idiots.” His voice was deep and low, mouth slightly agape. Maybe it was because he was high, but Geto was absolutely mesmerized by your beauty. How you looked fucking delectable in his clothes, in his shirt. Your lips looked so soft; would you mind if he kissed them? Just for a second, to see if they were as soft as a petal. Just for one agonizingly slow second? Fuck, Geto had never wanted anyone so badly in his entire fucking life.

“Geto, you’re staring.” You muttered, your voice falling upon deaf ears as Geto unconsciously leaned closer. “N-now, you’re getting really fucking close.” His hot breath made your skin tingle, goosebumps rising on the flesh of your exposed forearms. Your lips were parted as well, centimeters away from his own. You could see every imperfection on his face, especially the bags under his eyes, which made him even more attractive. He looked so tired, so sleepy, so ethereally handsome.

“Please,” he breathed against your lips, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. His voice was deep and desperate, breath somewhat shakey. “Please, let me kiss you, baby. You’re so pretty.”

Nodding slowly, you brought your lips to kiss so they were ghosting over each other; it was barely even a kiss. You wanted him to make the first move, to be the gentlemen he had been to you at the start of the party. “Kiss me, Geto.”

Having been given your approval, Geto pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and gentle, his hands cupping your face while rubbing up and down on your cheekbones. The kiss was incredibly fragile, so very delicate. Your lips moved together in tandem, neither of you knowing if the other was okay with the intensity of the moment increasing to something a bit more depraved and desperate.

You cautiously reached up and grabbed the hair tie that held his bun in place, taking it off and snapping it around your wrist. Geto’s dark hair fell onto his shoulders, creating the most beautiful display. Your hands wasted no time grabbing his locks and tangling them with your fingers, curling the strands beneath them. A spark set off in Geto, his lips becoming more aggressive with your plush ones. He pressed his body closer to yours, his hand traveling from your face to your lower back, pulling you in. They landed on the small of your waist, dipping under the fabric of your (his) t-shirt. His hands massaged gentle circles on the flesh, eliciting the cutest little squeak from your occupied mouth.

Waves after waves of arousal surged through Geto’s body, his hands now desperately squeezing into your waist. He broke the kiss, staring into your eyes as the both of you gasped for air. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned softly, attaching his lips to your sensitive neck, trailing a path of fiery kisses down to your collarbone. His teeth grazed the bone as possession took over his body, latching onto the spot right above your collarbone. Your supple skin felt absolutely lovely under his tongue, he was struggling to maintain control of his faculties. The way your face contorted in pleasure didn’t help either, angelic moans falling from your bruised lips as your hands remained tangled in his midnight strands.

You pulled Geto away from your neck, his saliva covering the bright purple hickey. You stared into his violet eyes, your face flushed and your breathing heavy. The two of you stared at each other briefly, your minds fuzzy from the kissing high. Or was it the marijuana that made you feel like you were floating?

“Geto,” you muttered, your hands adventuring to play with the hem of his shirt. “Make me feel good.”

That was all Geto needed; what he longed to hear came from your pretty mouth. He shoved you down onto the mattress with a grunt, wedging his knee between your thighs. His lips attacked your neck once more, sucking and biting and licking with a purpose. His shirt was long forgotten, tossed behind him, and landed on the television screen. Geto shifted his knee to massage your clothed core, earning him a pretty little yelp. “Yeah, you like that?” He groaned against your neck, kissing the spot behind your ear. “You want me to grind down on you more, pretty thing?” Fuck, his voice was a drug in and of itself. It was practically fucking dripping with honey.

Your hands were running up and down on his abs, your long nails causing a sensation that Geto could only hope to describe. “Please, please, Geto. Need it, please.” You whispered, grinding yourself down onto his knee, so desperate for any kind of friction you could receive.

“Do you always get this needy when you’re high, dollface?” He purred against your neck, removing the top you wore with no trouble. The light from the movie only did so much to illuminate the bra you wore, not that Geto cared much for lingerie. He was too focused on what was hiding beneath the lacy fabric. “Take this off. Fuck, I love needy girls.” He commanded, the bulge in his sweatpants growing with each passing second.

You unclasped your bra and tossed it aside, shivering as the cold air made your nipples grow hard. Geto attacked your breasts within an instant, his tongue rolling over your right breast while his hand paid careful attention to the other, the sensations not being too weak or too strong on either side. Soft moans escaped your lips, the feeling of want bubbling inside your core as Geto suckled at your chest like he was made for you. “Ngh, not too hard! M’sensitive there,” you gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, scolding him.

“Sorry princess, s’not my fault you got such pretty tits,” he chuckled, letting go of your breast with a pop. His hand trailed down your midriff, toying with the hem of the sweatpants you wore. His sweatpants. “Let’s take these off, okay? After all,” he hovered his mouth against your ear, licking the shell like a tease. “You gotta be nice and prepped so I can fuck you senseless.”

Geto peeled his sweatpants off your legs, the fabric pooling at your ankles. He lifted your legs so they rested on his strong shoulders, pulling his face closer to your aching core. He smirked at the little wet patch displayed on your panties, his nose rubbing against your clothed cunt. His teeth bit down on the thin fabric and pulled them aside, the lighting in the room doing your gorgeous pussy no favors.

“Shit, you’re soaked,” Geto whispered, his hot tongue sliding up your folds, the cutest little moan falling from your lips. His tongue drew playful circles on your throbbing clit, smirking as you whimpered and pleaded for more.

The faint screams coming from the television were long forgotten as Geto indulged himself in your core, groaning occasionally as your sweet nectar coated his tongue. It was like ambrosia to him, the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He dipped his tongue into your welcoming entrance, swirling around oh-so-carefully. He went as deep as he could, practically burying his face in your needy cunt.

“Shit, Geto!” You cried, your nails leaving angry crescent-shaped imprints on his muscular back. Geto didn’t mind, he could just show it off later. While the rest of those idiots were getting drunk on alcohol, Geto was drunk off of you. Your everything was so intoxicating. You relished the feeling of his tongue inside of you. Was he spelling his name with his tongue? He chuckled occasionally, sending vibrations so deep inside you that it almost sent you over the edge every time.

He rhythmically plunged his tongue inside your weeping entrance, desperate to explore every single inch of you. His tongue would accidentally flick over that most sensitive spot inside of you, making you whine in pathetic delight. Geto was observant, memorizing what flicking and sucking matters made your legs tighten around his face. He teased you relentlessly, just keeping you on the verge of orgasm.

Geto nibbled on your sensitive clit, moaning as you desperately tugged on his hair. “Geto, please! Fuck, oh my God! I’m gonna cum, shit!” You sobbed, thighs trembling in agonizingly extreme euphoria.

He pulled away as soon as those words left your mouth, his face covered in your slick and his saliva. Geto winked at you and shoved his sweatpants off of his toned body, removing yours from your ankles as well. Fuck, he needed to fuck you right then and there, or it would kill him. He craved to fill you, to fuck you, to make you scream his name so everyone downstairs would know who was getting it on.

His boxers long forgotten about, Geto’s dick stood hard and eager between his legs, slapping onto his rock-hard abs. You gasped as you saw the silhouette of his cock, wishing you could be able to see it in its full glory. “Fuck, you’re huge. A-are you sure it’ll fit inside me?” You whimpered, spreading your legs as you lay in missionary.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make it fit.” Geto purred, giving you a quick kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a sensation you never thought you would experience before today.

“Uh, do you have a condom?” you sheepishly asked, squeezing your legs together. “No offense, but I don’t know where that monster has been.”

“Relax, don’t worry,” he assured you, reaching into his nightstand drawer. Geto rummaged around briefly before pulling out a little foil square. “I’d never make you uncomfortable.” He ripped open the packet with his teeth, rolling the latex onto his cock with ease.

Geto parted your legs, pushing them into your chest so you were on display for him and him alone. He had folded you into a mating press, his cock prodding at your entrance. “God, I can’t wait to fuck you senseless.” he groaned as his tip slid inside of you, your pussy practically swallowing it whole. You gasped at the sensation, hands desperately pawing at his biceps for support. Geto slowly pushed the rest of his throbbing cock inside of your core, hissing as he felt your gummy walls contract around him. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he moaned, kissing your neck tenderly.

“S-so fucking big,” you moaned, running your hands up and down his toned arms. “Just fuck me already, please, I need it,” your voice was laced with a desperate and demanding tone, eliciting a growl from Geto’s throat.

“Good slut,” he spoke with approval, his large hands slapping the backs of your plush thighs. He pulled out just barely and then quickly slammed himself back into your sobbing core. A grunt left his lips at the sensation, a squeak emitting from yours. You felt heavenly to him, a new kind of drug he had yet to take. Everything was fucking perfect at the moment, especially how your greedy cunt took him so well. You were such a slut, his slut. So warm, so wet.

He continued to pound into you, throwing his head back slightly to his massive Adam’s apple, which was front and center. Your arousal completely coated his length, and he was able to slide in and out with ease, especially with the help of the condom. God, he filled you up so fucking good. His head was hitting that perfect spot so deep inside of you, the most forbidden fruit. Geto’s thrusts were quick, calculated, and desperate. His cock bullied its way into your core over and over again, wanton moans and cries of pleasure leaving the lips that Geto loved so much.

“God, how are you so fucking wet?” Geto grunted into your neck, his hot breath making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Had no idea that you were such a slut, I would have just bent you over that fucking couch and had my way with you.” He slapped the back of your thighs once more, observing how you squeezed around him. “Oh, do you like being hit, pretty girl? Is that it? Y’want me to hit that pretty face of yours?” His voice was laced with a mocking tone, punctuation at the end of his sentence with a quick slap across your flushed face.

“Fuck!” you squeaked out, the bubbling feeling in your stomach returning as Geto pistoned his monster cock in and out of your wanton cunt. The way his gentle personality was ripped away the second your lips touched his made you so fucking horny, your orgasm close.

Geto smirked wickedly and pressed his body even closer to yours, finding the new angle much easier to get those lovely little screams to come out of your mouth. “Yeah, you like it when I slap you, hm? I can feel that fucking pussy milking me, fuck, that’s gonna be the death of me.” He grunted, his thrusts becoming staggered and random. His cock twitched inside of you, equally desperate to feel nirvana. “Fuck, cum with me, yeah? Wanna feel you make a mess all over my fucking cock.”

“M-mhm! Fuck!” you sobbed, fat tears running down your face. Your hand desperately massaged your clit, allowing you to fall off the edge and into euphoria finally. Your mouth opened in the silent cry, eyes squeezing shut as heaven enveloped your burning body.

“Shit!” Geto gasped, his orgasm following without giving a warning. “Fuck, fucking take it! Yeah, fucking take me!” his thrusts eased down after a moment, his hands letting go of your legs. He collapsed into your chest, giving your breast a quick kiss. “Holy shit, baby,” Geto mumbled into your sweaty skin, pushing his hair away from his sticky face. “That was the best fuck I’ve had in a long time.”

You slowly nodded and kissed his cheek, Geto’s cock still buried inside your core. You whimpered as he pulled himself out, tying the used condom off and tossing it inside a waste basket. “That was the first fuck I’ve had here,” you mumbled, massaging his scalp with your long nails.

“Oh shit, I didn’t take your virginity, right?” Geto asked, slightly panicked. You quickly shook your head, cupping the left side of his blushing face.

“No, don’t worry. I’m not a virgin. I just haven’t had sex with anybody on campus. Until now.”

“Oh, thank fucking God.” Geto sighed in relief, sitting up against the headboard. He wrapped his arm around you, kissing the top of your forehead. “Still, that was one hell of a ride.”

“Yeah, it was fucking amazing. You know I’ve never had a vaginal orgasm before that?” you giggled, leaning up to peck his lips. Your gaze turned to the television, noticing that the end credits were playing. “Damn, guess we missed the movie.”

“How tragic,” Geto spoke with mock sorrow, pulling you closer to him. “I guess you’ll just have to come to see me so we can rewatch it.” He smirked, trailing his fingers up and down your back.

You laughed and kissed his cheek again, rolling out of the bed. “I’d be more than happy to,” you bent down to pick up the clothes he lent you, earning you a swift slap on your ass. “Hey!” you grunted, turning to see Geto looking very pleased with himself.

“I did absolutely nothing wrong,” he teased, crossing his arms over his pectorals. “Keep the clothes, they look better on you anyway.”

You smiled and nodded, butterflies filling your stomach. “Can I wear them next time I come over?”

“I insist,” he got up from his bed, kissing your head. “I usually only do one-night-stands…but you’re different. I like that.”

“Man, stop with this flattery. You already fucked me,” you sighed, pretending to be annoyed with Geto. As soon as you were dressed, your hand hovered over the doorknob before it started rattling frantically.

“Yo, are you in there, girl? We gotta go, Haibara barfed on my shoes!” Shoko’s voice was incredibly loud and slurred, no different from usual. “They were my good shoes, too, that fucking dickhead!”

Geto laughed as you facepalmed, shooting him a look of disappointment. “Well, I should probably go. Do you want my number or something?” you bent down again to pick up Shoko’s dress and heels, making sure not to forget them.

“Please,” Geto handed you his phone, smiling to himself.

“There you go, put whatever name you want,” you unlocked the door and winked, licking your bottom lip. “Text me whenever you wanna see the rest of that movie.” you closed the door behind you and grabbed a very drunk Shoko’s hand, leading her downstairs and out the door.

Geto sighed and sat on his bed, reaching behind his back to run his fingers over the scratches you had left. A ghost of a smile touched his lips, looking at your phone number on his screen.

Maybe frat parties didn’t totally suck after all.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto smut #geto suguru smut #suguru geto x y/n

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peachpitfics · 9 hours

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Loml

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: You have been married six months, and it is fresh hell trying to conceive an heir with somebody you are repulsed by. Luckily, your old friend is willing to help you get through it while your husband is out of town.

Length: 2.6k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Infidelity/adultery, themes allude to SA with unwanted husband (not described or mentioned), cunnilingus, face sitting, oral sex (male & female receiving), penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, sex for the sake of breeding, breeding kink?, orgasm.

a/n: This is part ii of Wildest Dreams, requested by anon here! This turned out a little more angsty than I had planned!

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Six months ago, your father inflicted the cruelest curse upon you when he married you off to his vilest friend, Lord Howard. Six months of marriage, six months of scheduled contact, attempting to make an heir. Agreeing to once per month, having to allow Lord Howard access to your body in order to do so, six attempts were far too many already.

As soon as Lord Howard informed you of his business travel plans, you began thinking about Benedict Bridgerton. Somebody you thought about relentlessly, however, in this case, you were hoping to hold him to a promise he had made you earlier in the year.

Immediately penning a letter addressed to him at Bridgerton House, with details regarding location, date and time. The staff had been quite loyal to you since moving into the grand house. Most of your time was spent in the country, avoiding your new husband – the service staff there thought you were a gift from heaven, far too good for the old codger, as they called him. They looked after you, and you ensured the same for them. They would keep your secret.

Benedict arrived by carriage a week later, the afternoon after your husband’s departure, having written to accept your invitation, but only to discuss what had been promised in the past. Benedict looked the same, but cleaner, his hair shorter. He looked grown up. He stepped from the carriage, baring in easeful smile, just for you.

“Lady Howard” He bowed properly, it felt like a jive.

You did not speak a word, jumping forward and into his arms, throwing yours around his neck. It was the first time you’d felt safe in months. Benedict’s eyes flicked between the housekeeper, the footman and you, desperately trying to understand if this was okay.

“They are my friends; they would never harm me. I know it is strange, but they really do help me keep my secrets” You tried to reassure Benedict, whispering in his ear.

“It is not strange, it is very country, I suppose,” His arms tightened around your back, lifting you off the ground slightly, “I have missed you. I did write” Benedict squeezed.

“I know,” You let him go, holding out a hand to walk him into the house, “I have your letters hidden in my dressing room. I do apologise for not replying” Ben took your hand and followed you into the house, leaving his luggage on the carriage for the staff to care for.

Benedict was amazed by the house, its long concrete walls and vaulted ceilings. It felt similar to a castle, empty and cold. After your evening meal, you took Benedict for a walk around the gardens. Two swings hung from the branch of a very old tree nearby, one of your favourite places to hide from Lord Howard.

“Where has he gone to?” Benedict asked, lighting a cigarette and passing it to you.

“France… I think. I was not paying very much attention when he was speaking. I was too focused on getting you here. I have been waiting for months, building rapport with the staff, friendships even. I just needed him to leave, so we could do this right” You stuttered, watching your feet dangle as you swung back and forth.

Benedict paused, taking the cigarette back and drawing in, “It has not been going well then?” The question was serious, but even he snorted when he got the words out.

“We have been intimate too many times already. I thought this was supposed to be easy. Women get pregnant all the time” You sighed.

“Yes, when they do not mean to of course. Also, you must account for your husbands age” Benedicts eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“Please, do not call him that” You interrupted.

Benedict exhaled heavily, “That is who he is, y/n. He is your husband. If we do this, we commit infidelity. There are consequences for such acts, are you prepared to accept those consequences?” Benedict asked. You had not ever seen him quite this serious. It scared you, seeing what six months will change in a person.

“I am!” You said adamantly, one stiff nod of assurance. There was no way you could take any more of this. One child, that was all you needed, to make it all stop.

You reached over to Benedict’s swing, his sweet face resting on the rope, thumb caressing his cheek, “Will you be able to live with this? Your child, raised as another mans? Never being their father, or having a role in their lives?” You asked, hoping it was not too cold a question. Benedict pulled slightly away from your touch.

“That is what I wanted to speak to you about…” Benedict whispered, “I know that Lord Howard is your husband and that I am too late, y/n. I will give you a child, if I can. I will give you as many as you damn well want. But I must know that after Lord Howard has passed, you will come to me” Benedicts eyes were soft and glassy in the moonlight, the burning ember of the cigarette fading in his laxed hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head and closed your eyes. How could you make such a promise?

“I do not care if the old bastard lives another 20 years, y/n, I will wait. I will wait in torment for you. Even if I must spend the next decade in hell, learning to bend time, I will. And if we are only allowed a short time together, then so be it because whether it be 5 minutes or 50 years, it will still never be enough time. There is an inexhaustible amount of love for you in my heart. I did not recognize it before, I was selfish and hopeless. The two of you will come home to me, and we will be deliriously happy” Benedict dreamed aloud, starry eyed.

You sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other with tragic longing deep set in your eyes.

Benedict’s eyes cleared, his smile faded, “I know you love me” He breathed boldly.

You jaw clenched shut, your eyes closed over slowly, a single tear running down the far side of your face so Benedict could not see.

“I love you,” He howled toward the moon, “I loved you the moment I saw you. I have adored your passion and cherished your friendship, while cowering in the frozen solitude of my own mind. I have dreamt of you and our life together every day since your marriage date, stirring in agony, every night. Every time I close my eyes, the profound pit of blackness inside consumes me – until I wake again, then my existence is marred by its lack of yours. Your name haunts my tongue, its ineffable song too wistful a sound on my lips. I am left stumbling through life, scattered across the universe, searching for you” His once invincible foolhardiness nowhere to be seen. The peaceful eloquence of his voice so familiar to you, always a poet.

Standing from your swing, hand outstretched to Benedict, you tried to allow your eyes to do the speaking. His sad, desperate eyes, staring up at you in solemn hope, his hand bound for yours. You escorted him inside in silence, the air surrounding dense with disquiet. Leading Benedict into your bedroom, separate from the Master bedroom, you closed the door behind him.

Locking eyes in malicious yearning, your bodies came together, navels pressed, hands roaming across every inch of your torso. Benedict grasped the back of your neck, enchanted look in his eyes as he littered kisses along your jawline and down your throat. You breathed heavily under his lips, breasts heaving against his chest. Reaching around for the bows on your dress, undoing them as quickly as you could, desperate to shed your clothes for him, Benedict palmed at your breasts through your dress. He halted his movements when he noticed your hurry and began stripping himself down also.

“I have been thinking, of one thing in particular, all these months” Benedict panted, leading you over to your bed. You nodded, waiting for him to elaborate. Benedict laid, his back to the bed, your hands in his, guiding you over top of him. You hovered over his nude hips, he smiled cheekily, waving you up higher. You frowned down at him, completely confused by what he was asking. He tugged you upward, your knees resting either side of his head.

“You will have to trust me” He gave a soft, dreamy smile as you gave him a befuddled one back, bare behind resting on his chest. You pursed your lips, Benedicts hands digging into your hips pulling you down onto his face. His breath hot against your skin, his wet tongue sinking betwixt your folds, starting gently at your clit. You jerked in animated surprise, finding yourself lowering back down instinctively. Benedict’s hands kneaded your behind, rolling your hips down onto his tongue. You had done your darndest to replicate the way Benedict made you feel, to no avail, at a complete loss for how you would miss his devastating body.

Your fingers tangled into his hand, drinking in every tangible flick of his tongue against your clit. His lips pressed, sucked and kissed at you, pulling you further into his indulgent dreamland. Benedict’s big, blue eyes staring up at you, grinding down on his face, his premeditated attack on you began, wrapping his flexed arms around your thighs and holding you firmly in place. Blinding pleasure laved over you, your eyes uncontrollably clamping shut so hard you swore you saw every colour imaginable. Screaming Benedict’s name, his amused tongue swirling you to completion, you panted animalistically, unable to move.

“That was incredible. I do not believe I could have prepared myself for how much better that was going to be outside my dreams” Ben moaned into your pussy, lapping at your juices, drinking you in. You rested a moment, watching Benedicts crowning smile, his asinine eyes filled with everything else he wanted to do with you.

Freeing Benedict from beneath you he shuffled up the bed, resting upright against the grand wooden bedhead, his legs out in front of him.

“Shall we try?” Benedict asked delicately.

“Please” You whimpered, crawling to him, taking his cock in your hand.

You laid between his legs a moment, holding him in your hands, moving gently. Leaning forward to kiss his tip, your tongue flicked over his pink flesh, Benedict could not help but moan. Taking him into your mouth, you sunk down in long hot strides, pressing his cock to the back of your throat. His fingers wrapped into your hair, pulling you onto him further. Benedict relished your working on him, libidinous smile engraved on his face, pure bliss.

“I do not think that is how one makes a baby” Benedict chuffed, pulling you up quickly, forcing you to wrap your legs around him. Face to face, you grinned into his splendidly hot kisses, his hand slipping between the two of you to situate himself. You felt his tip nudging against your entrance, hard and waiting, slipping inside of you. You gasped loudly, burying your face into his neck as a biological urge forced you to bounce.

Benedict growled lowly into your ear as you moved into a groove together, slow and tedious in perpetual delight. Benedict placed his hand in the smallest of gaps between you, his thumb adjacent to your clitoris; every movement, sinking to his hilt, he brushed against you softly. You were not aware that it could happen more than once, your heart quickened aggressively, Benedict tongue descending into your mouth as you whimpered louder and louder. Nails embedded into Ben’s shoulders, blood nearly drawn, your eyes holding his gaze, sheer hunger lived in his eyes. Hunger for you. Your pussy began quivering around him, aching, throbbing, trying desperately to take in more of him. Excruciating pleasure erupted from you, grasping his cock hard from within, your legs shook as your wetness spread between the two of you. Benedict did not stop this time, taking his hands to your hips as you ceased moving, manipulating your movements, grunting into your neck. Every time he led you to release, he seemed to get harder, more attracted to you. You did your best to get deep breaths in, to bring yourself back to reality, his cock still pounding into you steadily made it difficult. His teeth edge to edge in painstaking need, his forceful hands and powerful thrust told you he was close.

“Please,” Your voice rang out, his eyes needy and frenzied, “Please, Benedict, put that baby in me!” You continued to beg, his ragged panting and dreary eye contact wavering as you took control of your body again, bouncing heartily onto his cock. Every muscle in his body seemed to tighten at the same time, his hands aggressively pressing you down, as he groaned and grunted fiercely. You squeezed him inside, gently rolling your hips forward, feeling his cock pulsate inside you.

Benedict’s head rested against the bed head, his breath uneven and heart throbbing in his chest. Attempting to get off him, to allow him room to breathe, Benedict stopped you. He blinked himself back to this plane of existence.

“No, it helps if we stay like this” He explained through puffs.

“Really?” You frowned, never having thought about it.

“Yes,” He nodded frantically, “If we stay like this, everything will stay inside” He explained. You hummed in agreement, thinking perhaps that was what you had been doing wrong. Whatever it was that you were doing wrong, you were glad for it. If this made you an adulterer, a traitor, a betrayer, you did not care. Not for this.

Your hands rest on Benedicts chest, fingers splayed in brown chest hair, your eyes lingering over his collar bones and shoulders.

“What are you doing?” He asked, feeling rather observed.

“Taking you in” You purred, taking mental pictures in case you never saw him again. Benedicts hand rose to your face, his thumb rolling over your bottom lip, sliding down your neck to lure you into his most romantic kiss yet. Moments later, Benedict allowed you to slide off him, laying you with your legs up parallel to the headboard. You wondered how many more times you would get to feel like this.

“Shall I leave in the morning?” Benedict asked, a tremble in his voice.

“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed, Benedict lying next to you, a huge grin on his face.

“I joke, my Lady” Benedict laughed as you shoved him gently.

“You will be staying the entire week. I will hold you prisoner if I must” You chortled.

“Excellent, better treatment than home I expect. I will take it” Benedict stretched, every strained muscle flexing in exhilarating sex appeal. “We need every opportunity if we’re to make this baby” He smiled, thrilled at the chance to say such things, hoping one day his babies would come home to him.

“That is not the only reason I want you to stay” You said mellifluously, your soft, thoughtful eyes inspecting his reactions. Benedict frowned placidly, unsuspecting of your joyful surrender.

“You are the love of my life, Benedict Bridgerton,” Tears welled grievously, guileless love calm in your smile, “We will be together. I will be your wife, and I will bring our children home to you”.

Benedict leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, unhurried and glorious. Tears streamed down his face, amazed and implicit, his sureness of his love for you unwavering.

“How ever long it takes, whatever I must do, we will be together” Benedict smile was humble, but fearless.

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tonguepiercedanyway75 · 2 days

Text

He’s begging babe stay, stay, stay- Matty Healy x Reader

a/n: self titled era has a special place in my heart and I wanted to write a proper story regarding this era. Sorry if it’s shit and it feels like it’s very long.

content warning: maybe a bit angsty? fluff, smut, 18+ MDNI, p in v, dry humping, fingering, praise, dirty talk

It’s a shit day. All you have done until now is count the hours until your brother Ross is leaving to go on tour with his band.

The past days the boys were at your house just hanging around, smoking and to practice in your garage. You know because you spent time in the living room, pretending to work when all you’ve done is watch him or listen to his voice.

Matty's voice, raw and magnetic, cut through the music. Every time he sang, it felt like the world around you blurred, leaving only his voice in sharp focus.

Some times in their breaks you prayed that he would leave the garage to get a drink and when he did you felt giddy, like a nervous school girl.

Your eyes followed his every move. His black skinny jeans clinging to his body, the black shirt and leather jacket matching his persona. He’s just so attractive.

You’re grateful that Ross is part of the band. The past years have been a blessing because you could innocently see Matty and be around him without it being weird.

Your heart started racing when he entered the room, most of the times it was the middle of the night and you were grateful for the darkness that hid your flushed cheeks. You tried to focus on your breathing, but it was futile. The mere thought of him noticing you made you feel like a bundle of nerves. You had been around these boys all your life, but Matty—Matty was different.

You’re dreading the moment he leaves the house for good..

21:18- You’re sitting on the porch trying to smoke the thoughts away but every drag hurts your lung immensely.

They’re playing ‘you’ right now and you can’t help but close your eyes to the muffled music. You really will cry to the end. Cry until there’s no tears left. Maybe it’s over the top because you can’t even hold eye contact with Matty and he would never fall for you.

You’re very aware of the many different girls he had or has. And you, you had your first kiss a month ago with some football player because you tried to forget about him but you just can’t.

The reality of their imminent departure is settling in. The garage is alive with music, but you feel the weight of the upcoming silence. You will miss Ross, of course. His absence will leave a void in the house, but Matty's absence will leave a void in your heart.

You take another drag, the smoke burning your throat. The stars above are a blur through your tears. You wish you can be brave enough to tell him how you feel, but the fear of rejection is paralyzing. You would rather suffer in silence than risk the delicate balance of your current reality.

As the song changes to ‘robbers’, you let yourself sink into the music. The lyrics feel like they are written for you, capturing the longing and the heartache you can’t express. Tomorrow, they will be gone, and you will be left with nothing but memories and unspoken words.

You exhale slowly, the smoke dissipating into the night air. The porch light flicker, casting fleeting shadows. The night is as restless as you are, and the loneliness is beginning to set in. You hug your knees to your chest, feeling the cold concrete against your skin, and let the tears fall.

The music winds down, the final chords of hanging in the air like a whispered goodbye. You feel the silence settling in, heavy and inevitable. The garage door creaks open, and the boys' laughter floats out into the night, but it feels distant, like it belongs to another world. You crush the cigarette under your foot, watching the embers fade, a mirror to your fading hope.

You’re sitting there hugging your knees, covering your face and you can’t even hear footsteps approaching.

“D’you mind some company?”

This can’t be.

You look up, mascara completely ruined but you wipe your face with your sleeves. Matty is looking at you and his gaze drops, you think it’s almost a bit of worry.

“Shit,” he says, “sorry, I can go if I’m interrupting?”

“No no, it’s ok.” You say, pulling out another cigarette.

He nods as he leans against a wooden beam in your driveway, mirroring your movements by also lighting a cigarette.

The silence is sickening. You sure as hell won’t say anything because he caught you crying like a wimp in front of the door while they are playing their songs.

“S’ it Ross?” You think about how stupid the question is and you agree with Matty even though you want to say, ‘No, it's you.’

"Yeah," you lie, nodding. "It's Ross. Just gonna miss having him around."

Matty takes a drag, his eyes fixed on some distant point in the darkness. "He'll be back, you know. It’s just a tour. He’ll come home."

You nod, the lie sitting heavy in your chest. "I know. It's just... different without him here."

He flicks the ash from his cigarette, the glow illuminating his features for a brief moment. "Yeah, it's always different when someone's gone. Makes you realize how much you take them for granted."

He’s looking at you. He’s seeing you. The way he looks at you makes your breath catch in your throat. There's an intensity in his gaze, a softness that you rarely see. It's like he's trying to understand, to reach out without words.

You wonder how he sees you. Here you are, sitting on the porch with ruined mascara, tears staining your cheeks, and your heart on display. It's embarrassing, and you feel exposed under his gaze. But there's something in the way he looks at you that makes you think he sees more than just the tears and the smudged makeup. Maybe he sees the vulnerability, the raw emotion that you've been trying to hide.

You want to tell him it's not just Ross. That the thought of him leaving is what's tearing you apart. But the words stick in your throat, and you just nod again, staring at the ground.

“Ross became my family as well,” he says softly, “means you’re family too and we all are going to miss you.”

Your heart aches at his words, knowing how much more they mean to you than they do to him. "Thanks, Matty.“

You wonder if it’s the last time you’ll say his name, how long it will take for you to say it again.

“How long until you leave here?” You ask hoping deep down he tells you they won’t leave at all.

“Planned on leaving at 2,” he tries to smile, “punctuality isn’t our strength as you may know.”

You manage a small laugh, though it feels hollow. "Yeah, I know."

He glances at his watch and then back at you. "It's not too late. We still have some time. You should come inside, hang out with us for a bit.”

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit.” You want to be alone with him, and the thought of being in a room with the whole band right now feels overwhelming. So you decline, shaking your head gently.

He seems to understand, not pushing further. Instead, he surprises you by sitting down next to you on the porch steps. The proximity sends a rush of warmth through you, even in the cool night air.

"Y'know, I've always liked these quiet moments. Sometimes, it's nice to just... be.”

You nod, appreciating his words. "Yeah, it is.”

He turns his head slightly to look at you, and you meet his gaze. There's a softness in his eyes, a hint of something that feels almost like longing.

You notice Matty's smell—a mix of his cologne, a hint of leather from his jacket, and something distinctly him. It’s comforting and intoxicating, a scent you know you'll miss.

You shift slightly, turning to face him. "Do you ever think about what comes next?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at you, his eyes reflecting the dim porch light. "Sometimes," he admits. "But it's hard to focus on the future when the present is so demanding."

You nod, understanding all too well. "I get that. But I mean, beyond the tours and the music. What do you see for yourself?"

He takes a deep breath, his gaze thoughtful. "Honestly, I don't know. I guess I hope for something more stable, something real. It's easy to get lost in the chaos, but I want to find something that grounds me." His eyes drop to your lips and if you would have blinked in that moment you would have missed it. “Someone who grounds me.”

“I understand,” you gulp, wanting to be the person.

“I think about it.” You frown, not knowing what he means. “What it would be like to settle down, find someone real.”

“Like a relationship?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, “someone who just gets it. Would sort me out I think.”

“Maybe.” You could fucking punch yourself. You’re giving short ass answers but you’re scared to say more. You’re scared that if you reveal yourself it would be so much worse when he’s gone.

He leans back slightly, his arm brushing against yours. "Maybe it's not so far off, you know? Sometimes, the right person is closer than you think."

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks, and you look away, hoping he doesn't notice. But he does and he thinks it’s for the wrong reason.

“Do you have a person?” He asks.

“Don’t you think you would know, you’re here all the time.”

He chuckles and it might be your favorite sound. “Alright you’ve got a point there, love.”

Love. It’s a british thing but your heart still skips a beat, and a warmth spreads through your chest, melting away any lingering doubts or fears. The simple term of endearment feels like a promise, a glimpse of something more between you.

“Does it mean you still haven’t had your first kiss yet?” The question surprises you, he’s very forward and it makes you regret that you didn’t wait. Because maybe he could’ve been your first kiss.

“No I had my first kiss,” you say, “wasn’t anything serious though.”

“How was it?”

That’s the Matty you’re familiar with. Not the ‘romance talk’ kind of guy but the guy who has a shit eating grin on his face because he’s experienced and wants to know everything about the sex life of others.

“Not sure,” you cringe, “wasn’t how I imagined it.”

“How did you imagine it?”

“I didn’t imagine him slipping me tongue the second we kiss,” you groan at the memory and he laughs, “and he was just so violent, didn’t really feel good.”

He hums, stepping out the cigarette. “S’ a bummer, everyone should know how a good kiss feels.”

You don’t know what he’s hinting at because it would be dumb to assume he’s projecting the statement on to you.

“Not every guy is like that.” He says and your eyes find his again, “mate was bloody inexperienced.”

Matty is only 23 years old, three years older than you. Can’t be that much of a different between the guys.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I've got a lot of experience either," you admit, feeling a bit exposed.

He gives you a sympathetic look, but there's a playful edge to it. "Experience isn't everything, love. It's about the connection, the moment. And trust me, when it's right, you'll know."

You do know. You know with him, you’re sure that you want to kiss him. You want to experience life with him, do everything.

“A good kiss shouldn’t leave you feeling anything but wanted.” He shifts closer, his thigh now next to yours.

You look at him, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Yeah?"

He nods, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah.”

You can feel the electricity in the air as Matty leans closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. Your mind is a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, fear, longing. For years, you��ve harbored these feelings for him, tucking them away in the corners of your heart. He’s always been more than just your brother’s bandmate. He’s been the one who makes your pulse quicken, the one whose presence can light up your entire day.

You've watched him with other girls, feeling a pang of jealousy each time. You've imagined what it would be like to be the one he looks at with that mischievous grin, the one he holds close in the quiet moments. And now, here you are, on the brink of something you’ve dreamed about for so long.

Your thoughts are a jumble, your heart pounding in your chest. You want to kiss him so badly it aches. The desire has been building for years, a slow burn that has now become an overwhelming flame. The way he makes you feel—giddy, nervous, hopeful—no one else has ever come close. He’s the reason you find yourself smiling for no reason, the reason your heart feels too big for your chest sometimes.

You glance at his lips, and the anticipation makes your breath hitch. You’re nervous, of course you are—this is Matty, the guy you’ve loved from a distance for so long. But beneath the nerves, there’s a deeper, more insistent feeling: the need to finally close the gap, to feel his lips on yours and know what it’s like to be kissed by him.

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "Matty, I... I don't know what I'm doing."

"That's alright, love. Everyone's gotta start somewhere. Just tell me what you want." He gives you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I want... I want to know what a good kiss feels like."

His smile widens, a glint of something mischievous in his eyes. "Well, I can help with that."

You nod, feeling a rush of anticipation.

He leans in slowly, giving you time to back away if you want. But you don't. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips meet yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, his lips soft and warm against yours. There's no rush, no urgency, just a slow, deliberate exploration. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You relax into the kiss, feeling the spark, the connection. It's everything he said it would be—electric, grounding, and utterly unforgettable.

It's like every dream, every late-night fantasy you've ever had is coming to life in this single, perfect moment. His lips are warm and soft, moving gently against yours, and it feels as if time has stopped.

Your heart is racing, pounding so hard you're sure he must feel it too. There's a nervous excitement bubbling inside you, mingling with a deep, almost overwhelming sense of joy. The kiss is tender, unhurried, and you can feel the care and attention he's giving to every movement. It's everything you imagined and more.

Years of unspoken longing, of watching him from afar and wishing for this very moment, flood through you. You've dreamed of this kiss, of being close to him like this, feeling his breath mix with yours. The reality of it surpasses every fantasy, every hopeful thought. The connection you feel is electric, a spark igniting between you that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands are gentle, one cupping your cheek, the other resting lightly on the small of your back. The warmth of his touch sends shivers through your body, grounding you in this moment. The way he holds you feels protective, yet respectful, as if he's cradling something precious.

You almost whine when he pulls back.

“How’s that?” He asks, a soft murmur, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

You don’t have any words. You have to concentrate that you won’t start crying because of all the things you felt while his lips were on yours.

“Where’s your mind gone, love?” He asks, lifting your chin, not even realizing that you dropped it. “Care to tell me?”

He stops and he puts his hand back to his own body. You’re scared now, that you’ve done something wrong, that you’re too innocent for him.

“Was the kiss shit?”

“No!” It comes out way too fast, “it was the opposite.”

You can tell he’s relieved but he still doesn’t know why you’re reacting this way.

“I just don’t- ugh,” you groan.

“Take your time.”

You would but the truth is you don’t have time.

“I don’t want it to end but I don’t think you realize what you’re doing to me.” You admit and it’s a huge step for you.

“I think we have a lot to chat about hm?” He says and stands up. You don’t, you only stand up when he offers you his hand.

Matty’s hand reaches out, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours. The contact is gentle yet firm, his touch sending a thrill through your body. Your fingers are cold from the night air, but his are warm, and the contrast makes you shiver slightly.

The warmth of his hand spreads through you, soothing the anxiety that had been knotting in your stomach. His fingers fit perfectly between yours, like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. It feels so natural, so right, and you can’t help but squeeze his hand gently, as if to reassure yourself that this is real.

He smiles, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and relief. "Your hands are freezing," he murmurs, his thumb lightly brushing over the back of your hand.

You laugh softly, the sound a little shaky. "Yeah, well, it’s not exactly warm out here."

“Let me talk to the boys real quick, then we can go inside yeah?”

“Sure.” You don’t know what he’s going to say to them, if he’s going to tell them the truth about where he’s going and what he’s doing but on the other hand you don’t even know what he’s doing.

He’s leaving you on the doorstep and you already pull out your keys to open the door. When he comes back you embrace him. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, everything else fades away. He's wearing that familiar smirk, his hair tousled, and you can't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looks. There's a magnetism to him, a charm that draws you in

“Your room alright to talk?” He asks as you both go inside, where it is a lot warmer. The heat is getting to you and you feel a familiar tingly feeling in your stomach.

You don’t want to wait until you can talk or kiss again or feel him on you. You want to grab his arm and pull him against you and devour him whole. But you’re too shy to let him know.

“It’s straight down the hall,” you mumble, letting him lead you upstairs, his hands now intertwined with yours again.

22:30- And you’re in your room, sitting on the bed which is fucking exciting because Matty is sitting on your bed.

He’s getting rid of his jacket and throws it on a little chair next to your dest. He’s wearing a basic black shirt with a cutout, his tattoo on display for you.

“Talk to me, I want to know what’s on your mind, and clearly there’s a lot on your mind.” You both sit on the edge of the bed and after he’s gotten rid of his jacket he grabbed your hand again.

“I don’t know where to start,” you whisper truthfully.

Matty's hand tightens around yours, and you feel a rush of nerves as you meet his gaze. His eyes hold a mixture of curiosity and warmth, encouraging you to speak your mind.

“I don't know how to say this," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I've... I've liked you for a while now."

He raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Is that so?" he says, his tone light.

You nod, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks. "Yeah. And I don't know... I don't know how to interpret the kiss. Why did you kiss me?"

Matty lets out a soft laugh, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Why does anyone kiss anyone?" he replies, his gaze meeting yours. "Because they want to, I s’pose."

You can't help but scoff at his nonchalant response.

“You think too much, love.” He chuckles and grabs your chin to look at him. “I kissed you because I like you as well.”

“You do?” You ask.

This is all happening very fast and you doubt his words, not believing that he likes you.

As Matty's words sink in, you feel like you're floating in a dream. Did he really just say that he kissed you because he likes you too? The thought sends a rush of warmth through your entire being, and you can't help but let out a breathless laugh.

“I do,” he nods.

“Now what?”

“Up to you, love,” your head is pounding, the room is spinning, the kiss from earlier still in your head and you just want the feeling back.

You lean forward to kiss him again, your lips finding his and his hand on the back of your neck, making sure you won’t leave his your place. You can’t breathe which makes you gasp and matty slides his tongue into your mouth.

You didn’t know that this can be hot, you go with the flow, letting your tongue brush against his in a steady rhythm. You’re getting hot, your skin is on fire and you’re sure he can feel it.

You’re panting more than Matty when you both pull back to breathe. Your pupils are already dilated and you’re ready for more. You’re never ready for anything but with Matty it just feels right.

“Can we just do this for a while?” You ask, wanting to be absolutely sure of what you’re going to ask him in a couple of minutes.

“Of course, love, it’s your pace we’re going for.” You smile at his answer but before you can kiss him again he speaks.

“Can you get on my lap, it’s more comfortable this way.” You blush but nod.

You waist no time to sit yourself fully on top of him, your legs on each side of his narrow hips. You stare at him through half lidded eyes, if you were a cartoon there would surely be hearts drawn all over them, as he captures your lips in a slow kiss. The two of you sigh and grunt into each other's mouths, moaning softly when hands met bare skin, pulling and squeezing all the right places.

“Breathe, love, we’ve got time.”

“We don’t.”

You melt into the next kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck. You feel him, he’s hard and you want to grind your hips but you have self control and you don’t know if that’s what you want.

He feels the same though, wanting to touch you everywhere at the same time, wanting to undress you and show you how much you mean to him.

He finally lets his hands wander over your sides, under your shirt and you sigh into his mouth. You still need more. “Can I touch you here?” He asks, referring to your boobs and you nod.

His hands meet your waist, run over your tummy, and up to your breasts, palming them lightly, not quite the way you are expecting. You grab wherever you can get your hands on — his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer and closer — huffing when it’s getting too much, or too little.

The kisses you share are still slow, sensual, following the rise and fall your shared breathing, but this time he follows your lead, running his hands over your thighs, your hips, grabbing your ass and dragging it over the front of his jeans, where you can feel him. You bite his lower lip, and your eyes are still closed but you can feel his smile.

“Need to tell me f’ you want something,” he says against your lips.

You hum, not saying anything but you roll your hips again, whimpering when the friction is perfect against your clothed pussy.

“Wait, love,” he makes you whine as he stills your hips. “Need to know what you’ve done.”

“Nothing more then kiss.” You say and he’s not even surprised anymore.

“Oh,” he groans, he’s fully turned on and he can’t believe it’s him who’s going to show you how perfect you can feel. “I don’t want to pressure you, I’m fine with kissing.”

“I’m not,” you interrupt, “please just do something.”

You’re begging and it drives him insane. “Alright alright, lay down for me, will you?”

You lay down on the bed and watch him get rid of his shirt, throwing it on top of his jacket. He’s crawling over you, kissing your face before moving down to your neck.

“You touched yourself before though right?”

You nod, feeling too embarrassed to let out words. He’s sucking at your neck so sweetly you’re sure you’ll forget your name.

“Can I?” He refers to your shirt and you answer with a short ‘yes.’ He pulls your shirt over your head and you reveal your black lace bra to him.

He groans, “if you want me to stop,” he says, his lips returning to your fiery skin, trailing barely there kisses down the expanse of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, hands grasping at his bare sides. “You tell me right away.” His kisses litter your throat, your collarbone, all the way to your breasts. “Understand?”

“Yes,” you moan.

“Clever girl,” the praise goes straight to your core which you are pressing against his bulge.

“Lift up—” he says, giving your thighs a light tap. You lift your hips from the mattress, allowing him room to shuffle the fabric off your legs. You assist him towards the end, fluttering your feet until you could kick the jeans to the floor. Within seconds, he is back between your thighs, this time straddling his shoulders as he settles further down the mattress. His face inches away from your cunt, now only protected by the thin cotton barrier.

“And when you touch yourself,” he continues, fingers tracing the softest shapes on the outside of your thighs, over your hips. You can feel his hot breath through your panties, and it makes you squirm. “How many fingers do you use?”

“Two- sometimes three, like to rub my clit though.” You are even surprised that you’re vocal but your eyes are on the clock and you know there’s no time for being shy.

“Can do that f’you, let me?”

“Yes yes.” He slides off your panties.

He never takes his lips off of yours when you feel the pads of his fingers prod at your hole, already leaking with desire. You anticipated his fingers to be much larger than yours, but when he sinks his two digits in, the stretch is satisfying. The way he works up your arousal aiding in how easy it is to slowly pump them in and out, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you.

“Matty.”

He begins to quicken his pace, the flex of his forearm curving his fingers up into that sweet spot with precision, leaving your toes to clench and your thighs to squeeze around his head.

You are begging for his name like a prayer, the only word you can find as your abdomen tightens, a subtle tremor cursing through your legs.

“You’re a dream come true.”

You brush his hair from his forehead, wanting to have a clear view of his eyes when your jaw falls slack, the euphoric high starting at your core and bursting out over the rest of you.

At first, you couldn’t move, can’t think, couldn’t breathe. But Matty keeps working thumb on your clit and his fingers inside of you through your orgasm so adamantly that your head flings back, and a lewd moan echoing off your lips.

“Fuck,” you whine and when he drags his fingers out of you, you can hear the sound of your slick.

He takes them into his mouth, licking the glistening off of his finger. “Taste so sweet, love.”

He lays completely on top of you again, he’s trying not to rut into your leg but you got him so turned on it hurts.

You whine into his mouth, wanting him to fuck you but it’s your first time and you’re nervous and your mind starts rushing again.

“I got you, love, it’s just me,” yeah that’s the fucking problem. “We don’t need to go any further since you have never.”

“My first time was shit, don’t want that for you,” he continues, now you wonder about the details but maybe he can tell you some other time.

“I want this, with you Matty, no one else.” You earn another kiss to you lips.

“Hang on then,” he stands up to grab his wallet from his jacket and he pulls out a condom, it’s cliche and it’s making you giggle that he has a fucking condom in his wallet.

He pulls his pants down and his boxers and your eyes drop down to his fully hard length which is dripping red. He’s big. Now you’re scared of how it will fit.

He puts the condom on and moves on top of you again. “I’m going slow, don’t want to hurt you now do I.”

“If I do though, you tell me or tap my head okay?”

You nod and he tuts, “tell me, love.”

“I will, I promise.”

His mouth lowers down to yours as he slowly begins sheathing himself inside you, inch by inch. He is taking it slowly, which you appreciate. Feeling tears prick in the corners of your eyes at the painful but pleasurable fullness, he leans down to kiss them away.

“I will make it better yeah?, s’ normal that it hurts.”

Once he’s fully buried inside you he keeps his hips still, peppering kisses all over your face. “Shit,” you hiss, still feeling a sting.

“I know,” he keeps kissing your face, your neck, your arms to try to make it better. “Don’t worry, keep that head here with me.” He realized that you wanted to drift off again, but he keeps you in reality.

After a while the smile that adorns your lips makes him feel relieved, hating that he hurt you even for a minute. Once you are some what used to the feeling of him inside you, you lift your hips gently to show him you are ready. Matty is still hesitant with his movements, that is until you start moaning. The pain still lingers faintly, but the pleasure that’s coursing through you is enough to over come it.

“You’re such a good girl,” your hands grip his shoulders as continues to rock his hips into yours, his pace beginning to speed up. Matty is pressing a messy kiss to your lips, tongues dancing together as he makes love to you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that this is what making love should feel like.

He brings his finger between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit. You don’t stop the constant cries from falling from your lips, head falling deeper into the pillows behind you. Matty can’t help but groan, your noises spurring him on further.

“You’re doing so good, showing me how good you feel, keep that going.”

Your nails are leaving behind crescents in the skin of his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to mind. With his available hand he slips a pillow under your hips. Providing him a deeper angle as his thrusts become sharper.

“Stay, stay Matty, stay,” you moan. You both know how you mean those words. Of course you want him to stay inside of you but the real meaning behind those words are that you don’t want him to leave ever. You can’t handle him going away.

“It’s alright, everything’s alright hm,” You can barely get a sentence out, Matty fucking any remaining thoughts from your head.

He knows you aren’t going to last much longer, as your walls repeatedly pulse around his cock. He rubs your clit faster, feeling himself starting to loose it as you scream out his name. Your orgasm shakes your frame, as he continues to fuck you through the euphoria. It only takes a few more thrusts before Matty meets his end, singing you sweet praises as he spills into the condom.

“You’ve done so fucking good, Christ,” you can’t help but smile as he nearly collapses on top of you, his lips leaving kisses anywhere he can reach.

You’re both sweaty and exhausted, as he slowly slips out of you. You try not to wince as you feel so empty, already missing the feeling of him nestled inside you. You wonder if you ever going to know the feeling.

You watch fondly as Matty ties off the condom and tosses it in bin next to your bed. You immediately reach for him once he’s done, pulling him back down onto the blankets with you. Matty lays his head on your breasts with a content sign as you stroke your hand through his hair. The only sounds are of your breathing.

00:30- and you’re cuddling in your bed, you’re clinging to him, holding on to the remaining touch he can give you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks.

“Yes, thank you matty.”

“Nonsense,” he says, rolling on to his back to pull you on top of him, “thank you, big step for you.”

“Yeah,” you sigh in contentment.

You drape one leg over his thigh, a hand of yours traveling over his tattoos.

“Matty?” You break the silence, looking up at him. You want to tell him how you feel, how he made you feel and how you want him in your life. You don’t want this to be the last time and you don’t want him to come back in two years with some random girl. You want to be his girl.

You think about how you tell him, if you should tell him. Minutes pass and he lifts your chin to give you a kiss. “I know.” Is all he says.

You stay like this for some time, not wanting to know the time.

2:15- and you look outside your window to see him driving away.

#the 1975 #matty healy #matty healy smut #matty healy fluff #Matty Healy imagine #matty healy comfort #matty healy angst #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #ross macdonald #george daniel #adam hann #the 1975 fic #credit to cafekitsune for the divider

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gracev0609 · 20 hours

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For the Fans

The one where Danny has an Only Fans...

WC: 2k+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, this is porn with very little plot, Explicit Sex, Male Masturbation, Sex Toys including Anal Play, Edging , Cum Play

A @lipstickitty / gracev0609 collaboration.

Danny wandered into his office, guitars and mixing equipment on one side, a blank wall with some nondescript plants and background decorations on the other. There, he opened the closet, pulling out a ring light. As he made sure his tripod was sturdy the pesky ache started to become unbearable low in his stomach. Finding himself back at the closet he kneeled down, opening the bottom shelf of an organizer. Inside there was a plethora of toys, a colorful array of plugs, dildos, vibrators, and strokers lay waiting to be used. He picked a few of his favorites, things that he knew would get him off quickly and easily.

He set his choices down on the small side table within reach of his chair. Danny picked up his phone, setting the camera to video, and setting it in the holder on the ring light. Before settling in he dimmed the lighting in the room, turning his string lights on that he hung. Once everything was in place to film his video he sat back down in his chair, he was eager. The need to get off infiltrated almost every thought he had today, but he knew he should wait so he could film it for his fans.

Danny never thought he'd make and post on OnlyFans, but one of his friends talked him into making an account one drunken night after seeing just how much money he was making.

“Dude, you should do it! First, you're hot as fuck! Second, think of all the money you'd make man. You already have a fanbase, I know they're dying to see your cock. They'd pay good money for it!”

“I mean.. maybe.”

“You jerk off right?”

“Of course.”

“Then why not film it and make some cash?”

He set up the account, picking a gorgeous profile picture from the many photos he had on his phone, and queued up a draft to save to his Instagram for when he was ready to announce the new content he had to offer.

Now, Danny leaned forward, pressing the record button on his phone. He smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth,” Hi sweetheart.”

He reached behind his head grabbing onto the collar of his cut up t-shirt, pulling it up over his head showing off his muscular arms. When he looked back at the camera his hair was fluffed, his eyes droopy, his arousal already evident. He was needy. Danny closed his eyes, and dipped his head back, his hands trailing down his chest, down his stomach, over the fabric of his joggers. He palmed himself through his pants making more blood flow to his large appendage. Once he was at least half hard and beginning to tent his sweatpants, he gripped his length. The fabric taut around the head of his cock, giving his fans a teasing look at what he had concealed under his pants. Slowly his fingers dipped into his waistband, pulling them down, unveiling his pretty pink cock as it slapped against his tummy, leaving a sticky string of precum linking his abdomen with his flushed head.

A soft groan left his lips as his long fingers wrapped around his length once more, now without any layers in between. His gaze flicked back and forth between the camera and watching the motions of his own hand, letting a string of saliva drip down onto his tip and slowly beginning to stroke himself.

“Fuck.” He muttered as his fist tightened over his sensitive head.

Once he felt he had built enough anticipation he let his cock rest against his tummy while he dribbled a bit of lube onto his fingers and spread it around with his thumb. He propped one foot up on his chair, spreading his legs wider both for better access and a better view. He let his tongue poke out of his mouth as that hand trailed down his body, cock twitching as he just barely brushed against it on his journey lower. He gave his balls a gentle squeeze before dipping his thumb lower, stroking over the sensitive skin on the path to his entrance. His thumb made a few slow circles, hole fluttering at the barely-there, not-nearly-enough touch. He let just the tip of the appendage dip inside, letting out a soft sigh.

After a few moments his slick fingers replaced his thumb tracing over his opening, slowly easing the middle one inside. His free hand fisted his length, softly stroking while he adjusted to the feeling. That finger worked in and out a few times before his ring finger slipped in alongside it. His eyes were dark as he looked into the camera, shaky breaths escaping as he stretched himself. “Shit.” He whined out when his thumb swiped over his leaking tip, spreading the bead of precum that had just formed down his aching cock.

He tossed his head back, moving his messy curls off his face without a free hand. He allowed himself to adjust for a little longer this time, feeling this stretch just the tiniest bit more than the first. When he felt ready, his pointer finger slowly joined the other two making him groan at the slight sting. He let another bead of spit drop down between his legs, speeding the pace of his fist working over his cock just a little. Danny tried fighting the fluttering of his eyes, but he relented, the pleasure coursing through his veins too strong. Once he felt relaxed enough he reached his hand that wasn't currently inside himself over to the table that was holding his toys. He grabbed the moderately sized purple plug. He located the on button, pressing and holding it until it chirped a short vibration. He brought it down between his legs, slowly retracting each of his fingers before pushing the toy in. Once it was nestled inside of him he glanced up at the camera, taking a moment to appreciate just how stunning he looked like this. His silver polished fingers wrapped around his hot hard length again, giving himself a few strokes before activating the toy.

He clicks the vibration on, clicking it up 3 more times, making himself clench subsequently increasing his pleasure.

Staring at the screen he smirked,” I told you. If I could watch myself I would.”

Danny's fist begins a slow rhythm, the slick wet sounds of lube echoing in the room. He hoped the camera was catching the sound. Pleasure tingles down his spine, and his legs twitch. Huffing he lets go of his cock, reaching down and turning the intensity of his toy up. His eyes roll as he starts rocking his hips, gripping himself in his slick hand he squeezes his base, an ample amount of precum oozing out of his slit, dripping down onto his stomach.

“You were wondering if I made a mess, weren't you?”

His fingers reach down, scooping up the sticky substance before stroking himself with it. His hand picks up speed yet again, moans freely slipping from his lips.

“Fuck it feels good.”

He turns the vibrations on the toy down a couple notches, wanting to draw it out as long as he can. It’s turning him on immensely that there’s a camera recording his every move and even more so knowing that before long, everyone’s going to be watching and obsessing over him. The confidence boost he gets from reading the thirsty comments people make about him on the internet is incredible, knowing they’re looking at him, thinking about him, fantasizing about him.

He works himself to the very edge, not holding back any of the sounds tearing their way from his chest, cock pulsing wildly as his hand lets go and travels downward to turn the vibrations off while his body calms. “I bet you wanted to watch me cum already, didn’t you?” He chuckles, his stare focused on the camera. “Not yet. I’m just getting started.”

Once he feels confident he can touch himself again without losing control, he brings the toy buried inside him to life once more, the sensation sending a shiver through his whole body. A shaky moan passes through his lips as he leans forward slightly, hand reaching to the side table for the stroker he’d laid aside earlier. He flips the cap on the bottle of lube again, squirting a couple drops on the inside of the toy before dribbling a bit more onto his throbbing length. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling as the slicked up toy sucks him in while his entire body feels the effects of the vibrating plug pressed firmly against his prostate.

“Fuck. ‘M so hard…” he whines, fist working the stroker up and down while his hips buck up into it. His free hand trails up his body to his chest, teasing both nipples making him gasp. “God damn, that’s good.”

He furiously chases that high for the second time, moans and whimpers becoming whinier and needier as the white hot pleasure builds up inside of him. Just when he feels like he could topple over the edge and crash headfirst into his orgasm, his hand comes to a stop yet again with the silicone toy still wrapped around him and he clenches his jaw, fighting against the delicious vibrations coursing through him in effort to hold himself back.

Finding his composure again, he turns the toy back up a couple notches, eyes fluttering in euphoria. His hand reaches out to the side table again, finding the final toy he’d selected from his arsenal- his favorite vibrator.

It's a small unassuming bullet vibe, but it feels so good. Danny drips more lube on his cock, his hips still writhing from the vibrations abusing his special spot. Slicking it over his hard length he takes notice how red and flushed it is, being denied relief a few times now, but he's aware it's well worth the wait. His primal instincts gnawing at him to grip himself tight and furiously jerk off until he busts, but he has fans to impress. Wiping the slick off of his non dominant hand, he then reached for his phone off the holder. Propping it on his stomach it's now recording from his point of view. His hips flex into nothing watching himself bob in the air, occasionally twitching, begging for stimulation. He clicks the vibe on and begins running it softly over his length, his cock pulses as he teases himself running it up his length until it rests at his slit. His breath shudders as he teases his leaking slit with the vibrator. He twitches wildly, feeling his balls tightening. They're so full and swollen, he's so ready to cum. Cupping the vibrator into his palm he presses it against the sensitive underside of his cock. The tip of the bullet pressing directly against the sweet spot directly underneath the head of his cock. He whimpers, feeling the burning in his stomach amplify. He wraps his painted fingers around his cock squeezing himself so tight as moans escape his mouth.

“Oh-oh! Fuuuck. I'm gonna- mm I'm cumming, fuck I'm cumming.”

He pulses wildly in his hand, his large appendage flexing with every spurt that streams down his length like a white river.

He drops the vibrator, letting it slip from his palm, and his hand continues to jerk himself, milking every last drop of his orgasm. A few dribbles slip from his slit as his hand works himself. Danny pants heavily, admiring the puddle of his cum that rests in the hair at his base. While his cock begins to soften he runs his fingers through his warm mess, streaking it up his happy trail. He brings his camera forward, raising his hand slightly, the image of his cum dripping off his silver nails in view.

He continues recording as his breathing calms down, letting his phone capture his cock twitching while it softens. Finally he stops recording, reaching down and turning off his plug. He leans over, grabbing the hand towel, he wipes his mess and then carefully removes his toy.

After cleaning himself and his sex toys he sits back down on the chair in his office, completely naked. Danny opens Instagram on his phone, clicking over to his drafts, he does a final once over before releasing it into the world. Hitting 'post' he smirks, the world was about to see it. The post in question? Danny took a picture of himself earlier, it's a picture of his lap with his cock hard and straining in his pant leg. His caption is simple,

danielrwagner: 🫦 danny-swagner//onlyfans.com

#gvf #danny gvf #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #danny wagner #greta van smut #danny wagner smut #danny wagner fic

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 1 day

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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 16

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

The world felt soft around you. You took a deep breath in through your nose as you curled deeper into the softness of the blanket. You gripped it and felt a hard frame dig under your fingers, and a soft rise and fall. You curled your head in and felt a heavy hand resting on your hip, a welcome pressure and warmth as you yawned slightly, wiping your face onto the blanket. You opened your eyes and became aware of where you were, and when you looked up, you saw Kai, his mouth slightly open, breathing slowly in and out. You shot up, awaking Kai as you did, accidentally pushing into his stomach and he let out a grunt as the air left his lungs.

“Well good morning to you too.” He wheezed out, rubbing the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry.” You said, rising up, brushing the front of your dress down. “I shouldn’t have stayed. I’m sorry.”

Kai only looked at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have stayed, I’m sorry.” You repeated, trying to gather your shoes you’d taken off.

“You don’t need to rush off.” Kai said, and then added, “And you don’t need to apologize either.”

“I just-” you started, “I shouldn’t have done all of this.”

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Kai repeated.

You tried to calm your racing thoughts as you dug in the blankets for your other shoe.

“Y/N, just stop.” Kai ordered, “Just calm down.”

You stopped, your chest heaving.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I just-” you started, “I shouldn’t have told you all of that last night, and I shouldn’t have stayed.”

“You would have left in the middle of the night? And then what?”

You stammered out, “I’m sorry Kai, this was a mistake.”

Kai gestured around, “Where is the mistake? We had dinner, we drank, we talked, we fell asleep.”

You tried to reason through your feelings. Why did you feel so dirty, so foul. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You said.

“What idea should I not be getting?” Kai asked.

You stammered again, “That I’m like, leading you on.”

Kai chuckled. “Ah, I see.”

You looked at him, slightly confused by his response.

“We had dinner,” Kai repeated, “And then you fell asleep. I don’t see where me offering you dinner and then us spending time together is you leading me on.” You looked at him, unsure of what to say, “And even if I felt those feelings towards you, I’m a grown male. I can handle rejection.”

You tried to speak but couldn’t get anything out other than, “I’m sorry,” you dropped your face to your hands, “I’m being stupid.”

Kai chuckled, “Yes, but that’s nothing new.”

You shook your head. “I shouldn’t have told you all of that.”

Kai rose to his feet, slightly taller than you and approached you, pulling your hands down, “I asked.” He said, “You told me.”

You shook your head, “It’s not your concern.”

“You’re right,” Kai responded. “It’s not, unless I want to think about it. Which I may. And I may feel sad you have to deal with all of it, but it’s not life changing for me. And I don’t regret you telling me.”

You shook your head again, Kai pushed your chin up to look at him, “I don’t think less of you. I’m not upset and I don’t feel burdened with this information about your life.” He joked, “And I’m also not falling in love with you, since apparently you think so highly of yourself.”

You smiled and chuckled slightly.

Kai stepped back, “So let’s move on. Let’s call it what it was, a fun night between friends.” You nodded slightly. Swallowing back your fear. “Nothing more.”

“Nothing more.” You repeated.

________________________________________________________

You helped Kai clean the cottage up, folding the blanket back, and rinsing plates in the well behind it. The whole time Kai made idle chitchat seemingly normal in comparison to your own mind which continued to race with regret. This male, so kind and pure, so unburdened and the second you felt a moment of comfort you may as well have slit your stomach open and let the contents fall out in front of him. You cursed the ease at which you allowed yourself to share all of that. You tried to justify it being the wine, but you had feared for a while getting too close to anyone again. You couldn’t fully figure out why you felt so against letting people in, but you felt an inherent need to distrust whoever you could, as if in any moment they might turn on you.

Kai helped you load the rest of your things onto Clover, who seemed annoyed that you were intending to still make the journey home. He seemed content to live the rest of his days on Kai’s lawn.

When you tried to say a speedy goodbye Kai turned you to look at him. “Hey,” he started, “I’ll see you later?” He asked.

You nodded slightly, and wished him well, turning to walk back into the woods. As you retraced your steps, you replayed the scene in your mind—the happiness and peace you felt wrapped in Kai’s arms, how quiet the world had seemed to be. Your mate was absent last night and eerily silent today, leaving an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Days turned into nights and back into days again, a routine of solitude and fleeting shadows that seemed to drift behind trees and under bushes, always keeping you on edge.

When you returned home, you released Clover into his pen and unloaded your bags onto the table in your cabin. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady yourself. The world wouldn’t end just because you’d opened the door to someone. You kept repeating this to yourself, knowing Kai held no ill will and had no ulterior motive. He had laughed but had sworn to keep your secrets.

You tried to busy yourself, but your mind kept flitting back to the conversation, distracting you to the point where you accidentally sliced your finger while cutting vegetables. You watched the blood seep from the wound, dripping onto the dirt below as you tried to focus on the searing pain.

You wouldn't ruin this for yourself. You wouldn’t run from this.

---

A few weeks later, as summer faded into autumn, you found yourself running low on sugar and flour. You were also growing stir-crazy from being alone, so you decided to take a trip into the village, opting to leave Clover behind. The entire journey, you rehearsed what you would say to Kai, trying to sound normal, which just made you feel more strange. You did the entire journey in a day, propelled by your own anxiety.

When you crested the hill, peering down into the village, you gulped down your fear. You ran your usual errands, not sure if you were hoping to see Kai or not. After getting what you needed and exchanging pleasantries, you found yourself standing in front of his cottage door. Your hand hovered above the door for a good minute as you raised and lowered it, debating whether to knock. Finally, you built up the confidence and knocked, your heart in your throat.

From behind you, you heard, “Thank gods you finally did it.”

You whipped around to see Kai, his linen shirt slightly unbuttoned, casually leaning against the banister of the stairs. “I thought we’d be here for another hour before you finally got around to it.”

“You ass!” you yelled. “How long have you been standing here?”

“As long as you’ve been considering knocking,” Kai chuckled, shaking the loose hair out of his face.

“You really are an ass, you know that?” you threw at him.

Kai stood from the banister, walking up the stairs to you, opening the door. “Only when you remind me,” he said, flashing you a cheeky grin.

You stood in the doorway as Kai entered, throwing down his satchel full of tools and kicking off his boots. He turned over his shoulder, “You coming?”

You stepped through the door, standing awkwardly near the entrance as you pulled it shut behind you.

Kai busied himself unpacking his bag before he looked up at you from where he squatted on the floor. “You gonna say something or did you just come here to stare at my glorious physique?” he asked, gesturing to himself.

You stammered out, “I- I don’t know why I’m feeling so nervous.”

Kai furrowed his brow, standing up, rubbing his hands on his pants. “Why are you nervous?” he asked.

“I-I just have been feeling really off these last few weeks,” you said.

Kai rubbed his hands over his face. “Gods, Y/N, are you still thinking about what happened? Or what didn’t happen?” he asked.

“No!” you said back, slightly too loudly.

Kai chuckled, “So then what’s got you so jumpy?”

You swallowed, and Kai looked slightly concerned. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked, taking a few steps towards you.

Your eyes widened as he closed the gap between you. “I-” you started until he was in front of you, peering down at you with concern in those green eyes. Those beautifully green eyes.

“I-” you stammered again, and then you were up on your toes, your hands wrapping around the back of his neck, fingers curling into that stupidly unkempt hair, your lips pressing into his with a desperation you didn’t know you had in you. Kai seemed taken aback slightly, his arms wide before he melted into your kiss. He leaned forward, bringing you back down onto your feet, his arms wrapping around your back and waist as you tasted each other. He tasted of sun and sweat, and you pressed yourself deeper into him, your hand clenched in his hair, eliciting a groan from him. Kai pressed you against the door, his body curling against yours, one hand firmly against the wood. Your tongues danced, the sound of your breathing echoing between you as you explored each other’s lips. You gripped his shirt as though you were dying of thirst, and Kai lifted you slightly, his hand pressing into you.

When you finally pulled back, you kept your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted as you breathed heavily. You opened your eyes to see Kai smiling slightly down at you.

“That’s what you were nervous about?” he joked.

You scowled at him. “No.”

Kai laughed, “Then can you tell me, or can we kiss some more?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“A handsome, irresistible idiot that you couldn’t wait to kiss?” he asked.

You pushed your hands into his chest, giggling slightly. “I can most certainly resist you.”

“Mm, doesn’t seem like you can, given you debated for about an hour about knocking on my door,” Kai said as you pushed past him into the main room. He turned to look at you, leaning casually against the door, eyes glazed and his hair tousled where you had run your hands through it.

“You certainly think highly of yourself,” you mocked him, crossing your arms.

Kai smirked, “I have to admit, I do feel like a winner.” You rolled your eyes as Kai looked at you. “Let it be told that you kissed me. You started that.”

You looked to the floor, rubbing your forehead slightly. “I know,” you laughed out. “I-I don’t know why I did that.”

Kai gestured to himself, “Irresistible charm and charisma.”

“Sure,” you responded. “I’m sorry.”

“You love that phrase,” he said. You glared at him. “I’m just saying, you say that every other sentence.”

“I do not!” you scowled at him.

“You do too,” he said back. “You look at me when I’m talking to you and apologize for it.”

“Well I’m-” you caught yourself.

“See! You were about to do it again,” Kai said, pointing at you.

“I was not!”

“You absolutely were,” Kai immediately said back.

“You’re so annoying,” you groaned at him.

“Annoyingly handsome?” he smirked back.

“You know I had plans to come here to tell you I needed some distance and time,” you said, leaning against the table.

“And then you attacked me and kissed me.”

“I did not!” you shouted.

“Mm, kind of did,” he said, shrugging. “Seems a little counterintuitive.”

“Look,” you started. Kai looked at you, but you ran out of words to say.

“I’m going to be honest,” Kai said, “I’m not sure I can so easily just pretend that it didn't mean anything. But if you need that to just have been an overcome moment of emotional vulnerability, and you don’t want it to mean anything, I can try to act like that,” he offered.

You shook your head, unsure what to say.

“Or we can move on like that didn’t happen.”

You considered the options, but with Kai standing across from you, so casual, so easy to be with and talk to, so close—you didn’t want to just act like it didn’t mean anything.

You crossed closer to him. “I think it doesn’t not mean anything.”

Kai furrowed his brow, looking up slightly. “So that means...?” he said.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you growled at him. And he did.

Everything inside of you felt as though it were on fire. Every sensation became heightened as you were enveloped in the kiss, from your fingertips down to your toes. You took him in, tasted him, and devoured him. For the first time in a long time, your mind went completely silent. Kai gripped your hip, hoisting you onto the table. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he ran his hands down the small of your back, while your hands explored his shoulders and neck, firm from years of hauling downed trees. The only sounds in the cottage were those of kissing and heavy breathing. Kai’s touch was tentative, his hands gently grazing your skin, as if he were fighting himself from gripping you entirely. You brought your hands to his cheeks, pressing firmly into them as your tongue danced with his.

You hadn’t felt this much uncontrolled passion in years, and your body seemed desperate for more. Anything more that could be offered, you would take. You yearned for someone to touch you, to run their hands over your sacred skin without it burning in pain. You wished night after night for someone to savor your kiss, for you to want to give it without fighting. And here was Kai, hands searching for comfort, moving with your own as if in a dance where you led. His rhythm matched yours as you enveloped yourself in him, your chest pressing into his as you urged him closer, deeper into yourself.

This male, this glorious male who had listened to you, watched you bumble through the history of your life with nothing but a smile on his face, was now fully yours in this moment. Between your legs, you felt the heat of your own anticipation, a longing you hadn’t felt in a very long time. In pressing your hips into Kai’s, it became clear that he too wanted more than what lips could provide. You reached your hand down between the two of you, running your hand up and down the length of him, eliciting a moan from his open mouth.

“Y/N-” he started, the sound of it like ecstasy leaving his lips.

You gripped the back of his head, pulling him closer as you moaned in response.

Kai shifted a bit, pulling back, and you groaned in protest. Your body suddenly lacked the warmth of his, and you felt an immediate emptiness where he had been. You opened your eyes to meet his, slightly downturned, not nearly as glazed over as you were sure your own were.

“Y/N,” he said again.

You sought answers within his eyes, wondering if he was not enjoying this despite what his body had told you.

“What?” you asked, breath barely leaving you.

Kai shook his head, throwing the hair from his eyes. “We need to slow down.”

You shot him a quizzical look, feeling the weight of the world collapse onto your shoulders. “What?” you repeated, pulling the hem of your skirt back down your thighs.

“I just-” Kai started, refusing to meet your gaze. “You’ve been through a lot, and I just want to make sure that you want this.”

You tilted your head slightly, the blood rising in your cheeks. “What do you mean? Of course I want this. I kissed you.”

Kai shook his head lightly, finally meeting you with his green eyes. “I’m just worried that you’re moving quickly, given you haven’t been with anyone since...” He paused, stammering a bit.

You felt a flicker of flame in your stomach as you furrowed your brow, your voice slightly laced with confusion and anger. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“Nothing!” Kai responded. “I don’t know.” He paused, looking towards the floor as he wrapped his hands around the back of his head. “I just don’t want you to rush into this because you think it will make everything better.”

You shook your head in confusion, as though trying to shake those words from existence. “No,” you whispered. “No, that’s not at all what I’m doing.”

Kai looked at you, his eyes focused and hardened. “Am I the first male you’ve been with since him?”

Your eyes frantically searched his face as you paused, considering what answer he might be looking for. “Yes,” you finally answered.

Kai swallowed, and you watched his throat bob as he lingered on your answer. “Am I the first male you’ve told about... everything?”

You took a deep breath in, the flame in your stomach rising higher. “Yes,” you firmly answered.

Kai softened slightly, taking another step towards you, taking your hand in both of his, pressing softly into it. “I just don’t want you to throw yourself into this because I’m the only one you’ve shared this with.”

You pushed back slightly. “Kai, I’m not just throwing myself at you because you did that.”

“I wasn’t saying you were,” he started, but you continued.

“No, no. You’re saying that you think all anyone had to do was listen to my sob story, and I would just fall into their arms?”

Kai’s mouth parted slightly as his eyebrows fell, hardening in defense. “That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“What? Do you think that I can’t control myself? Or that I haven’t considered all of this?”

“No! I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You almost yelled out, “Then don’t hurt me!”

Kai stopped, his face softening again as you bore deeply into those green pools. Your own head shook slightly as you sucked your lips between your teeth.

Kai stepped closer, wrapping his hand around your cheek, weaving his fingers into your hair. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he promised as you slightly turned your head away. He pulled his other hand up to meet the other side of your face, turning you back to him. “Hey, I would never, ever, ever want to hurt you. I don’t even think I could.”

You scanned his face, so innocent, so willing to make promises with so little understanding of their gravity. Kai’s eyes closed as he leaned into you, his lips grazing yours as you let your own eyes close, leaning back into him. His lips softened as you did, as though he pulled the tension from your body through the connection of the two of you and disposed of it. Your body melted back in slightly, but you intended to still hold on to some of the rising displeasure in your stomach.

When he pulled back, you gave him a feigned scowl. “I don’t like that you have that as an option now,” you declared.

Kai only smiled and gave you another soft peck. “I just want to enjoy this with you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure.”

“I’m serious,” Kai gripped your face. “I just want to make sure that this is good for you.”

You shook from his grip. “I’ll be sure to give you a performance update,” you smirked.

Kai’s eyes rolled as he let out a soft huff of exasperation, then smiled genuinely at you. “Just don’t shut me out,” he pleaded slightly.

Your face fell slightly flatter as you just responded, “Don’t give me a reason to.”

To my readers, I'm sorry for what you are about to witness:

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unearthly-doting · 3 days

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Can I request a yandere Alphabet for Jeff the killer?

a/n: yes you can !! here you go <3 i've never actually done this b4 so fingers crossed i'm doing it right but!! it was really fun to do tbh!!

warnings: not proofread, yandere content, typical jeff behavior, kidnapping, forced relationships, forced affection, murder, mentions of forced murder, blood, gore, threats of violence, i tried really hard to keep it light but also it's... jeff the killer.... so....

yandere alphabet: jeff the killer

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

— he's not the most affectionate person in the world, but on the very rare occasions that he decides to show you his love, it's intense, maybe even suffocating. you'll be glued to his side for however long it takes until he gets bored, his fingers digging into your skin to the point where it might bruise, his head buried in your shoulder as he keeps you pressed tightly against him. lucky for you, most of these sudden bursts of affection last for only thirty minutes to an hour, but on his bad days, they can last well over a handful of hours.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

— he's willing to get as messy as he needs to be. blood and gore are nothing new to him, and he actively thrives under those sorts of situations. if we're being completely honest, he wants it to be messy. he wants there to be blood and murder. he'd take his time murdering whoever he had to if it meant getting you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

— oh, he'll 100% be mocking you if you're a screaming, crying mess. really, if you expect him to be nice to you after uprooting your life and forcing himself into it, you're sorely mistaken. he thinks your fear is amusing, even if he thinks the screaming and crying is annoying. besides, he finds it entertaining, watching how you get torn between cowering in fear and cursing him out whenever he does mock you. that aside, he actually does his best to take care of you. he keeps you fed and supplies you with whatever you need.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

— he'd force affection on you if it's something he wants at the moment, which mostly just consists of him hugging you tightly and sitting in silence, but other than that he sorta just... lurks around and leaves you alone more often than not.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

— he'd never be vulnerable around you. or at least, he'll try. though he tends to forget about this from time to time, jeff is nothing but a human. he has so many walls up, a gruesome reputation he loves to uphold, but there are days. everyone has bad days. he doesn't have them often, but he has them. and as much as he hates it, he can't hide that from you. he can't hide the stupid fucking longing he feels for you, or the damn near suffocating desperation that claws at his insides whenever he looks at you. he hates that he loves you, and loves that he can't hate you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

— he fuckin' hates it, honestly. he thinks your resistance is annoying, and he'd just wish you'd give up already. no matter how hard you fight back, he's never letting you go. you belong to him, can't you see that? how many times is he going to have to restrain you for you to understand that you are his? surely you know that each time you fight back, he'll only make things worse for you, right?

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

— i think in the beginning, it sort of felt like a game. he found your fear entertaining, and he still does, so he thought your escape attempts were cute and couldn't help but mock you when he'd catch you trying to escape when you thought he had gone out. after a while, it feels less like a game. he's serious about you, even if it doesn't seem like it. your escape attempts were becoming more annoying than amusing. so much so that he doesn't even mock you when he catches you anymore, his mockery has turned into barely concealed anger.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

— the murder. you can handle the captivity, you're not going to let him break you. but the murder. the murder, that's what gets to you. he views it as an act of romance, mercilessly and brutally slaughtering anyone who ever dared to talk to you. you've had one too many 'gifts' of his be pieces of the people he's murdered for you. ears, fingers, you name it. the worst one has to be the decapitated head someone you had been romantically interested in.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

— seeing as he's more than likely on the fbi's most wanted list at this point, he's never really had any dreams for the future. he lives in the now, and the only thing he wants (and, let's be honest, expects) from you is your love and loyalty. sure, the thought of having a normal life with you is appealing, but it'll never happen. he'll take whatever future with you he can get.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

— even though he keeps you confined, unable to interact with anyone other than him, he certainly gets jealous. but only before he took you for himself. he hated seeing people near you, and he especially hated when you'd go out on dates with people. sure, you didn't know you were being stalked by a feared serial killer at the time of those dates, but still. it made him so unbearably angry and the only thing that helped him cope was by, obviously, brutally murdering the people you went out with. a very healthy coping mechanism, if you ask him. better he kill someone else than you, right?

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

— generally the way he acts around everyone else, pretty much, with the exception of his older brother. he's an asshole, and not an easy guy to like. he's morbid, cruel, and overall a total displeasure to be around. especially if he doesn't care about you. but he does! he cares about you a lot, so he's like... vaguely nice. he does have a soft spot for you, even if it's not something you might be immediately aware of.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

— his idea of courting is just... not killing you. and murdering for you, i suppose. there's nothing more romantic than being willing to spill blood for the person you love. stalking probably counts too, right? because he did a lot of that. he probably also considers the 'gifts' he's given you to classify as courting, though you'd beg to differ.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

— not at all.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

— it honestly depends on how upset he is. like... 95% of the time, he just locks you in your room and deprives you of any form of social contact. he'll feed you, but you're never awake when he drops off the food. you'll never be able to catch a glimpse of him when he's punishing you like this. this could go on for months, because he doesn't stop until you're begging him to, desperate for some form of interaction even if it has to be from him. that small 5% is what you have to be worried about. if you really anger him with an escape attempt or whatever, he'll force you to murder someone, and he'll make sure it's someone you know. he's only forced this punishment on you maybe two times, and you don't think you'll ever be able to recover from it. the isolation is awful, but it's easier to bear. murdering your best friend, or someone from your family? you can't. you can't handle that. and that's why he's made it a punishment.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

— anything you have, he'll take. your freedom is no longer your own. you're not even allowed out of the room he keeps you in without his permission because of how often you try to escape. he simply just doesn't trust you enough to let you be your own person. though if you're behaving well, he'll probably reward you with some very minute freedoms.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

— he's actually surprisingly very patient when it comes to you. it's not something you'd expect, considering his short temper and whatnot. he has nothing but time when it comes to you, though he would prefer if you'd love him back sooner rather than later. but he's willing to wait, if he must. he thinks you should be flattered because if you were anyone else, he would've run out of patience a long time ago.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

— the only way he'd ever let you go is if you died, genuinely. if you somehow manage to escape, he's hunting you down and dragging you back. but if you died, i think he'd be able to move on. it'll take time, and you'll always linger in the back of his mind, but he'll return to the way his life was before you were in it with relative ease.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

— not at all. jeff doesn't regret anything he's done in his life leading up to this point. there might be a small, very miniscule part of him that feels a little guilty whenever you flinch when he touches you, but he doesn't really pay attention to that guilt. and he would certainly never let you go, not after he went through all the trouble of getting you here. your rightful place is by his side, even if that's something you've yet to realize.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

— he's not too sure himself, though he assumes it was curiosity. maybe you did something, or maybe the way you behaved caught his interest and made him curious about you. whatever it was, it spiraled rather quickly.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

— he's used to seeing people scream and cry, so it doesn't get that big of a reaction out of him, though it does feel strange when you do it. he's gonna mock you for it though, so. as for isolation... if you want him to leave you alone so badly, then he'll gladly do it. it's essentially going to become a game of chicken if you do that. one of you will break eventually, and you better hope that it’s you.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

— that really depends on how you define the classic yandere lol.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

— jeff prides himself for not having any weaknesses, though it's because he simply isn't aware of the ones that he does have. he's extremely touch-starved, first and foremost. if you're willing to do so, you can easily exploit that so long as you're careful and patient. another thing is his fear of fire. just a lighter flicking is enough to have the man freezing up, though this fear will be harder to exploit seeing as he'd probably make sure you have no access to anything that could start one.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

— he would threaten to, for sure. he's pretty good at threatening people, he thinks, but he won't actually hurt you. you're the one person he can't hurt. the very thought of hurting you makes him cringe, though you won't catch him verbally admitting that.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

— jeff is very much not a religious man, so he can't say he necessarily worships you. he does respect you, however, even if it doesn't seem like he does. he respects you more than he respects most people, and while he may not worship you and the very ground you walk on, he does put you on a pedestal. just a bit. but he would go to great lengths to win you over. he doesn't appear desperate, but just know that he craves your love and attention.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

— jeff is a selfish bastard, so the moment he decides he wants something, he takes it. maybe he'll be nice enough to let you live with your freedom a little longer, but he'll use the smallest issue to kidnap you. it doesn't matter what it was. you injured yourself? you can't be trusted to take care of yourself, so he takes you. you get a little too friendly with someone? oopsie, they're dead now. anyways, you're his; you can't be flirting with other people, so he takes you. someone is mean to you? rip to them, but clearly people don't deserve you, so he takes you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

— this is his ultimate end goal, i think. jeff hates how you fight back. he finds it annoying, and he's starting to run out of people he can force you to kill. he knows you'll break sooner or later, so long as he keeps up the pressure. maybe isolating you for a few months will finally tip you over...

#yandere jeff the killer x reader #yandere creepypasta x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x gn reader #yandere alphabet #yandere #yandere creepypasta #yandere jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer x you #creepypasta x you

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httpkaulitz · 2 days

Note

Fluff to smut~~female reader x BILL 2011 era

Bill comes home vert excited since he bought himself some new accessories (chokers) he shows them to her and she loves them on him , she Confesses that she always wanted to try them out but never had the courage to.

Bill excited about it helps her try them out but yn can't help but get distacted by the way he touches her ,noticing that he suggests her a fun little game: every time she moans louder tge choker gets tighter

LOVE YOUR FICS SORRY IF ITS LONG

Playing a game

tysm love <3 It's good when you guys asking with details so I'm sure I'm writing what you want hahaha

PAIRINGS: Bill 2011 x Female reader

CONTENT: Fluff, Smut

SYNOPSIS: Bill and you play a fun game.

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, p in v, kissing, fingering, choking

You were lying in bed reading when you heard the door open and after a few seconds Bill's voice echoed through the house. “Libie?”

"I am here." You shouted back before marking the page you were reading and closing the book.

Bill entered the room almost jumping with excitement and you couldn't help but smile. He had a meeting with the band earlier and he said would do some shopping afterwards. He has always loved shopping, much more than you. He loved choosing different accessories that could enhance his look.

“I see the shopping was good.” You said and saw him nod as he approached the bed.

He leaned over and gave you a quick kiss before sitting on the bed and starting to open the packages. More than shopping, he loved showing you the things he bought.

You looked closely at the different accessories he had purchased. Chokers of several different types. Some with chain details and even shiny stones.

Excited, Bill took one of them and put it around his neck. You couldn't help but smile. He looked like a child eager to try out a new toy.

“It's very beautiful.” You picked up another one that had caught your attention the most and showed it to him. “Try this one.”

Bill quickly took off the choker that was around his neck and grabbed the one you had chosen.

“Did you like this one?” He asked as he put it on. The black leather material with silver chain details suited him perfectly. Exactly as you thought.

“Yes, it is very beautiful.” You said distractedly thinking about how beautiful the contrast of the dark leather was against the pale skin of his neck.

“I didn’t think you liked that stuff.” Bill always thought your excitement was just because he was sharing moments with you and not because you were interested in those kinds of things. You were always very simple to be honest, the few accessories you wore were basic and discreet.

"I like. Actually, I've always wanted to try it, but I don't know, I don't think it suits me.” You confessed shyly.

"What? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Before you could even respond Bill was taking you by the hand and pulling you closer to the mirror. “Let’s try them on you, love.”

He went back to bed and picked out some of the many chokers he had bought. You waited patiently standing in front of the mirror. It didn't take long for him to appear behind you again.

Bill brushed your hair away from your neck, the contact of his fingertips made your skin crawl and you sighed. You could see him in the mirror's reflection intent on his task.

He wrapped the accessory around your neck. The choker was similar to the one he was wearing, except that instead of silver chains, it had transparent stones that reflected the light.

You couldn't deny that it looked very nice, even though it wasn't the kind of accessory you would choose for yourself.

"Perfect." Bill whispered absently, watching you almost hypnotized.

His hand wrapped around your neck for a few seconds before sliding down past your collarbone. You sighed and bit your lip to stop any sound from coming out.

“Let’s try another one.” Bill said excitedly. He seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

Every time his fingers gently touched your neck you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He finished buckling the other choker and you could see him smiling in the reflection of the mirror.

“This one is even more beautiful.” He exclaimed in excitement. His large hands grabbed your hips tightly, pinning your body to his before he buried his face in your neck.

Being caught off guard, you moaned loudly before you could stop yourself. You brought your hand to your mouth in embarrassment and felt Bill smiling against your neck.

“Let’s try one more.” He whispered against your ear. His hot breath made you want to grind against him, feeling more needy than ever.

“Bill.” You whimpered knowing this wasn't about trying on accessories anymore, he was playing with you.

“Just one more, love.” He squeezed your hip bone and felt your body writhe against him.

"Let's play a game." He said calmly as he placed the other choker around your neck. “The louder you moan, the tighter the choker will get.”

It was an unfair game, he knows you can't help yourself. He holds your chin and turns your face towards him. Hot breath on your face and brown eyes watching you. He leans closer towards you and you close your eyes and you part your lips ready to kiss him.

But instead of the kiss you hear him say. “So what do you say?” Bill has a small playful smile on his lips, clearly enjoying playing with you.

You nod, feeling your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You couldn't say no if you wanted to, which you didn't.

“That’s my girl.” Bill hummed before kissing you.

The touch of his lips were soft but firm. Pressing himself against you, Bill ran his hands down your body feeling every curve under his fingers. You opened your lips slightly, letting your tongue slip over your bottom lip as you let out a muffled moan, burying your fingers in Bill's hair.

"You get more delicious every time I taste it." He mused, making an appreciative noise in his throat as he brushed his lips over your chin.

Your heart gave a small excited jump in your chest as you felt the accessory tighten around your neck, loving the feeling of electricity that coursed through your body.

Bill wrapped one arm around your waist, his large hand passed over your belly in a sensual caress and moved up towards your breast before leaving a firm grip. You whimpered against his mouth and felt him smile before tightening the choker a little more.

“I barely touched you, love.” He whispered looking at you. His brown eyes shining with smug mischief.

“Bill, please.” You whimpered looking at him through the mirror.

The grip on your neck wasn't enough to choke you, but it was a vivid reminder of what was to come. The hand on your breast played and squeezed your nipple mercilessly. And you didn't know what to do other than press your lips together to stop any more moans from escaping.

“What do you want love?” Bill asked before leaning down and starting to kiss your neck.

You could feel the heat of his body against you and his hard cock against your ass. The hand that was on your chest slid back to your stomach.

“I-I-” You started, but were cut off when you felt his hand wander down the front of your shorts. He pulled the elastic waistband and slid his hand inside easily.

Bill slid your panties to the side and dipped a finger between your soaked folds, you had to press your lips together tighter to stop yourself from moaning.

“Open your legs wider.” Bill commanded and you obeyed him promptly like a trained puppy.

Then he was sinking two fingers into you as he watched your face in the mirror's reflection. Bill smiled as he saw your eyes roll back and your mouth open in a silent scream. For a moment he felt like it was a shame that you hadn't made noise so he could tighten the accessory around your neck.

“So wet and hot and tight.” His fingers curled deeper into you with obscene, slick ease. "Perfect to me."

You moaned loudly, your body falling forward a little as you rocked your hips against his fingers.

Bill smiled as he tightened the choker a little more. He adds another finger, feeling your wetness continue to soak his fingers as he moves them quickly. He feels you squirm more against him as your breathing quickens, his cock begins to strain against the zipper of his pants. You can feel how hard he is against your ass.

You're biting your lip so hard you feel like you might tear the skin. Bill adds another finger and you feel your legs tremble involuntarily, the sensation of being completely full makes your body burn with pleasure and pain. Your breathing quickens and forms a fog in the mirror.

"Bill, please, it's too much." You whimper pleadingly, feeling the material around your neck tighten a little more.

“Come on baby, we both know you can take more than this.” The words made you shiver and the knot in your stomach tighten.

You can still feel his fingers moving quickly and deeply inside you, taking away any form of concentration you wanted to muster to not moan.

Watching you in the reflection of the mirror, Bill ran his tongue between his lips. You had your mouth open, your eyes closed, and your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Your face was driving him crazy. It was like a work of art painted in several different tones, with colors that shouldn't mix, but that in the end make the entire work unique.

He knows you're close to cumming, he can feel it by the way your pussy clenches around his fingers and the way your body shakes and your back arches. You scream in uncontrolled pleasure. Your wetness runs down his fingers, Bill smiles looking at you as he tightens the choker making you gasp in surprise for a moment. He continues fucking you with his fingers until you close your legs from overstimulation and only then does he remove his hand from you, sucking on his fingers as you face each other together on the mirror's reflection.

Your legs are still shaking when Bill pulls you onto the bed, he throws you onto the mattress and starts taking off his clothes quickly, impatiently.

Bill smiled approaching you, he left a trail of kisses on your neck, collarbone and breasts. You arched your back when you felt Bill lean in to kiss you furiously, moaning into the kiss. His lips made their way to your neck again at your jaw line, leaving kisses everywhere.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered as his hands touched your breasts, massaging them and gently pinching your nipples through your shirt making a moan leave your lips.

Bill's fingertips slid down to your stomach. He pulled your shorts down to your ankles, leaned in biting the elastic of your panties pulling them down with just his teeth, never taking his eyes off of your. He crawled over you kissing you briefly as his hands parted your legs, opening them.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream when you felt him slide inside you all at once. Pushing deeper into your throbbing walls, Bill builds up a slow, torturous pace. You close your eyes, tilting your head back as he speeds up and thrusts faster and you feel yourself approaching your second orgasm in pure ecstasy, you feel the slow burn of your belly.

Arms wrapped around his neck, you thread your fingers into his soft hair as your breathing becomes shallow, reducing it to a weak sigh in the back of your throat. You feel dizzy, delirious as you writhe against Bill, eagerly opening yourself to him without shame. You feel yourself sinking, falling into madness of the purest kind as you feel your orgasm building.

The feeling of suffocation makes you open your eyes. When you meet his eyes, dark and mischievous, it makes a pleasurable feeling stir inside you. When Bill pushes himself harder into you, just to tease you, you see how much he is loving this game. Pulling you closer, Bill swallows your moans, making you feel drunk and crazy as he enjoys your pussy clenching around his cock.

"Bill." You didn't recognize your own voice, choked and bathed with need. You start to feel dizzy, your body shaking from the mix of pleasure and air restriction.

Bill quickly slid one of his hands to the strap of your shirt and pulled it down freeing your breasts that bounced every time he pushed himself hard against you.

Bill wrapped his hand in your hair and pulled you closer, he pressed his lips against yours a little more vigorously than necessary. Sliding his tongue along your bottom lip. He got lost between the breathless moans and the loud sound of the headboard banging against the wall. With your nails, you scratched the skin on Bill's back, burning him, marking him just below the shoulders.

He feels the cuts, feels his skin breaking and the sting of salty sweat. But you're so wet and hot and good and tight around him that he doesn't care.

He lowers his head to one of your breasts, sucking the soft skin hard. You moaned loudly, feeling his tongue piercing slide deliciously over your sensitive nipple.

“Bill, please, I can’t breathe.” Your voice was strangled as he tightened the choker around your neck.

"I'm sorry, baby." He whispers breathlessly before ripping the accessory from your neck and throwing it somewhere in the room.

You suck in air, breathing deeply. He bit his lip, watching you as he felt the deep, low pressure in his abdomen, the sweet, throbbing pain, taking over all his senses, building just beneath the surface.

Bill heard her heavy breathing, her soft, needy, pleading moans. Desperate and panting as you writhed beneath him. Your body lit up as you felt your moment of release. Bill leaned in kissing you, swallowing your moans like they were the best thing he had ever experienced.

He could feel everything, your shudder around him as you arched your back against him, your nipples hard against his chest. In the ecstasy of your orgasms, he increased his pace, continued to penetrate you, madly, blindly until he heard his name leave your lips as he spilled himself inside you.

He fell on top of you making you gasp under his weight. And despite being a little claustrophobic, you loved feeling his entire body pressed against his.

“Maybe I should try your accessories more often.” You whispered as you ran your hand through his hair gently.

Bill smiled against your neck before saying. “You definitely should.”

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #tokio hotel smut #2000s #tom kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer

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edgeray · 16 hours

Note

Hi Ray! Looked to see that you have requests open and I just wanted to hear your thoughts on mad scientist!reader who after learning about Arle’s past through the leylines, decides to request Nahida to take them to Irminsul to bring back Clervie? Can totally imagine Arle and Clervie being great parents to the HotH children (Arle being Father and Clervie being Mother)

Alternatively - what do you think happens with Mother!Reader and Arle in HotH? Reader reading storybooks to put the kids to sleep late at night with Arle at the side watching on as the proud Papa she is, all the stolen glances at each other when they think the other isn’t looking, all the looks of disgust from the children when they see their Father princess carrying their Mother the moment she gets home… (I’m really, really desperate for domestic fluff)

I am of the strong opinion that it doesn’t matter how strong Arle is, she doesn’t deserve to face all these responsibilities alone. She deserves someone as her equal and lover, one who respects her boundaries and loves her for her in a healthy relationship!

I’m going to hazard a guess and say that your inbox is probably flooding with requests, so if you don’t want to write this it’s okay, just treat it as ramblings (I’ll support your work regardless ^^)

A Home To Return To

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi anon! :D Before I start, next time you request, do you mind giving yourself a name or something that indicates that you, are well, you! ^^ I’d like to put a name to my future anons so I can differentiate between you guys. Makes it a little more personal. When I got your request, I was not flooded with requests, but I think I got like… 5 or 6 requests in the span of the past 24 hours so… you are right. This is a bit shorter, but I think this is pretty good for a 3AM writing. It doesn't completely follow everything you included but it's still domestic fluff! Content warnings / info - reader is referred to as 'mother' but otherwise GN! reader, no warnings, a bit of angst on arlecchino's part 'cuz I couldn't resist but it's mainly fluff, i promise, 0.9 words

Thoughts on mad scientist! reader will be at the bottom, because I want to prioritize the domestic fluff 🫶. And yes, Arlecchino deserves the best for her partner! Good thing there's you! ;)

Arlecchino did not know what a home was. Home was many things, but a home was neither a place of comfort nor a place of safety. If home was the place of relentless pain and practiced violence done onto her siblings by one another, then she'd rather tear apart what a ‘home’ was, brick by brick if she had to, to undo as much of the atrocity that is Crucabena's vision of a home, and rebuild her own. Her vision, however, lacked clear guidance and direction. How could she know what a proper home looked like when she herself had never had one?

Years ago, she thought she found her answer in the shape of a pink-haired girl, with a white headband, and a Lumidouce Bell necklace. Arlecchino has learned that everything always returns to ashes, and so the inklings of what a home was died away like the girl's embers.

Still, she has tried her best to create a proper home, built from her blood-spilt and cursed hands. But with such vile foundations, the House is still far from what she hopes for it to become, as far away from her vision as the stars of fate. She knows that she alone cannot craft the home that her friend sought out, not when the most she can do is contradict Crucabena's House of the Hearth as much as possible. Still, it is not enough. The House of the Hearth children still suffer under her rule, a meager improvement from Crucabena, and she detests the thought that her House could be comparable to that wrench's.

But she alone was not enough. Arlecchino was many things, but a builder was not one of them. She could not build a home fitting for her and Clervie, and she could neither build a home fitting for her children. She aimed endlessly for an answer, and then.

She finds you. Her answer.

It is ironic, Arlecchino finds, that although you do all the same things that Crucabena does, you swell with the warmth that she lacked. Yet again, contradiction is her answer, just like Clervie had been. Like Clervie, she finds home within you.

She returns home, like she does every time her Fatui business is done, and like other days, she awaits your greeting once she arrives at the door. She imagines the heat of your body, how it melts her frigid exterior with just your arms around her; your sweet words which sweep her fortified defenses away, much like how a sandcastle easily crumbles under the gentlest of waves; and your gaze softened and full of an emotion unfitting for someone like her, someone undeserving of love, of all things to associate with her. And yet you do.

Except, when she returns that day, you are not there at the door. She uncharacteristically pouts–an action the Fourth Harbinger rarely degrades herself to doing. Her upset is apparent to the children that do greet her, with their directed sneers to one another about how the Knave sulks.

“Father, Mother is currently reading a book to the little kids in the living commons,” one of her children comes up to her, a knowing glance at her. Arlecchino nods, and strides her way towards your whereabouts, nodding and greeting her children along the way, until she stops at the doorway of the room, gazing behind the couch as you finish the book you wrote yourself. She remembers it endearingly, as you based it after your encounters with her, and then the two of you's eventual engagement.

It is here, where she affirms to herself, that she's found herself a home. A home close to the one that she longed for, a home suitable for her children. It is you that can thaw the iciness of reality for the children and for her. Surrounded by the young children, you've never seen more etheral and beautiful.

“... ‘the end!’” You finish as you shut the book. “Did you guys like the book?”

The kids giggle, looking towards their Father's direction as Arlecchino waits expectedly for you to notice her. Still unaware of your husband's presence, you stand up, from the couch, placing down the book on a nearby table. As you whip around, you're met with Arlecchino's form. A charcoal hand outstretched to cup your side, the other moving to stroke your cheek.

“You're home, Arle,” you greet as you lean your cheek against her palm. Her red-crosses glances at your eyes. Like always, there is a tenderness in them, a tenderness that makes her weaker than any attack.

“Indeed, I am.”

You lean in, pressing a light kiss against her nose. Arlecchino responds by leaning her forehead against yours, enjoying your proximity.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the children around you gag at the sight.

“A bath would do you well, my love.”

My love. Oh, how deep does her will plummet from those mere two words.

“Are you implying something, darling?” The Knave teases with a lilt.

You chuckle. “Of course not. Let me prepare you one, love.”

“There is no need–”

“Arlecchino, let ‘Mother’ take care of ‘Father,’” you hum, pressing a kiss against her cheek.

Arlecchino chuckles, closing her eyes and accepting defeat. “Yes, my love.”

“Get a room!” One of your rowdier children yell, interrupting what you were going to say.

“Perhaps…?” You start, knowing that Arlecchino knew your question already. She nods, bending down to fix one arm underneath your knees and another behind your back before lifting you in a bridal position. You squeak out in surprise.

“Was this necessary?”

“Hush, love. Bathe with me?”

“Mmm… alright.”

Arlecchino carries you down the corridor to your room, followed by the snicking of the House of the Hearth children.

My thoughts on mad scientist! reader:

---

I'll be completely honest to say that I do not know a lot of Genshin lore, so unfortunately for the mad scientist! reader idea, I can't say anything besides the fact that it sounds very cool. I love the idea of Clervie being resurrected, and I can definitely see Arlecchino and Clervie as being Father and Mother. Arlecchino and Clervie being Father and Mother has my entire heart; this is the Arlevie inside of me screaming out.

Though it makes me wonder why reader would do this in the first place, what does she get out of it? I'm not sure exactly what kind of relationship you had in mind with reader and Arlecchino in this, but if reader did this for Arlecchino solely out of her affections towards Arlecchino, then it certainly makes the mad part about reader accurate.

In that case, it makes for a very interesting dynamic between reader and Arlecchino, whether platonic or romantic; Arlecchino likes to think herself of a very sane, rational person and especially want to be away from more enigmatic people, perhaps like reader themselves. This could spin into a very interesting take about obsession vs. love, which I am all for it.

Something else that has me thinking about this ask throughout the day is the motive of why exactly reader would do resurrect Clervie, so here's another idea that still makes reader a mad scientist. What if reader, Arlecchino, and Clervie were all children of the House of the Hearth and they were best friends? Reader and Arlecchino were the only ones to survive under Crucabena's reign over the House of the Hearth (maybe reader was under the tutelage of Dottore, so they were able to escape the Kingmaking event). Both reader and Arlecchino do not take Clervie's death well, of course.

With the passing of your best friend and being around Dottore, it's bound to make you a little insane. Like Arlecchino, you obsess over her death, never having gotten over her. After witnessing Clervie's shadow, you get inspired to truly make her alive again, not just a shadow. I don't know, this was just a silly little thought of mine.

<3 i wish i could pick my brain a little more but I think this is all I have, hopefully this satisfies you anon!

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #edgeray.writes #edgeray.answers #edgeray.requests

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defectivevillain · 3 days

Text

until it doesn't hurt

pairing: Bruce Banner/Reader

the reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: “I could’ve caused you irreversible harm,” Bruce says. It’s almost a practiced recitation at this point, and you have to wonder if he truly believes that—or if he’s just been conditioned by everyone around him to believe he is only capable of inflicting pain. “You didn’t,” you maintain, for what feels like the thousandth time. Bruce is so caught up in the hypotheticals that he refuses to see the success right in front of him: the fact that he didn’t so much as lay a finger on you.

word count: 2.9k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence

Being an Avenger means you have to be ready for anything at all times. That spontaneity is difficult to adjust to at first, but as time passes, you grow used to it. You grow used to sleeping lightly; to stashing weapons just about anywhere you can keep them; to having few restful days and many restless ones. The moment your powers manifested, you knew you would be a hero: not because you wanted to be one, but because it would be your responsibility to protect those who needed protecting.

You weren’t always an Avenger. At first, you were just a rogue—kind of a vigilante. But then the attack on New York happened—Loki happened—and everything flew out the window. Suddenly, you were out on the street in broad daylight, trying your best to keep the civilians safe. That was how you crashed into Iron Man of all people. You exchanged banter and insults, but when it came down to it, you protected him, and he protected you. And Tony is extremely persistent—it didn’t take long for him to sink his claws into you and drag you back to the Avengers Tower.

From there, you gradually get to know the other Avengers. Steve and Clint are relatively friendly right off the bat. Natasha is a bit more difficult—you have to earn her trust before she starts to open up to you. But eventually, somehow, you manage to bond with all of the other occupants of the Tower. At least, all of them except Bruce Banner.

Bruce is an interesting case. He almost immediately dismissed you when Tony first introduced you, instead deigning to focus on his experiments. You hadn’t taken offense to Bruce’s reclusive behavior, nor had you taken the hint that he didn’t want to get to know you. Instead, you had all but forced him to acknowledge you. This manifested in a multitude of ways: from going out of your way to talk to him to offering to help with his research. Bruce is extremely protective of his laboratory, but somehow he deemed you capable enough to serve as his laboratory assistant. You were more than content to hand him capsules and adjust minor things, while he did the brunt of the work. You took the gifted opportunities to attempt to get to know him better. At first, it was like speaking to a brick wall. But somewhere along the way, his cold and uncaring façade began to crack. You slowly worked your way up to meaningless small talk—and, later, casual conversation.

Truthfully, you really enjoy spending time with Bruce. But he’s rather unpredictable—sometimes he’ll push you away, and other times he’ll play along. You know that he has a lot of baggage—what with his childhood and his alter-ego. You’ve been trying to convince him that you care about him—that you’re not going to abandon him or villainize him—but he doesn’t ever seem to believe you. He always conducts himself with some semblance of suspicion and doubt; it almost seems like he’s waiting for you to wake up to reality and run away screaming.

Still, progress is progress—no matter how slow. You’re happy with how you’ve slowly bonded with him, and you can only hope that there’s more on the horizon for the both of you.

…You never consider the possibility that something could happen to make things worse—to destroy your progress and send you right back to the start.

“We need you for something.”

You’re brutally torn from your reverie, forced to slowly come back to yourself. You’re sitting in the living room, staring ahead at the blank wall. How long have you been sitting here? All you know is that it’s no longer light outside, and that Natasha is standing in front of you with a firm expression.

“I- what?” You stammer, still processing what’s happening. “Nat-”

“It’s important,” she says. You get to your feet before she can continue speaking. “Trust me.” You do trust her. Natasha isn’t one for over-exaggeration or dramatics; when she says something is important, she means it. And the grave expression on her face is only worrying you more. You follow after her as she walks down the hall and towards the elevators. The two of you step into the space and she presses a button, before the elevator slowly rises.

In hindsight, perhaps you should’ve been a bit more suspicious. Why would she be taking you to another floor in the Tower? Typically, when there’s a new development or an imminent threat, you’ll be directed to another location—either to combat the threat or to strategize. Furthermore, there’s a strained silence in the air between Natasha and you. Nat’s shoulders are drawn tight and she’s staring ahead pointedly, as if avoiding your eyes.

The elevator dings and you breathe an internal sigh of relief, hoping to get rid of this needless tension. But before you can begin to take a step, you’re being roughly shoved out of the elevator and into the hallway. It takes you several moments to get your bearings—at which point you recognize the telltale sounds of the doors behind you closing, and the elevator dropping back down to where you came. You stare at the closed doors in disbelief, before turning to look back down the hall. One of the recreational rooms is straight ahead, and you hear yelling.

Once you’re standing in the doorway, you’re able to place the inexplicable noises you were hearing. Bruce is in his Hulk form, green and raging as he throws anything within his grasp at the walls around him. You’re willing to bet Natasha brought you here to do something about this. Why she thinks you’re the best person to calm Bruce down, you’re not sure.

“Bruce,” you say slowly. Bruce promptly freezes, an exercise machine lifted over his head. He stares down at you; you stare up at him. He’s momentarily distracted by you. “It’s okay.” He’s silent. You hold your hands out at your sides in mock surrender. “I’m not here to hurt you,” you continue. “You’re safe.”

Silence. You take a slow breath. The machine he’s holding over his head drops a fraction of an inch.

“It’s okay, Bruce.” You repeat, pushing as much conviction into your voice as you can. Your effort seems to work, as his eyebrows furrow. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence as the two of you stare at each other. Then, his visage shifts and you’re suddenly looking at Bruce Banner—disheveled and exhausted.

“Are you alright-?” You’re compelled to ask. The scientist is back in human form, wearing nothing but a tattered pair of pants; bruises and scratches litter his skin; and there’s a distant expression on his face. He seems to snap out of his trance when he hears your voice.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bruce then spits. You immediately flinch at the unexpected anger. “Seriously, what the fuck are you doing here?” His gaze is flitting about the room quickly, before settling on you with fevered intensity. You’ve never seen Bruce look so irate before. He’s a remarkably composed man (although you suspect he bottles up anger and rage and lets it out in bursts as the Hulk). Indeed, this kind of fury is typical for the Hulk, but exceedingly rare for Bruce.

“I didn’t-” You choke out helplessly, glancing back at the hall and, by extension, the elevator. “They-” It’s inexplicably difficult for you to get the words out.

“That was our doing.” A voice confesses from behind you. You turn around to find Nat and Tony standing behind you. The two of them approach and come to a stop at your side.

Bruce’s gaze locks on them with fiery focus. He brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. His glasses are nowhere to be seen—he must’ve dropped them somewhere as he transformed. “I expected better from both of you.”

“Bruce-” Tony tries to say, an apologetic expression on his face.

“What on earth made you think that throwing them out as bait was a good idea?” Bruce interjects furiously, motioning towards you. “You could’ve gotten them seriously injured!” He exclaims. Tony has the good grace to look embarrassed; Nat is staring ahead with a flat expression and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Bruce, I’m fine-” You try to say, quickly growing uncomfortable with the tension settling in the air.

“I could’ve harmed you,” Bruce is quick to assert. “Easily.” His voice is cold.

“But you didn’t,” you maintain. He’s not giving himself enough credit. More troubling is the idea that he has faith in his own cruelty—that he only sees himself as capable of harming someone. You don’t know what else to say, don’t know what could possibly be said to repair the evident years of damage done to this man’s psyche. The entire world has treated him as a weapon at best and an uncontrollable, irredeemable monster at worst.

“That doesn’t matter,” Bruce says with unshakeable certainty. He retreats from the room, leaving you to stare after him in confusion and shock. You turn to face Natasha and Tony, who are both staring at the doorway with complex looks.

You want to tell them off, but the words that leave your lips are far different than you intend them to be. “Should I go after him?” You ask instead. Bruce is the primary concern right now—you can chew Tony and Nat out later. You’ve known him for a bit now, and have grown to interpret his expressions fairly easily. You’ve seen Bruce express a lot of emotions… but the look on his face just now is completely foreign to you.

“Probably,” Tony admits.

“I don’t think we should,” Natasha says, motioning towards Tony and herself. “He’s mad at us. And… rightfully so.” She exchanges a glance with Tony, whose lips are pressed in a thin line. It’s clear they didn’t give enough thought to their whole plan.

“You’ll be fine, though,” Tony says with unfounded conviction. Nat places a hand on your shoulder and grips it reassuringly. You take a deep breath and come to a decision, walking down the hall and towards the elevator doors.

Moments later, you’re walking out of the lift and down the dim hallway leading to Bruce’s bedroom. He’s entirely alone on this floor of the tower. You pause in front of his door for a few seconds, wondering if you should walk away. But you can’t. Instead, you knock on the door four times. “Bruce?” You ask. Despite the clear sturdiness of the door, he’s able to hear you.

“Go away.” Bruce responds. His voice is a little muffled, and you have to strain to hear him.

You’re hurt for the briefest of moments. Then you shelf the feeling and resolve yourself to tackling it later. “I’m coming in,” you announce, placing your hand against the scanner at the edge of the doorway. The scanner flashes green and the door slides open, revealing Bruce’s bedroom. You’ve never been here before. It’s modestly decorated, with mostly monotone shades. Nothing particularly strikes you, save for the giant desk in the corner of the room. Papers litter the entire surface of the desk, and a few are covered by Bruce’s arms.

The man doesn’t look up as you approach. “I don’t want to see you,” Bruce says. His back is turned and you’re unable to see his expression.

“I don’t care,” you respond, taking a few steps into the space until you’re a short (yet seemingly insurmountable) distance from Bruce. He’s sitting at his desk, rubbing his hands over his eyes roughly. It doesn’t take long for you to remember your guilt. “Bruce, I don’t want you to torture yourself over this.” Maybe you shouldn’t have interfered in the first place.

“I could’ve caused you irreversible harm,” Bruce says. It’s almost a practiced recitation at this point, and you have to wonder if he truly believes that—or if he’s just been conditioned by everyone around him to believe he is only capable of inflicting pain.

“You didn’t,” you maintain, for what feels like the thousandth time. Bruce is so caught up in the hypotheticals that he refuses to see the success right in front of him: the fact that he didn’t so much as lay a finger on you.

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Bruce says with a shake of his head. He pushes himself out of his chair and gets to his feet, turning around to face you. Your eyes widen as you notice the torn expression on his face, the dark circles under his eyes, and the determination written in every line of his form. “My eyes locked onto you and, for a split second, I envisioned harming you. Deliberately.” The confession clings to the air like a vice.

“But you didn’t act on that impulse,” you assert. “You suppressed it.”

“So?” Bruce argues. “I still had the urge. You should be disgusted, afraid-”

“I’m not afraid of you, Bruce,” you interrupt. The statement lingers heavily in the air between the two of you. For a long moment, there’s nothing but the faint hum you’ve grown to associate with the Tower itself.

“You should be,” Bruce then mutters. And suddenly he’s standing in front of you, staring at you with a dark gaze. His fists are clenched at his sides and you see his skin flicker with shades of green, before it returns to normal. The man maneuvers you to the side and shoves you, until you’re hitting the wall behind you. Bruce’s hands move up to your shirt collar and he clenches at it, his fingers almost spasming as he tightens his grip. You just stare at him. “I could ruin you.” He murmurs, so quietly that you have to strain to hear it.

You want to argue with him so badly, but that strategy hasn’t been working so far. For some reason, Bruce has convinced himself that he not only has the capacity to hurt you, but that he wants to. You know that can’t be true, but how can you convince him? If he thinks he can ruin you… “Then do it,” you challenge him. He meets your eyes once more and you stare back unflinchingly, trying to convey how much you trust him.

If you thought the tension was suffocating before, it’s practically ripping the breath from your lungs now. Everything around you seems to fade into obscurity. All you can see is Bruce; all you can feel is Bruce. His fingers twitch and his grip falls from your collar. For an awful moment, you think he’s going to walk away—turn his back on you as he has done so many times before. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans closer. If he’s trying to get you to back down, then it isn’t working.

At first, you want to think that Bruce is testing you. But the way he’s regarding you right now—with glittering desire in his eyes—makes you think otherwise. His hands move from the wall to your shoulders, back to the nape of your neck, until he gently tugs you forward. It’s hardly a strong pull, and you understand the choice he’s giving you.

But, you think fondly, there was never much of a choice. From the moment you locked eyes with him, you knew he would dominate your thoughts. And indeed, he has. You think about the hard-won look of approval in his eyes when you make an astute observation; the way he almost frantically looks across the battlefield, his posture instantly relaxing once he sees you; the contradictions written all over his skin; the rare smiles you felt privileged to see.

You lean forward and press your lips to his. Bruce is quick to reciprocate, his hands lingering at the nape of your neck before slipping down to your waist. You lock your arms around his shoulders, practically trapping him in your embrace. But from the strength of his grip, you can ascertain that the gesture is more than welcome.

Later, when you break apart, Bruce has a disbelieving expression on his face. He looks slightly dazed, as if suspicious of the reality he now finds himself in. You grasp his wrist gently.

“You can’t get rid of me, Bruce,” You murmur insistently, “...no matter how hard you try.”

He stares at you for another long moment. “And I have tried,” Bruce admits through a dry huff. You want to be offended by the comment, but you know it’s true. Bruce is stupidly self-sacrificing—he purposefully keeps his distance from people to protect them. But the reality of the situation is that people will come to harm regardless of his presence. “But you’re too stubborn.” That statement is spoken with a significant amount of fondness, and his hand comes up to cradle your cheek. You bring your hand up to rest on top of his.

“I’ll always be here, even when you don’t want me to be.” You promise. And maybe that promise isn’t yours to make, because one can never truly predict what will come next. But somehow, deep down, you know it to be true.

Bruce brings you close once more, an uncharacteristic note of boldness in the fluid movement. When you step back moments later, you find that he has a hint of a smile on his face. “I know,” Bruce says, the traces of apprehension on his face breaking and cracking to reveal a rare sight: unrestrained affection.

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the-prettiest-teardrop · 2 days

Text

Mike Schmidt HCs

Pairing- Mike Schmidt x Artist!Reader

Warnings- Spiders, nightmares, panic attacks, Mike worries he isn’t good enough, tooth rotting fluff.

A/N- Thank you guys so much for supporting me! I’ve posted so many headcanons, so sorry about that.

———

𖡎 The only reason he was able to stay awake during his shift was because he knew he had you to come home to.

𖡎 He would cuddle into your chest, humming in contentment when you played with his hair.

𖡎 Whenever he had the day off, you guys would order pizza and cuddle down on the couch to watch a movie with Abby.

𖡎 If he came in the room while you were sketching, he’d peek over your shoulder to see what you were doing.

𖡎 He loves watching you teach Abby how to draw, he thinks it’s sweet how close you two are.

𖡎 Begs for you to use him instead of pinterest references or whatever else you use.

𖡎 “Baby, I don’t understand why you are looking for photos of other people to draw when you could just draw me.”

𖡎 He actually gets worried if you don’t call him a pet name.

𖡎 “Mike? What? What happened to ‘baby’? Are you mad?”

𖡎 Comes up behind your, arms around your waists to whisper shyly in your ear.

𖡎 “D’you think you could teach me a few things, so I can connect with Abby?”

𖡎 You guys watch Coraline, The Corpse Bride, Nightmare Before Christmas, etc.

𖡎 Abby’s favorite movie is Coraline, even if it terrifies Mike.

𖡎 He’s a little worried, but calms down a bit when you tell him it’s your favorite movie.

𖡎 It can’t be bad for her if it’s your favorite, he can’t find anything wrong about you.

𖡎 You’re his savior, he practically worships you, and honestly, if he thought there was a god, he thinks it would be you.

𖡎 He doesn’t want to get up in the mornings, so you have to coax him out of bed with kisses and cuddles.

𖡎 This man will not shower without you, and that’s that.

𖡎 Totally will ask you if you took your meds before you leave the house, he doesn’t want you to have to go without them.

𖡎 He sleeps better with you there, when you hold him, he feels safe enough to get sleep.

𖡎 If he does have a nightmare though, you guys will go sit near a window and watch the stars until he’s calmed down enough to get back to sleep.

𖡎 And if you struggle with nightmares or get panic attacks at night, he’s getting you water and holding you until you’re okay.

𖡎 He never wants to see you upset.

𖡎 If you have a rough day at work, he puts on music after Abby is in bed and makes you slow dance in the kitchen with him.

𖡎 He secretly loves Rom-Coms, and makes you watch them with him, no matter how awful they are.

𖡎 Back with the spider headcannon, so beware.

𖡎 This man is terrified of spiders, but is also too scared to squish them and feels bad killing them, so he makes you take them outside.

𖡎 Whenever you two are walking somewhere together, he has one arm around your waist.

𖡎 All I can think about is forcing him to do face masks with you.

𖡎 He kinda hates it, but you have fun and that’s all that matters.

𖡎 Sometimes you have to remind him how good he’s doing, when he sees all the people he knew in high school getting married, getting fancy jobs, he feels like he’s not enough.

𖡎 “I just- you could have better.”

𖡎 It took a while to get him to be able to celebrate his accomplishments without feeling guilty.

𖡎 He doesn’t take you out on many dates, but does sweet things at home.

𖡎 Sometimes he’ll try his best to make cookies, or he’ll make you coffee in the mornings.

𖡎 He’s really just a sweet guy, who wants to make you happy at the end of the day.

𖡎 He actually gets worried if you don’t call him a pet name.

𖡎 “Mike? What? What happened to ‘baby’? Are you mad?”

𖡎 Comes up behind your, arms around your waists to whisper shyly in your ear.

𖡎 “D’you think you could teach me a few things, so I can connect with Abby?”

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt smut #mike fnaf #fnaf mike #fnaf movie

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char-lotta · 1 day

Text

After the End (part three/final part)

Pairing: Jake x MC

Warnings: smut 🔥🔥, light dom/subtones

Author notes: See at the end

(Part one, part two)

She woke up hearing quiet murmurs on her hair. She was up in the softest clouds, warm and content and felt her floating out of the dream. The arms around her tugged her nearly on top of the strong and muscular body. Familiar smell was present, and she just knew that she was in a safe place, and where she belonged. She felt the sun warming her skin from the window and she could hear the birds sing in the forest.

It took a while to understand the words that were told her by a quiet and calm tone.

“I don’t know how I am going to forgive myself for wanting to see you like this every day.”

Her hair was gently brushed asides from front of her eyes, she felt his breath in her scalp. She breathed evenly and kept them closed.

“How can I even want to condemn you to the life of mine, where there isn’t a safe place for us”, the voice whispered. “How could I even dare to ask you to give up everything and everyone you have for someone like me. You don’t deserve to be shackled into me like that.”

She felt coldness creeping up in her back and felt the urge to swallow. She knew that she was supposed to make him aware of that she was being awake, but Jake was so rarely vulnerable and open with her that she needed to hear more. Even though every word that he said made her afraid, so afraid that he would leave her.

“It would never be safe enough for you”, Jake hushed and touched her hair again. “And still, I don’t want to give you up, when I have finally had you.”

She wouldn’t give up on him. Never, the voice echoed in her head from her thought so loud and demanding, that she wouldn’t be surprised if Jake could hear it. They have done so much, gone through hell and back and they finally had succeeded on the task that had originally brought them together and she would not give up on the final reward.

She knew that Jake was protective of her, and her safety was his first prioritize. He had showed it to her via so many actions on her behalf and that would probably never change. His fears were reasonable and when she still didn’t know what made his pursuers go after him and what they could actually do, she knew that together they were stronger. Even the thought of separating hurt so much, that she instinctively squeezed her eyes tighter shut. The hand stroking her head stopped.

He knew that she was awake, and they both lied still and quiet for a while. Her heart pounded on her chest, reminding her that it was a fragile thing and if everything went awry, it would break, and the consequences would be catastrophic. She let the air escape from her mouth and told her heart that she would do anything on her power to prevent it happening.

She allowed her eyes to open and found Jake looking at her back with so bright green eyes, that she thought for a second that she could see her own reflection from them. Her lips curled up to a small smile which seemed to catch on the man staring on her.

“I should have known that nothing escapes you”, he said and caressed her cheek. His eyes follower his fingers that were slowly moving on her face. He looked thoughtful.

“Well, I did tell you that my dad was a famous detective, you know”, she responded with careful small laugh. She didn’t know what to say, the atmosphere suddenly felt quite heavy and loaded.

“Yes, you did”, he said, and his eyes reverted back to her gaze. His hand moved to behind to her head, making circles with his fingers around the nape of her neck.

“I didn’t like what I heard”, she confessed with a small voice. “Except the part where you want to see me every day. I would very much like it to happen. See, I am also looking forward to seeing you every day.”

He didn’t reply, but his gaze got more intense, but there also appeared a hint of sadness. He sighed deeply, and the by the face that he had, she knew that he had plans that she would have to fight for to be part of.

“I told you yesterday” she reminded sternly, “don’t you dare to leave me.”

“You don’t know how it is”, he said with a muffled voice. “How it is when you have to constantly be on the run and have to watch behind your shoulder all the time. How you cannot give your name to anybody or have a normal life.” His voice was starting to get more anxious, and words came out more rapidly.

“You don’t get to decide for me!” she said furiously and got up in the bed. She was sitting there, eyes with a fire on them, mouth slightly ajar and the morning sun shined its light behind her making her look like she was made of gold. She didn’t know that, but she was the most beautiful thing the man in her bed had ever seen. He just looked at her, stunned, mouth left open for the words that he couldn’t form.

“I am capable of doing my own decisions!” she pointed a finger at him. “And I do get to decide if I want to give up my life as I know it now!”

His eyes darkened and his lips formed a thin line, getting out of the daze before. His whole posture changed, and he was tense, getting ready for one of their almost-famous battles now. There were no winners in those, but this conversation needed to be done with. They had circled the topic the day before, but so much had been going on then, so they had avoided it consciously.

“You sure seem to think like it”, he spat. “I told you not to come for Duskwood, I asked you to stay safe! But you didn’t listen, and you even committed a crime when trying to get me”, he growled and shook his head viciously as he said it. “Yes, love, interfering FBI investigations is a federal crime”, she was told when surprise crept on her face, betraying her by making a visible the fact that she had not thought about it.

“Well – “, she started and tried to come up with something that would make the situation look like less severe. “That was one of my independently made decision then!”

Oh, that went poorly, and she did see by Jake’s face that it didn’t succeed on his end either.

“Congratulations”, he said grimly, almost mockingly way, “that was the shittiest decision in your life then, since it could land you to the jail”.

Oh, that hurt a lot. She bit her lip and felt anger rise in her, begging to be spilled out with venomous words. “Shittiest decision?” she asked so calmly, that they could practically hear the upcoming thunderstorm arriving. She spotted a tiny sight of worry in his face. “Shittiest decision? Are you fucking serious? Was it shittiest decision in my life to fuck you last night then? Would you call us finally being together as ‘shittiest decision’ then? Fuck you!” She erupted and jumped out of bed.

“You don’t get to say that”, she trembled with her whole body shaking with anger. “You don’t get to say it after all the things I had to do to find you! After all the thing I’ve been through!”

She pushed her long hair from her front and shot daggers with her eyes towards the man, who’s emotions mirrored her own. She stood there without clothes but didn’t bother to cover herself up with her hands or the sheet.

“You know I didn’t mean that like that!” Jake shouted and was now standing too. “The last night was everything to me! I finally got to touch you in person. All I ever have wanted for months came true – “, his words trembled, and he lowered his voice, “when I saw you, got to kiss you and be inside of you. To see in my own eyes when you came was better than any fantasy I’ve had about you. To hear in my own ears, you gasping my name when I pushed in you. It was so, so much better than I had even dared to imagine.” The last part was said very softly, and her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t bare his intensive gaze and looked away.

“Then why, why would you give me away then?” she asked in small voice and felt like crying. Maybe she did cry, she didn’t know. He looked like she had slapped him.

“I’m never giving you away”, he told her overwhelmed when he finally found the words. “I said that I am never going to let them capture me, because it would separate me from you. That still stands.”

“I don’t understand. You say this, and you say that, and I am still here arguing with you to take me with you when you go.”

“It simply isn’t safe enough. I will never forgive myself if something happens to you because of me”, he confessed and approached her in the room cautiously. She didn’t move but didn’t stop him either.

“Well, I don’t give a fuck about that!” she felt familiar fury again. “What do you suggest then? Texting and sexting and you can’t even a call me because you fear that they’re monitoring my phone?”

“We could see each other’s every now and then”, he suggested but even he knew that he didn’t sound convincing. “They know who you are, and they know that you’re important to me. So, they will be watching you, especially now when they didn’t capture me in the mines. They’re probably looking for you right now, too, maybe in couple of months… -”.

“I will not agree with these terms and conditions, sorry, love”, she said sarcastically, interrupting his sentence. “You’ve said it yourself; they’re already looking for me, so I am already in need to hide. But fine, I won’t beg. If you don’t want me, then I will not beg. I’ll hide from them on my own.”

“MC…”, he rasped, and she lifted up her gaze from the floor. He was standing right in front of her. The evergreen eyes met hers and she was sure, that no one, ever, had looked her with a such a passion and intensity. She saw how he looked at her, really looked at her. His gaze left her eyes and wandered lower her body, memorizing everything. He looked at her collarbones, noted the small mole in the left side of her neck. Saw her breasts, where the right one was slightly bigger than the left one and he smiled a wickedly. Gaze scanned her abdomen, thighs and landed the area between them. She shivered, but not from the cold. She felt his eyes burning through her skin and became first time aware that she was naked. Something clenched in her abdomen, reminding her about the last night. The air tickled her nipples, making them hard. Or maybe it was the memory of Jake’s mouth around them.

“There will be no time or place, where I do not want you”, he said, voice so low and… dangerous?

“I told you that you don’t get to decide. Don’t you realize that I have already decided – “, she didn’t recognize her voice, it was so husky and low. “Because I chose you. I chose you and will choose you every time the option comes.”

The atmosphere in the room which was just minutes ago filled with tenseness and exasperation, had shifted for something hot, moist and anticipating. She could see the erection Jake had and knew, that the actual battle was only starting. She gulped and stared him daringly.

“But you don’t want me to come? Alright then”, she said with a menace. “I supposed that I have to get used to do this by myself then.”

As she spoke, she lifted her right hand to her breast and flickered her nipple gently. She used her other hand to caress her neck, drawing strokes from her ear to the collarbone. “I would have to imagine your lips here, sucking and biting”, she continued. “Biting so hard, that it would leave marks on the skin.” She could saw in Jake's eyes averting to the certain area in her neck. She smiled. “That is indeed my favorite spot.”

She pinched and tugged her nipple and small sigh escaped from her lips. “I would miss terribly your mouth on here too, you know. I really did love the thing you did with your tongue; I could feel it in my cunt too”, she said, and they both saw the flash from last night showing his lips latched on her breast. Even the memory did enough for her, and she sighed with a tremble again. Jake didn’t say anything but watched her every movement with preciseness, pupils dark and dilated. She brought both hands to her breasts and caressed the swell below the nipples. “But darling, you didn’t find out yet, how sensitive this can be. But I am fair and telling you that now.”

She started to feel moistness between her legs and her cunt ached painfully, waiting to be touched. But she didn’t want to give in just yet, she did want to show Jake what he was going to miss. Determined, she pushed Jake to the bed. He just sat there and still didn’t say a word, but in his gaze, everything was said. Feeling victorious, she straddled his legs and gently pushed him down to the bed.

“Remember, this was your idea”, she said triumphantly, “so you’re not allowed to participate, only look.”

She saw him open his mouth to object, but then changed his mind. He smirked and nodded and gestured her to continue. She didn’t like the look on his face which promised retribution, but she started this and was surely going to finish it.

“We never talked about this before, but I do read a lot. That has given me the ability to imagine things very… vividly”, she told him. “If I close my eyes, I can practically see you touching me here”, she said and moved her hand to her thigh and her fingers danced in her skin. “And here”, she brushed her lower back. “And here”, she said and finally touched her cunt. The touch caused her to moan involuntary and they both looked surprised how quickly she was so aroused. She felt her dripping to his legs and by the looks in his face, he felt it too. Jake grabbed the sheet below them but never let his gaze escape. His breathing seemed heavier and troubled and that made her smirk in turn.

“I usually need to work out myself a bit more to get it this good, but with you in my mind, it seems to be more… effective”. She circled her clit slowly and didn’t bother to try suppressing her moans. She wanted him to hear them all. Her other hand was kneading her breasts and her legs started quivering a bit.

“I think I’d use the memory of last night in first weeks”, she said dreamily, still touching her clit, “but then I would probably start thinking about all the times we would miss. How good would it be to be fucked by you from the behind?”

She brought her hand from the breast down and very slowly brought one finger to her entrance. Jake’s eyes were glued to the sight and when she inserted it very slowly and moaned loudly, he let out breath with such a force that she felt it on her cleavage. She tutted at him.

“Since I am in such a mood for confessions, I’d like to reveal you that I do like rough sex quite a lot. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes slow love making is the greatest thing ever, but what really gets me wet is when I’m tied up and my hair is pulled when I’m getting pounded, she emphasized the last part with meaningful wink to Jake.

“MC…” Jake said with a struggle and his breathing was uneven. The fists grabbing the sheet were white as the color of it. “This is extortion.”

“All is fair in love and war, my dear”, she said slyly and inserted a second finger in her. The effect was magnificent, and she gasped. “I would have to think my fingers for yours to come though. Maybe if I say your name during this, it might be helpful.”

She added the third finger and felt so filled. She pumped her fingers inside for couple of times, rubbed her clit faster and her moans echoed in the room. “Oh, Jake”, she whispered and looked at his eyes. He looked like in pain, the emotions in his face were raw but she didn’t have time to inspect them more thoroughly, when he grabbed her hands and pulled him closer. The grind with their sexes made them both moan simultaneously.

“You are going to be the death of me”, he repeated his sentence from night before with his teeth clenching together. “But you were wrong in at least one thing today”, he said with warning in his tone. “You are going to beg me.”

She didn’t have time to register his words properly when he grabbed her hips and pushed her off him. She was laying on her backside and had barely a moment to see his face, which promised that he was up for revenge. Almost fear splashed through her, but then he spread her legs, and his mouth was on her. She buckled so hard that it almost hurt, but he held her still, when his ravenous mouth explored her clit.

“Jake!” she gasped, this time without aid of imagination and she could feel his hot breath on her cunt.

“Be a good girl and I will reward you”, he instructed her, “but when you’re bad... Well let’s just say that you’re going to find out.” The sentence was filled with a promise that she was going to pay for what she did. She gulped.

His mouth was relentless and unforgivable. He lapped his clit with her mouth, sucked it and his teeth grazed it slightly. She felt orgasm building in her, starting to rise to the surface. Her legs started trembling and her moans filled the room.

“Liked to imagine my fingers then? Well, here they are”, he pushed without warning three fingers in her and she buckled again, his fingers were much longer and bigger than hers. “I will use them on you when ever you need them. Or simply, I want to.”

She couldn’t hear him anymore, the only thing she was aware of was the orgasm arriving with every intent of releasing her. She squirmed and buckled and gasped, and when she was about to arrive on her destination, she felt his fingers and mouth withdrawing her suddenly. She pulled up in her elbows and glared at him.

“What the fuck was that for?”

He laughed and squeezed her breast. “I told you”, he simply said and climbed on top of her. “You are going to beg.”

“Never”, she replied with annoyance. She had won when Jake couldn’t resist on touching her, she would win this round too. Her clit was painfully throbbing now, trying to negotiate with her for a release, but she ignored it.

“You are the most stubborn woman that I have ever encountered”, he said, still laughing. She felt his erection pressing on her thighs and wriggled herself lower. Jake rubbed himself on her and her breath forgot how to inhale and exhale. He grabbed her thigh to make a room and got himself between her legs. She felt his tip on her entrance and expected him to slowly sink in, but he thrusted inside so hard that she winced with surprise. The noise of hers seemed to slightly slow him down and he looked at her a bit concerned.

“Fuck me”, she released him from his concerns with commanding tone.

“As you wish”, he replied with two finger salute and slammed in her again. She let out small whimper of pleasure and with that as an affirmation, Jake thrusted her again and again and her whimpers got louder with each push. He brought his hand to her clit simultaneously and gave it a proper rub. She touched her breasts when Jake abruptly took her hands and brought them up below her head, keeping them on their place by holding her wrists.

“Unfortunately, this is forbidden”, he told her sternly, “roles are reversed, and you’re not allowed to touch yourself either.” He brought his lips to her breast and circled his tongue on her nipple and sucked it quite forcefully. He shifted his mouth on her neck, punishing the spot of her neck with nipping the area with his teeth. His thrusts in her were forceful and deep. Just when she thought it couldn’t be any better, he inside of her, wrists bounded, fingers on her clit and his mouth on her neck, he bit the spot hard and sucked. Something guttural and primal noise erupted from her voice chords and her breathing got faster and she was so close -.

And it all stopped, except his mouth on her neck. He brought his lips to hers and kissed her first time today. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, soothing and calming and her breathing slowed down. Still, the painful ache between her legs was stronger than ever and she cried to between his lips. The noise of hers made the kiss deeper and more demanding, requiring her to give in. She tried to move her hips when he was still inside of hers, but he pulled out before she could have it.

“Get on your knees and elbows”, he whispered to her ear, and she swallowed. She did not know how much more she could take it, but at this point she wanted to see this through. She could beg, it wasn’t about the battle anymore, but something told her that it was better this way. They were sweaty, tangled mess and both were shivering with need, but they both had the desire to continue their exploration on each other’s bodies.

She got into the position asked and realized that this was exactly the situation she had imagined to Jake. He knew it too but took his time to watch her. The blush crept on her face when she realized what he was doing, but he quickly shot the embarrassment she had down with “I don’t think I have ever been this aroused before” and “you’re so fucking hot”. Then he inserted his finger in her, pumped couple of times and when she moaned, he replaced his finger with himself and slided in. The position was allowing him to go deeper, and she felt so, so full. Jake seemed to have trouble of composing himself too and he groaned deeply when she moved herself onto him.

They found a rhythm which was arduous, forceful and just perfect. The room was filled with noises of their skin making contact within each other’s. His hands gripped her hips and gained more force to the pushes and she felt like exploding apart any minute now. All coherent things were lost and all she could do was mewl and cry for pleasure. Jake didn’t seem to be any more immune to this, and was muttering “so, so good”, “perfect for me” and “I’m never letting you go”.

He brought his hand to her clit once again and swirled her fingers around it and she cried out so loud that it was probably heard by all away to the Duskwood.

“Jake… - “She managed to say with panting breath and her voice was raspy and spent, desperate. She was going to beg, she was going to bend his will, but it didn’t matter, since she was going to die if she wasn’t allowed to come.

“No, love”, he abruptly ended his pounding, and she was ready to cry for disappointment and hurt and need. He turned her to her backside and pulled her towards the side of the bed, sliding inside of her immediately. He kissed her with such a passion and cradled her face with his hands. “Don’t beg. You don’t have to ever beg me for anything. I am always going to let you have what you need. I am sorry.” Her eyes watered and her poor, poor heart which had been really through a limbo for a couple of days was once again, exploding. But it was love, pure love what put her most important organ to the proper test, and they would survive it. He was slowly pushing his way in again and his thumb swirled on her nub. The long-awaited release was sparkling like a firework in her body, just seconds away.

“I love you”, she breathed the words out. “Please.”

“Come with me”, he replied within the same desperation in his voice that she had on her own, and she nodded. Their bodies were shaking, their eyes had the same gaze which was so full of adornment, lust, love and admiration, their breaths were spent, and nothing existed outside of this moment.

Jake lifted his thigh, and she adjusted her heel behind his back, allowing him to slide in deeper. The lust haze was ignited more by fastening the pace of the thrusts and they started to get more erratic, the hand on her clit more pressured and faster on its pace. She grabbed his neck and brought his face closer to hers and kissed him.

The world crashed, everything went white and all she could feel was pleasure, pleasure, pleasure. She didn’t hear her scream for him, she didn’t feel her cunt clinching on tight around him or felt her nails gripping deep in his shoulder blades, or him praising her during his orgasm. She had never in her life came so hard and everything stopped when she ascended and ascended and ascended. She was up in the milky way and at the same time she was riding at the highest wave with full speed.

When she finally came down, Jake was on top of him, out of breath and holding her tightly. They looked in each other and she snaked her hand in his hair. No words were needed now, they just smiled with satisfaction. The exhaustion sucked her in to the black hole and she didn’t realize that she had closed her eyes. She did not wake up, when Jake pulled her in top of his chest and covered her with the sheet.

***

When she woke up couple hours later, she knew instantly what had woken her up. She could hear him whispering again somewhere above her ear, while curling her hair on his finger.

“Most infuriating and insufferable with her stubbornness, that’s what you are.”

She smiled and responded; “Still, you love me.”

“Most reckless and almost suicidal wildcat.” He sounded annoyed now. She opened her eyes and found him looking at her again.

“Still, you love me.”

“I suspect that this is not going to be the last disagreement about this.”

“I am alright with that, if every argument ends like the last one.” He hummed an agreement to that and patted her butt.

“I still don’t know why you chose me”, he confessed. “I have nothing but uncertainty to offer.”

“That, my love, is because I love you.” She lifted her head from the pillow and leaned in her arm.

“So, this comes after the end”, he said thoughtfully.

“What comes?”

“I get to spend every day with you.”

“Yes.”

He kissed her.

**********

A/N: Phew! I did it! I hope that this was the satisfactory ending to this story. It has been two years since I published anything and I am a bit rusty with my writings. I still hope that you enjoyed my writing as much I loved to write it!

I'd love to hear what did you think about this!

Ps. Where's my different sized boobs-gang? 🤝

#duskwood #everbyte duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #jake x mc #duskwood everbyte #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood game #duskwood mc #duskwood every #moonvale everbyte #moonvale #duskwood fanfic

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eastwindmlk · 2 days

Text

Welp, this turned into a @jilymicro-oops! Not that we mind those!

Prompt: Touched, March 11. Word count: 1337 Content Warning: Negative self speech, a little angsty I guess.

The graceful swish of the A at the top of her Transfiguration essay seemed to laugh at Lily from where it lay among her many notes, scattering the library table she’d claimed for herself.

She had hoped to use the despicable grade as motivation to finish the extra credit work she had practically begged Professor McGonagall for. The professor had looked at her with concern but riffled through her desk for a moment before producing another essay for her to do. “You are under a lot of pressure. There is no need to worry about one A. Everyone misses one everyone once in a while.”

Her impulses had got the better of her then, and Lily had snapped back. “Everyone, really?” She bit her tongue before she mentioned the two people that she was certain never got a grade as pathetic as an A. Her jaw clenched to keep the flood of words from rolling off her tongue.

She was tired. Tired of always feeling like she had something to prove. Tired of the news that flashed before her eyes whenever she tried to sleep. Tired of the shudder that ran down her spine when she caught some of her fellow students looking at her with disgust. Of it happening more and more often.

She almost longed for a time when the word mudblood would phase her. Where it elicited more than just a tired sigh.

It wasn’t like it did not bother him anymore, but it no longer stung. Rather, is stuck to her like pitch. Making her feel dirty, stuck somehow. Like a bird trapped in an oil spill.

Her spiral of thoughts was interrupted by the strong gasp of her head of house. Her hands, though frail looking, were soft and capable, a surprising amount of strength still lingering in the ageing bones.

Minerva McGonagall offered her a parchment with questions for her to research and answer. The look on her face was reluctant. “Comparison is the thief of joy, Miss Evans,” she said with a warm smile she reserved for special occasions.

The words still echoed in her head, and she wished she’d had scoffed at them then. They always felt so disingenuous when there were things like class rankings to be considered. But she did not want to fight with the professor, not when the heat was already building behind her eyes, the threat of tears so much worse than seeming indignant or ungrateful.

Lily had pushed down these feelings as best she could, being snappy and short with people over dinner. The voice in the back of her head, the one that sounded an awful lot like Petunia, kept up a constant string of doubts and insults.

You’re useless. Can’t even do this right. Maybe they’re right about you, just pretending to belong.

Words that got louder and louder and louder every time she looked at the glaring A.

Worthless freak.

It was now, in the quiet of the library, that Lily finally allowed the mounting sadness that she’d battled from the moment she’d talked to Professor McGonagall to overwhelm her. Quiet sobs shook her shoulder, the corners of her lips down-turned like a Greek tragedy mask.

She folded her arms over her stomach protectively, rocking forward with the sheer force of her bereavement. All the while, that little voice still nagging her.

You’re crying over this? Really? Don’t you have actual problems? People are dying, you know? You’ve always been selfish like that.

Lily sat and shook quietly, her jaw clenched tight enough to make her ears ring and drown the world around her.

Maybe that was why she did not hear the footsteps coming closer. Not noticing that someone had come close enough to touch her when a hand landed on her shoulder. The sudden weight made her jolt, frantically wiping at her tear-stained cheeks.

She quickly tucked the failed paper under her stack of books, blinking furiously in the hopes of stopping the flow of tears. She did not want to look as pathetic as she felt, as the voice told her she was.

“You alright, Evans?”

Lily almost laughed at the cruel fate of James Potter being the one to find her in this remote corner, crying to herself. Just as she started to like him, too. The normal flutter his soft tone conjured in her stomach seemed to twist itself around like it wanted to wring out the rest of the tears.

Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, she nodded, not turning around to look at James. “Perfectly peachy. Thank you, Potter,” she lied, her voice strained.

She did not need to turn around to know his shoulders sagged. She did not want to see the disappointed look on his face. Barely able to bear the thought of having someone else’s disappointment weighing down on her already crushed mood.

Lily flipped open one of the many books she’d compiled on her topic, pretending to get on with things in the hopes he would just move on. Why would he care, after all? He was only nice to her because they were supposed to work together.

At least, that is what her inner Petunia told her. A sentiment she would usually fight. When she wasn’t already fighting, the weight of all the expectations she placed on herself collapsed in on her.

Her eyes lifted from the page at the sound of wood scraping against stone, a chair being pulled back. “What are you doing, Potter?” She could not summon the usual bite, though, nor the flirty quips that had permeated their conversations as of late.

“I am catching up on potions,” he replied simply, dumping half the contents of his bag onto the table.

The messiness irked Lily. She reached out to place a chocolate frog card, which had slipped onto her notes, back on his side of the table. When she was about to let go, his hand met hers, a not-so-subtle attempt to touch her.

James’ hand was warm and surprisingly soft, his thumb trailing along the side of her hand. The small gesture sparked something in her chest. A glow that she usually only associated with the people she held closest.

That had never been him, though. James had always been in her orbit. He had been nice. But there were degrees of separation. Apprehension and walls that kept his warmth at arm’s length. Lily wasn’t sure when that had changed.

“Look, James, I am touched that you want to… Help?” she swallowed, hoping that her voice would sound less thick with tears after. “I-” she started to say when he cut her off.

“Don’t. People only say that before a but. You don’t need to push me away, Lils. I am not here to check on you.”

Lies. “Then why are you here?” She watched as he pulled up his shoulder nonchalantly and motioned to the book in front of him. Right, potions. She had to admit, though, that the casualness of his motion was soothing somehow. Like the restless ocean in her was learning from his calm waves.

“I didn’t know we had homework,” Lily admitted sheepishly, leaning a little closer to look at what section he was working on. Eyebrows drew together in confusion when she noticed a chapter they’d covered nearly a month ago. “Personal reasons?”

James chuckled, the shake of his head causing his glasses to slip down even further and now balanced precariously on the tip of his nose. “I might not have handed in this particular essay. Sluggy finally caught on.”

She watched as his hand carded through his hair and could not help but roll her eyes at the motion, the smallest of smiles tugging at her lips. “You’ll be fine. Valerian Root is pretty straightforward,” she offered, turning back to her own assignment.

Lily paused for a moment, massaging her lower lip between her teeth before offering. “If you need help, I’m here.”

There was a pause, the silence between them blooming with promise.

“Likewise.”

#jily #james potter #lily evans #jple #jily fic #jily fanfiction #jily micro oops

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