#I know how to ask for help when I need it stop fucking taking tasks away from me because you think I don't understand what I'm doing
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punishment - opposites attract universe
words - 3.9k
genre - smut
warnings - fem!reader restraints, riding, guidance, cumming in underwear, the usual nicknames (dove, darling, lamb, good girl, etc), nipple play (m!receiving) insecurity, comfort sex, creampie, clit play, i think thats it but please tell me if otherwise!!!
“You can tie it tighter than that, dove,” Hongjoong sighs, sounding almost disappointed as you try your hardest to pin his wrists to the headboard. A part of you wants to look behind you to where Seonghwa sits comfortably in a nearby armchair, but even with your most pathetic pleas, you doubt he’d be willing to step in and help. This is your punishment after all. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. “Especially if you're going to use this flimsy stuff; I like it to bite a little.”
He thrusts his rigid cock up against your bare core as he says the word bite, the pearlescent liquid that spills from the tip smearing messily against your clit. You bite your lip to withhold the moan, but it doesn't matter; Hongjoong can read the pleasure on your face loud and clear anyway. It's in the way your eyes flutter closed for just a second or two, brows furrowing and forehead wrinkling. He chuckles teasingly, taunting you with the fact that even though you're the one tying him down, he still has the power.
“What, did that feel good, dove?” he asks, a smirk evident in his tone. You don't respond, unsure as to whether or not you’d be able to keep yourself from breaking down and begging to switch places with the man. Instead, you simply huff out a breath and open your eyes, ready to get back to the task at hand. This won’t stop until you make him cum, and devils below you need this to stop.
You weren't made for this. You're a taker, not a giver; built to lie there prettily and moan and cum until your mommy and daddy are satiated. How you long for your lovers to tug at you until you're lay how they want, for Seonghwa to pin you to his chest as Hongjoong buries himself in your pussy, for Hongjoong to whisper sweet nothings whilst Seonghwa fucks Hongjoong’s load back into your weeping hole. Maybe you should’ve thought about that before giving Yeosang that blowjob in the dining room.
Maybe you should’ve tried harder to convince San not to say a word.
Seonghwa tuts behind you, returning your mind to the task at hand. The pretty pink ribbons won't tie themselves around Hongjoong’s wrists and you know that. It doesn't stop you from letting out a pathetic whine though. “Don’t start with me, Lamb,” he purrs dangerously, “you put yourself in this position, not me,” he takes a sip of his red wine, smacking his lips before swallowing it down. You can't see him but you just know that the red stain he’d bound to wear upon his lips must look immaculate. Demons, how you want to be in Hongjoong’s position right now. “It's hardly my fault you think you’re too good to obey instructions. Now hop to it, Darling; the sooner you do what you're told, the sooner this will all end.”
He’s right, you admit to yourself as your fingers begin to work on the knots again. Just make Hongjoong cum and this will all be over.
You tug on the knot to tighten it, sparing a glance towards Hongjoongs expression every now and then to try and gauge it correctly. It doesn't go unnoticed by him, the man’s smirk growing with every passing look in his direction. It's the same look he gives you when you're writhing beneath him, whining out ‘daddy’ as you beg for more. He’s in charge then, just as he's in charge now. He might be the one getting tied up, but he certainly isn't the one who's going to be crying before the night is over. What’s a punishment without a few tears here and there?
“Stop looking at me and focus on the knot,” he says, his tone cocky and annoying, “you’re big and brave enough to play with your pet without permission but you have to have reassurance when you're tying a pretty little bow? Where has all that boldness gone, Dove?”
Being bold is the last thing on your mind right now. Tie the knot, make Hongjoong cum, get pampered for being good and taking your punishment well; that's all you care about right now. You can be a brat another day, at this exact moment in time, you just need to be good. You give the knot one last sharp tug before deciding that's enough. You finish it off with a bow before slipping a finger beneath it to test the tightness. It's what Seonghwa always does when he dresses you up in pretty bows purely for the purpose of gazing upon you like you're a work of art. It only feels right to give Hongjoong the same treatment.
He gives you a pleased hum, his wicked smile morphing into something much softer for just a moment or two. Had you blinked, you would've perhaps missed it. You’re glad you didn't.
“Bold isn't what I would call what our precious Darling did, Mi Amor,” Seonghwa says. The chair creeks, the sound of Seonghwa standing echoing around the room. Your breath hitches in anticipation as the familiar click, click, click of his healed pumps grows louder and louder. You feel his breath brush against your bare skin as he leans down, “Keeping your escapades a secret is hardly something a bold individual would do, now is it Lamb?” His saccharine voice sticks to your brain like melted candy. Gone is his usual kind sweetness, replaced with something artificial and too good to be true. It's a stark contrast to the barely-there kiss he presses to your cheek–a reminder that you’re still their good girl, even if they are being a little mean.
“No, mommy,” you whimper out just as he pulls his face away from yours. There's a chuckle, more akin to his regular cadence than you expected. It's soft and buttery and warm, everything you know Seonghwa to be outside of punishments. You melt as he dives in for another kiss, nuzzling his nose against your temple in a way that has you forgetting that you're even in trouble in the first place.
“Good girl,” he whispers into your skin, cushiony lips tickling your skin before pulling away once more, this time for good, “It's a shame you only start behaving when you have to face the consequences of misbehaving, though. You have to be made to squirm a little before you decide to listen, hm?” a hand trails its way up your spine making you shudder. The way you grind down on Hongjoong is unintentional, but it still fetches a deep guttural grunt from his lips. It stops your heart in place, the sound so beautiful that you think it makes you fall in love with him all over again. It's nothing new; each day you find something like that. Something that makes your heart speed up in your chest just like it did when you lay eyes on them for the very first time.
You want to do it again, but Seonghwa’s fingers move up to the back of your head and lace themselves in your hair. You brace yourself for the tug that’s bound to come any second now. It still makes you wince when he tightens his fist.
“Now behave for me, won't you? Ride your daddy until he fills you up nice and full of cum, Lamb,” the hand that isn't in your hair reaches over your shoulder and dives down until it's resting atop your tummy. He drums his fingers against the plush flesh before letting them come to a standstill just below your navel. “It shouldn’t be so hard since you obviously know best. You’re so independent, right? You can do this without our help.” And just like that his touch is gone and he steps away. You hear him retreat back to his chair, the creak of the old leather letting you know when he’s sunk back down onto it.
It feels bizarrely lonely, in a way. Sitting there with no soft touches from either of your lovers, having to move and think for yourself. There's no warm hand to hold your waist and guide you, no whispers in your ear to send your overactive brain silent. You're cold and lonely and devils you're thinking way too much. You want it to stop, so with a shaky breath, you use Hongjoong’s chest to stabilise yourself as you push your hips up. With one hand you line yourself up with his cock and sit, moaning as he stretches you out. It's a little painful; they normally spend an age prepping you before even thinking about using their cocks. Perhaps they thought you and Yeosang had gone further than a simple blowjob. Maybe they didn't realise you hadn't already been opened up.
“So tight, darling,” Hongjoong muses, his face screwing up in pleasure as he bottoms out, completely sheathed within your walls. You do what you assume is the right thing and tense around him; he gives you a moan and you can't help but let it inflate your ego just a touch. It might be easier than you assumed to make him cum. Maybe you’ll be in his arms before you even know it! “But I don't recall you being asked to just warm me up. Ride me, pretty girl. Make me cum inside your tight fucking cunt, hm?”
You almost whimper at his instructions. Despite your newfound belief in yourself, you still don't want to be in this position. Your cunt might be stuffed full but you still feel weirdly empty. With a sigh, you remind yourself that the quicker you make him cum, the quicker you get taken care of. You brace your hands on his chest and grind your hips against his. He gives you a contented groan, eyes fluttering closed with pleasure.
You can do this; you can get what you want.
You continue to move your hips back and forth, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as the pain slowly turns into pleasure. It's not hard to find a careful rhythm but it certainly is to maintain it. The moment his tip grinds up against that divine spot within you, you stutter, your movements almost lagging for a moment or two before the man beneath you bucks his hips up into yours. It serves as a reminder of your task, and you return to your prior pace once more.
But it's not enough. Hongjoong is moaning and sighing but the longer you continue the more you become aware that he is no closer to orgasm than he was when you started riding him. In fact, that initial motion, the first grind of your hips; that's probably when he felt it most, the urge to spill his seed inside of your tight hole. You can move as much as you want, change your pace as often as you feel necessary, but nothing is going to alter the fact that you simply cannot make him cum.
It's a harsh reality to face, and you can’t help but let it go to your head. You feel almost worthless, although that's probably too harsh of a word. Useless may be more suited to the emotions rushing through your body. If you can't make Hongjoong cum then what? You don't cook or clean, or provide any income. You're not as business-minded as Hongjoong and you don't have the tender touch that Seonghwa gives to all his plants. You’ve never been skilled at following instructions and caring for people like San is and you can hardly fill Yeosang’s shoes when it comes to being, well, Yeosang. What exactly are you good for?
It's almost laughable, the idea that something so small could set off a whirlwind of insecurity in your mind. You can't make your lover cum by yourself, so what? It's not like you've never made him cum, right? You made him cum just this morning… You try and hone in on that, but it doesn't quite work. If you make him cum by lying there and looking pretty, are you really making him cum at all? Or is he making himself cum using your body…
Your hips come to a standstill, your pelvis sinking down until all your weight rests on Hongjoong’s. “I can't make you cum,” you state simply, “I'm trying so hard and I-” your voice cracks and you have to stop to suck in a deep breath. One that you hope will clear the lump in your throat. It doesn't, and you can't swallow it down; you squeeze your eyes shut and the dam just… breaks. “I can't make you cum, Hongjoong.”
You miss the way he winces at the sound of his own name. It's something so small but it feels so wrong to hear it when his cock is buried deep within you. Perhaps it was the sound of the blood rushing through your ears that blocks the sound of him whispering the word back to you as his face grows concerned. Your gaze drops to his stomach and you don't see the worried glance he passes over your shoulder to his husband, still nursing his wine with a thoughtful look on his face. Seonghwa frowns as Hongjoong, usually so sure of himself, looks to him for guidance. Truth be told, Seonghwa needs guidance in this situation too. He glances at your sad form and-
Oh…
Guidance.
“Lamb,” he coos as he rises from his chair, voice soft yet somehow still dominant. There's no hint of condescension left, nor is there any sign of teasing; it's just pure, undiluted Seonghwa. Like a warm shower, it washes over you and you heave in a sob. So gentle, so kind, and for what? For someone who has no use outside of sitting and looking pretty. You hate it. “What's wrong with my precious girl, hm? Since when did you doubt yourself so much?”
The click, click, click of his heels rings through the room again, except this time its less like the daunting countdown of a ticking time bomb and more like the familiar grandfather clock that sits just down the hallway outside of Yeosang’s room. It brings you comfort, acting as a palm tree in your tsunami of emotions. You grab onto the sound and don't let go until it suddenly comes to a stop by your side. Your heart stops as the sound stops, but then a warm pair of lips descend on your cheek and everything is just a little bit better again.
“Since when does my darling Lamb give up just because you can't do something?” a finger trails up your spine, stopping just as it reaches the nape of your neck. It twists itself into your hair, tugging just enough so that your eyes meet Hongjoong’s again. Big and brown and full of empathy. Your heart breaks for him; he shouldn't feel bad for something that's your fault. “My lamb killed nearly all the cacti in her Mommy’s greenhouse just because you wanted to learn how to garden; you haven't given that up even though your newest cactus is waterlogged and rotting.”
Try as you might, you can't see the relevance of Seonghwa’s anecdote. So what? You're bad at gardening; it's just another thing to add to the list.
“And you've not once beaten your Daddy at a game of chess, have you?” he gives you a beat or two to mumble out an affirmation, taking that time to kick his shoes off and crawl into the bed himself. He positions himself right behind you, one hand still nestled in your hair, holding your gaze on Hongjoong, and the other snaking its way around your waist. “Yet you don't let that stop you from challenging him to a match every single day, my love. You know why that is?”
You shake your head and Seonghwa gives you a little chuckle.
“Because you just don't give up, Lamb,” he pushes his chest flush against your back, grinding his own body into yours to guide your hips. Hongjoong grunts as Seonghwa forces you to pick your movements up once more; slow and sensual yet somehow still firm, just like the man himself. “I actually don't think you're capable of knowing when to stop,” another roll of his hips has Hongjoong’s cock bumping into your most sensitive spot. You break your sad little sniffles with a moan. “Sometimes you just need a little guidance in the right direction, Lamb.”
With Seonghwa rutting against your back, you find it a little easier to let go. To let your thoughts melt away into whispers as you let the pleasure fill your mind instead. They’re still there, reminding you that even now you're not the one giving him pleasure and pushing Hongjoong to the edge. Ever the empath, though, Seonghwa puts your mind at ease with a series of kisses to your jawline. When he bites down just below your ear, it's like those thoughts never existed in the first place. You moan, the sound of it blocking out the bad.
Hongjoong purrs beneath you, chest heaving beneath your hands that are splayed across his pectorals. You get an idea which you execute without a second thought. He'd just look too pretty with crescent moons painted across his pale skin so you don't even try and stop your fingers from curling and your nails digging in. He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes scrunching closed with some sort of masochistic pleasure. That part was all you, you tell the cruel thoughts in your mind as you drag your nails down his chest to make him whimper. The sound he makes as they catch against his nipples is unholy, as are the soft moans Seonghwa chants into your ear each time his hard cock presses into your lower spine.
The voice in your head goes silent.
“Fuck, dove,” Hongjoong voice is strained, barely breaking through the string of grunts and curses he lets out every time your fingers brush against the stiffened buds on his chest, “so good; you're so good. You're our darling, aren't you?” you nod, fully convinced that every word he tells you is the truth, “say it, dove. Tell us you're our darling.”
“I’m your darling,” your voice catches as Seonghwa snakes his hand down to your pussy, fingers spreading your folds until you’re sure Hongjoong has an unobstructed view of your swollen clit. A lithe finger begins to toy with it and your body goes limp in Seonghwa’s grasp.
“That’s it,” he murmurs as his finger moves expertly against you, “you're our darling, aren't you? So good for us, letting us push you around and please you. Letting us use your body to pleasure ourselves,” you moan in sync with Hongjoong, punctuating his sentence, “so what you're not good at riding yet; I can name a million other ways you make us happy.”
As if to emphasise his own words, he sighs into your ear, the motion of his hips becoming sloppy before stopping entirely. His breathing is ragged in your ear as he frees the hand from your hair and moves it to your hip to continue guiding you. He came, it seems, messily in his panties in a way that seems so unlike his tidy nature. The implications have you blushing; it seems as though he just couldn't hold himself back.
You don't have long to dwell on it though, not with the way his hands draw you back into that relentless rhythm and his fingers draw pretty pictures on your clit. It has you melting all over again, barely giving you time to form a relevant thought before making you squirm on Hongjoong’s cock. You're close, and you can tell your Daddy is too. It's written on his face, clear as day.
Hongjoong bucks his hips into yours just as Seonghwa leans in to place a few kisses against your temple. It's sweet, but it's undercut by the familiar warmth that fills you up, erupting from the cock that your daddy keeps nestled tightly within your cunt. You bite down on your lip to hold your own moan back, wanting nothing to interrupt the beautiful sound Hongjoong makes. Seonghwa’s movement slows to a stop, letting you just warm his husband’s soft cock for now.
“Beautiful girl,” Hongjoong breathes out, chest heaving and eyes glazed over with adoration, “the prettiest place for me to put my cum, aren't you.”
“So pretty,” Seonghwa agrees, speeding up his fingers in just that right way to make the knot in your stomach tighten, “and so good, taking her punishment like the good girl she is.” He taps his finger against your clit and you can't help but squirm. Hongjoong growls, bucking his own hips from the overstimulation. Seonghwa giggles prettily as he draws you further and further to the edge, “Tell her she's a good girl, Mi Amor.”
“Such a good girl.”
You pull in a breath as you feel your orgasm wash over you like a wave. It pulls you down into the depths of pleasure, filling every cell of your being with that familiar buzz that comes hand-in-hand with good sex. You feel it every morning, every night, your two—and a half, if you count the werewolf who is no doubt pacing outside the door, meagrely awaiting his own punishment—lovers taking such good care of you. They fill you with their seed, remind you of your place between them, push you to your limits before bringing you in with endless amounts of love. They take care of you, and it finally seems to click in your brain that that's your place in this weird little family; they take care of you, and they want to take care of you. They like it. The part of your mind that says otherwise sinks into oblivion along with the remnants of your orgasm until all that's left is you, empty-headed and panting in Seonghwa’s arms and on Hongjoong’s cock.
Exactly where you belong.
Hongjoong lets out a chuckle, breaking the silence that had settled over the three of you, “well that was certainly eventful,” he says as he tilts his head back to get a view of the knots you tied. Despite being tighter than you originally intended to tie them, it's easy for him to slip free. Such a gentle little creature, he muses to himself, a dove through and through, “You seemed to have a lot on your mind; would you care to share?”
He takes a moment to move his hands, easing up the stiffness in his wrists before they travel to your hips and interlock seamlessly with Seonghwa’s. They hold you like you're porcelain, precious and priceless. It makes you light up inside.
“Yes, lamb,” the man behind you sighs, “I’d rather like to know what happened. I knew you weren't exactly going to enjoy being on top, but I never expected it to affect you quite so negatively. What exactly is going on in that precious mind of yours?”
You hum as you lean back against his body, wishing he wasn't still wearing clothes so you could feel just a smidge of his soft skin against your own. You'd have to make do with the warmth that permeates the silk; it's just enough to have you curling into his frame. “Nothing anymore,” you say, truthfully, “it was just a lapse of sanity; nothing for you to worry about.”
“Are you sure?” Seonghwa asks.
“Positive,” you giggle, wriggling gleefully on Hongjoong’sover-sensitivee cock until he frees his hand from Seonghwa’s and places a light spank upon the flesh of your thigh. It isn't enough to rid you of your giddiness, but it's certainly enough to still your movements, “I think you fucked the insanity out of me…”
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez fic#ateez smut#opposites attract universe#seonghwa x reader#hongjoong x reader#matz x reader#poly ateez smut#poly ateez x reader
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Fastest way to piss me off is to treat me like a toddler
#I am 5'1'' I am autistic and I am frequently mistaken for a girl. I get CONSTANTLY infantilized and it makes me so fucking mad.#I am a perfectly competent adult man I'm not fucking stupid and I can take care of myself#I know how to ask for help when I need it stop fucking taking tasks away from me because you think I don't understand what I'm doing#If I am intensely focused on something that looks complicated that probably means I understand how to do that task better than YOU do#I am not confused you dumb fuck I am concentrating#Don't snatch the fucking object I am tinkering with out of my hand like you think I'm going to hurt myself with it or break it#This bitchy post brought to you by: I can't try to fix things in front of my mother because she'll grab them away and then break them worse#It keeps happening#I have had to fish things back out of the garbage after she's said ''Oh no let me do it'' and then destroyed them + got frustrated + gave up#I shouldn't have to hide in my room to repair my own electronics#.It speaks#!@$%^&%$#I don't like to fiddle with things that have a lot of tiny parts in MY room because I have black shag carpeting in here#It is HORRIBLE to drop a teeny tiny piece of something on this floor and then have to dig it out of that carpet
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I didnt want to like derail or overtake a post by adding tags but my brain is trying to process this and I'm "talking out loud" about it here..
Regarding like unlearning all of the things society decided to imprint on me/us about black folks and poc. I wish had like. Concrete steps i could read so i could take them, if that makes sense. Like i try to be good at learning people-related things. But it's hard to understand when someone says you should just know [x] because it's not like i wouldn't love to know or I'm not trying to figure it out. I think it's one of those "things you don't know you don't know" situations. Like I understand that a lot of the way our society is built is detrimental to many peoples ability to live and live comfortably. And i understand some things will effect other people more than me because of things like their skin or heritage or some other trait. l guess i don't know how to find like. The answer to how do I make things better. Being considerate is cool but i feel like it's not enough. I just don't know how to get to what would be enough? And i don't know what string to put in a search engine in order to find that.
#Like i can try to tell my family hey that's really fucked up to say but does it matter if they don't listen to me? Because they never do#I can show up for events and protests and try to ~vote~ but does it matter when those don't produce change? Bc again- they don't#I wish I could really really read more like a whole book without taking a fucking Adderall so that my brain doesn't quit on me and i#End up reading the same paragraph over and over for 30 minutes but it stops looking like words and i can't understand the sentence#Although that last piece has gotten worse with whatever brain fuckery has been happening and idk if that's actually ADHD related#It's just i guess like ok what can I do as in what is there out there that would help that i could be capable of doing#I genuinely not-joking want to know because i feel like it's not enough but i don't know what enough looks like for an individual's actions#And i don't want to make someone do work for me by asking them like to make me a fucking list? Ideally someone out there has already#And i can look at things and be like ok this is something i can do right now and i can work on this one too and get better at this etc#But without examples i don't really know where to start and my brain gets kind of overwhelmed thinking about large things in general#Even little (relative to society) things like cleaning my whole apartment. If i don't break into smaller chunks of tasks i get panicky#so i would like to do the making big tasks into smaller steps thing with big things like this. But i don't know where to start#I will have to try to think on it but without having the experiences i might think.. not accurately (not sure how to phrase this)#Like i said this is me talking to myself and does not need a response I'm just wishing i was better at this#Also I'm sorry for people who read my paragraphs of tags. Idk if anyone does especially when they get long like this. But I'm sorry x.x
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𝝑𝝔 an: just cool bf sukuna dying his hair black and asking his loser gf to help him hehe. man i love the way this series turned out, ALSO THANK YOU FOR 600 FOLLOWERS WTF😭😭 everyone is so nice i wanna cry :(( i promise im writing your requests guys, just need a lil more time so be patient with me!! more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
“do you know how to use box dye?”
“no?”
“the fuck d’you even know then?” sukuna rolls his eyes at you, throwing his jacket on your stool and falling down on the bed beside you. you ignore his words, opening your arms for him to settle on your chest and he does so without a question.
“we can watch a tutorial on youtube if you want?” you suggest and he grumbles something incoherently before closing his eyes and dozing off on your chest, face buried into your neck and arms tight around your middle.
so you take it upon yourself to watch a couple of tutorials and checking the instructions in the box dye, occasionally looking down at your boyfriend and imagining him with black hair. he’d look pretty in anything, you conclude and place a featherlight kiss on his forehead, right on his tattoo.
when sukuna wakes up, eyes half open and brows pinched in his usual frown, he finds you still awake, looking at your screen with great attention and the nail of your thumb between your teeth. you don’t pay him any mind as he crawls up under your arm to see what you’re so interested in.
“were you watching these the whole time?” he asks, a playful smirk on his lips, when he notices that you’re watching tutorials.
“yeah, wanted to help you.”
he smacks a kiss onto your cheek, “heh, loser, you’ll just do it for me then.”
you don’t mind, just nodding along and giving him a sweet smile in return. sukuna suppresses the dreamy sigh that threatens to come out of him when he sees how obedient you are with him, how patient and sweet you are.
as you add all of the ingredients into a bowl, you give it to sukuna with instructions to mix it all together, but as soon as he starts you regret your decision because he somehow manages to get it all over the sink and marbles and even some on the mirror above the sink. you suspect he did it just so you wouldn’t task him with anything else, which he doesn’t even deny because he is an asshole like that.
his previously pink tufts soon disappear under the black dye and it looks so natural on sukuna that you once again wonder if he was lying about his hair being naturally pink. you continue dying until all of his hair is covered. he groans about you finally being done and pinches you when you mutter under your nose about him just sitting and not doing anything but still complaining.
it’s, of course, a total mess when it’s time to wash out the excess hair dye; sukuna is such a menace about it too. he just shakes his head in every direction he can so that the black droplets of water stick everywhere, dirtying the white marbles of your bathroom shower.
at your request to stop sukuna just sprays you with the water.
eventually, you manage to wash out everything while he just lets out silly chuckles, mocking your whines and complaints about him being a pig. he sits down on your little chair again, now facing you instead of the mirror, his shirt off and knees trapping your thighs between his legs as you dry his hair with a towel gently.
sukuna tugs the towel down impatiently and looks at you, a smirk appearing on his face at the sight of your red face and bitten lips, “how do i look?”
you gulp down roughly as you watch him stand up to check himself out. he ruffles his hair before smoothing it back, biceps flexing in the process, and a very satisfied expression takes over his features. sukuna turns to face you once again, raising a brow at you, still waiting for your answer.
“you look really pretty, ‘kuna,” you nearly whisper, hand coming up to touch his damp hair, gliding down the nape of his neck. “so so pretty.”
his palm meets the top of your head in a gentle pat, fingers threading through your hair and gliding down then to cup your jaw in his favourite demanding manner. he pulls your head up, nails slightly digging into your cheek as he kisses your lips, earning a pleased hum from you.
you grip his shoulders tightly, palms splayed over his tattoos, trying not to lose your balance on your tiptoes, and whine when he pulls away, chasing his lips.
“‘m not some princess, am i?” sukuna shakes your head in his hold, smiling down at you with fondness written over his features. “you could call me hot instead.”
“you look very pretty tho, ‘kuna.” you tilt your head to one side, a little confused.
he rolls his eyes, pushing your face away with his hand, and ignores the whine you let out after.
#— miya writes!#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#jjk sukuna#jujustsu kaisen x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader
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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)
Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.
TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere
Word count: 3754
This work on AO3
There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.
Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.
Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.
There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.
Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.
There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.
“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.”
He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window.
“Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows”
He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives.
(Even if this is true)
But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.
But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.
But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…
There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…
Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.
— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?
Yes, he can hear you.
Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.
— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.
It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.
He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.
Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.
König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.
This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.
Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.
When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?
Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.
— Where do you want me to start, sir?
He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.
— The living room. If it’s not too much.
He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.
Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.
— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?
He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.
You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.
Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.
— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.
— Alright. Anything else?
He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.
He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.
This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.
And he only knew you for an hour tops.
König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.
He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?
He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.
He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.
His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.
König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.
Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.
He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.
Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.
So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.
It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.
— What is it, liebling?
Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.
You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.
— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.
He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.
He might not even let you go after.
— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…
He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.
— Alright. I will do it right away then.
You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.
He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.
— I will divide everything into categories, alright?
— Gut.
You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.
You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.
— Can I just put it back in boxes or…
You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.
It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.
He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.
Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.
#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#konig x reader#yandere konig#cod x you#konig mw2#reader insert#yandere cod#male yandere#konig#konig x you#konig cod
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i love you, it’s ruining my life
azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3
summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.
warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty
A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate.
Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.
Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word.
Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you.
And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.
The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction.
Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him.
You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be.
Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.
He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment.
Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.
A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond.
“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer.
You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him.
Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well.
You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.
And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them.
You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction.
It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice.
You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you.
That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.
You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings.
Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.
The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond.
After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience.
You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well.
You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this.
Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.
You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face.
“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”
“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”
“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.”
“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”
“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”
You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you.
“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”
“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words.
“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.
“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”
——————————————————————
That was almost two years ago.
Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through.
And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on.
Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone.
“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”
“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.”
“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”
The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand.
“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”
“I really don’t know–”
“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”
“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”
The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking.
“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered.
“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade.
“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.
“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.”
“I–I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now.
You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond.
“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him.
“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”
The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died.
Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind.
The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.
But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs.
So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times.
“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.”
Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved.
“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands.
The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart.
Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him.
Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened.
The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate.
Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel.
It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.
Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope.
Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel.
After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.
I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.
The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go.
In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.
The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.
taglist: @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @impossibelle
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Hi! I hope your doing well while you read this request! May I ask for HSR Men (Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Welt and maybe Boothill) their reaction when after 2 weeks of disappearance from their s/o because of a mission, they came back to them all exhausted and slightly injured. If I can be more precise, can you describe how they acted when they had no news of their s/o et their reaction when they came back please?
Thank you for the attention you’ll give to this request ! I hope you’ll have a great day/night!
-🩵✨
This is a long one, so brace yourselves! And have a great morning/evening/night! 🦦🐿️
Blade
‘Where have you been?’ Blade hissed, anger laced his voice as he drags you to the nearest surface and eased you on it, keen to avoid worsening your wounds.
‘I was on a mission.’ You sassed, not wanting this to be your first conversation back from a near death experience.
‘I know that,’ he barks as he rummaged through the cabinets for a first aid kit, uncaring do the mess he was making in the process, ‘you’ve been on a mission for two fucking weeks and not once did it come to mind to keep in contact during that time?’ He adds, looking at you with a look that wasn’t angry but instead scared.
Blade had spent the past two weeks going utterly insane form the lack of communication on your end. At first he didn’t think much but by day 12, Blade was more or less ready to included himself in your mission. Unfortunately according to Elio, this wasn’t apart of the script and Blade was made to stay on the sidelines and await your return.
It wouldn’t take long before you came home but you came home in the worst of conditions that Blade had ever seen you in recent memory, and that made him extremely upset. Not at you though, more or less at the person or thing that made those wounds on you.
Communications were down, I had no way of telling you anything.’ You replied, having already grown annoyed at his constant pestering and prodding.
‘Well you should’ve.’ Blade muttered gruffly as he gently took your arm into his hand and examined the wound and had to bite his tongue from saying anything else, but found that task to be a bit too difficult for him. ‘Then I could’ve stopped them from hurting you.’ He added.
You groaned and punched your brow with your free hand, all you wanted to do was go to sleep but couldn’t help but feel warm on the inside at the idea of Blade getting revenge on your behalf. ‘That’s not necessary.’ You told him, trying hard not to wince as he cleaned your wound.
‘And why not?’ He asks, noticing your attempts and wordlessly tries a different approach in cleaning your wound.
‘They’re all dead.’ You replied nonchalantly and Blade couldn’t help but smile. ‘That’s my partner.’ He says but the smile soon falls as he finished patching your wound and looks you dead in the eyes. ‘However the next time you’re sent on a long mission I’m coming with, no excuses.’
You groan again, there was no winning with this man.
Jing yuan was trusting in your abilities to keep yourself safe but the longer he went without update of you nor progression of the mission, Jing Yuan grew worried that something had happened.
He already lost a lot, he didn’t need your loss on top of all that. He lost hope on appreciating that he was living once, he knew that if anything happened to you he would relapse into those old ways but with no chance of recovery.
He would try and fail many attempts of making contact with you, only to be met with static as a responses which didn’t exactly help his hope in seeing you that slowly began to dwindle the longer he tried, until he stopped trying all together.
In his mind you were gone a long time ago and he should start his grieving while he could.
However you did come back, but not exactly in the best shape…you were wounded and exhausted but to Jing Yuan you never looked more alive in that moment as he was quick to get you medical attention. Not once did the general think to leave your leave your side as you laid out on the bed, wounds patched up and fast asleep from everything.
He even slept in the chair next to your bed, making sure your sleep went undisturbed and had a familiar face to wake up to as to not feel misplaced somewhere foreign. Jing Yuan didn’t feel entirely comfortable in leaving you alone during this time, especially when you’re vulnerable and susceptible to a plethora of things.
Not when he barely avoided a possibility of never seeing you again. He didn’t care for the reasons why you couldn’t contact him, those can wait for another time, he only cared that you were back by his side and alive.
So he’d fall asleep with his hand laced with yours and his head resting on your lap, acting like your personal guard dog as he kept his body facing towards the door in the instant he had to protect you.
No one would take you from him again, mission or not, you were staying by his side from now on, generals orders.
Dan heng didn’t think much when you didn’t reach out and tell him about the things you’ve found that he might like whilst away, however that didn’t mean he didn’t have a bad feeling about all of it.
He did but he couldn’t prove why as it was too early into the mission to say why he felt that way. Dan Heng always trusted his instincts when it came moments of uncertainty as they’ve always been proven correct. However this was the one time where he really didn’t want that to be the case.
Yet the longer he went without the regular flow of communication between the two of you during missions, Dan Heng felt himself break out into a cold sweat during the night and out of breath from experiencing another nightmare where you didn’t come back from this mission, leaving him utterly heartbroken and lost for the rest of his days.
He couldn’t close his eyes for a single second without the nightmare flooding back to haunt him of a potential future without you, his other half.
He even had nightmares where you were calling out to him for help but he couldn’t hear them and was forced by an higher power to ignore your soundless cries and walk away unbothered. Those were the nightmares Dan Heng hated the most as there would never be a moment in his life where he would ever leave you to such a cruel fate; He’d be more than gladly suffer with you than ever abandon you.
So the moment you came home wounded and exhausted, Dan Heng didn’t waste time in getting you to medical, taking everything the doctor told him to help you heal seriously as your newly appointed caregiver. Some of the time he came across as strict but he meant well as all he wanted was for you to get better and soon, seeing as how you gave him the biggest fright of his life.
He doesn’t let anyone else near you.
You can blame it on his dragon noodle side as it grew overprotective of the fact that you -his mate- were in seemingly left in a vulnerable state. He didn’t care to listen to the reasonings as to why he should let anyone else come near you, not without knowing their intentions in descriptive depth, he could take care of you himself perfectly fine and without any outside help.
He was your partner, you were his responsibility but this was all just an excuse to hide the fact that Dan Heng was genuinely scared of letting you out of his sight, even if it was for five minutes because a lot could happen in five minutes. So now he stays close to you from then on as a precaution, holding your hand in his and squeezing it as thought he was trying to convince himself that you were actually with him weeks afterwards.
Boothill didn’t like the idea of you being so far from him and much preferred for you to stay in contact if you were going to be so far away from him for so long.
However nothing seemed to want to go the way he wanted as soon as he found that he couldn’t contact you. None of his messages were going through and neither were his calls, as he read and reread the message that said you were out of the area for his messages to get through to you.
Boothill grew more and more restless the longer his texts didn’t go through, still claiming you were out of the area, whatever the hell that means and had to actively find ways to de stress because of how often he found himself on the verge of blasting anything and everything that moved.
You were his anchor, his partner in crime and his voice of reason, without you Boothill was teetering on the brink of becoming everyone’s problem should you spend even another hour more away from him.
So when you did come back with wounds scarred across your body and looking as though you were on the brink of collapse, Boothill was made more worried than before. Your wounds weren’t very deep nor life threatening but Boothill didn’t care, you were hurt and he wasn’t made aware of it for the past two weeks.
He wanted to hunt down the bastards who made those wounds on your body and make them pay, regardless if they had a bounty on their heads or not, he’d gladly hunt them down just to set an example as to why you don’t fuck with Boothill’s loved one.
‘Don’t.’ You croaked, grabbing his hand. ‘Just stay with me and make everything okay cowboy.’
Boothill, not one to argue with you, especially not in your current state, obeyed your wish and stayed by your side as you slowly but surely recovered from your wounds with scars left behind as reminders.
Though that didn’t stop him from going off behind your back to hunt the bastards down, he never could let go of a grudge after all.
Welt basically worried himself sick when he didn’t hear anything from you the first couple of days, but was soon talked down from doing anything rash that could potentially put you in even more danger, regardless of his intention of being by your side.
Welt was restless for the remainder of the two weeks, double checking his phone for anything that could push him over the edge and force him into acting.
What happened to you?
Why weren’t you responding?
Were you hurt?
Were you in danger and he didn’t know?
So many thoughts floated in welt’s mind as he was left feeling powerless as he was forced to await your return, hoping that all his thoughts were just that, meaningless thoughts that had no real affect in reality.
He was wrong.
You did come home but you came back with some new wounds and a face that screamed exhaustion. You barely took one step before collapsing into Welt’s arms as he got you medical help.
‘What happened out there?’ He’d calmly ask one day as he held your hand, thumb rubbing the back of it reassuringly.
‘Communications were down,’ you told him as you squeezed his hand, just happy to be back home and with him, ‘then the mission went south as I found myself out of my depth on several occasions, I’m sorry Welt.’ You finish weakly.
‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’ Welt reassures as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘Not all missions go according to plan and all that matters right now is that you’re safe, so please don’t apologise for things beyond your control.’ He adds as he watched you slowly drift to sleep, still feeling a little exhausted from the mission and everything that happened.
Welt stayed awake for a little while longer to commemorate this moment to memory, to treasure it during the moments when you were to be apart from one another again, but until that time Welt would hold you as close as he possibly could and keep you safe to the best of his abilities. Your safety meant a lot to him and he’d rather jeopardise his own safety if it meant that you’d never get hurt again, he’d do it in a heartbeat because that’s just how much you meant to him and todays events only solidified that.
#hsr jing yuan x reader#hsr boothill x reader#hsr imagines#hsr imagine#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#Honkai star rail imagine#Honkai star rail imagines#blade imagines#blade imagine#blade x reader#boothill imagines#boothill imagine#boothill x reader#dan heng x reader#Dan heng imagine#Dan heng imagines#welt x reader#welt yang x reader#welt Yang imagine#welt Yang imagines#jing yuan imagine#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan imagines
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rafe cameron — nsfw alphabet ༝༚༝༚
context : the alphabet.. but each letter has a new rafe cameron nsfw/sfw concept. this is also bunny!reader x rafe.
tws : smut, nsfw, rafe x sweet/bunny reader, cream pie, voyeurism, brief degrading, brief daddy kink. fingering, porn/nudes, tying reader up, oral sex, a ton of nsfw headcanons.
A: aftercare • you would tend to get sleep almost immediately after you come, and the first thing rafe does is take you to the bathroom and let you pee so u don’t get a UTI, n he’ll probably wait outside and keep asking “u done baby?” ‘till you clean up. and obviously, after the oh so harddd task of peeing, he’ll carry you back to bed. rafe somehow doesn’t get tired after sex, but seeing you already get lazy eyed, he has no choice but to lay down with his little bun and cuddle up with her.
B: boobs. literally boobs. • rafe loves your tits, and he loves grabbing them even more. he’ll randomly come up behind you when you’re doing your makeup, hair, etc. and just grab ur boobs. he loves the way they fit perfectly in his big palm, and how flustered you get too. “rafe! stop— i’m doing my makeup!!” you’d say, as you wave his hands away, feigning annoyance. “relax baby, their just too tempting.” rafe snickered, smirking. rafe just can’t get enough of them, especially when your wearing the thin, baby pink, lacy top from victoria’s secret.
C: cum • okay, rafe knows that he has to use a condom, blah blah blah. but on those days where he just needs a good, raw, fuck.. trust me, he’d cum inside you, making sure every inch of his hot cum fills you up to the brim. and rest assured, you’d hate and love it at the same time.
D: dirty talk • he’d soooo dirty talk you in public, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, knowing how wet your sweet pussy gets just by the sound of his voice. he’d sometimes say the most vile things about what he’d to you when you both get home.
“do you really think i’m not noticing your blowjob eyes as i’m golfing, huh? y’know.. i’d love seeing those eyes of yours when i’m fucking you endlessly. making you cum so hard. oh god, baby, i can hear those pretty moans of yours already. hmm?” he’d huskily whisper, inches by the shell of your ear. and then, he’d walk off as if nothing happened. leaving you anticipated for the entire day, squeezing your thighs and drinking an excessive amount of water to help with the heat building in your cheeks.
E: experience • rafe deffo has experience with sex. but i wouldn’t call him the biggest man-whore, since he met you in s2 of obx, i’d say he had 4 bodies by then. 2 of them being random hookups and the other 2 being girls from a short term relationship w/ him. i also hc that bunny!reader would have a few bodies, but would act like she’s a virgin just for rafe, similar to how maddie perez did it.
F: fingering • mmm, rafe is a master at fingering. he knows how to get your pussy wet and make it even wetter when he’s touching you. he’d start off with just a few strokes on your clothed pussy, building up tension that you so desperately want to release. n then when you’d get all needy he’d slide your panties down and spread your thighs.
you’d position yourself on his lap, head on his shoulder, looking at him with your big bambi eyes, pleading. and he’d slowly circle your clit in circular motions, taking pleasure in the way your hips jerked and lips parted with heavy breaths. and then he’d sink two fingers in, slowly at first, and then going faster. the cold touch of his golden rings slipping between your lips made you moan. loud. and in amidst of all this, he’d be doing some random thing on his laptop, but secretly taking a voice memo of your sweet moans. to obviously jerk off to later, you really think he’d pleasure you and restrict himself from doing it later on?
G: g-spot • imagine no guy has actually found your g-spot before, they’d just fuck you and you’d get that tiny ounce of pleasure that made you cum, but when rafe first fingered you, curling up his fingers to hit that sweet spot that only you yourself could find, you UNRAVELED. i’m sure he was shocked at how loud you moaned. he had thought you’d never gotten fingered before. but when you told him that no guy had actually fingered you that good, he was both pleased and shook. “what d’you mean no one’s found your g-spot? isn’t that like— the main thing in sex??” but to be honest.. him being the only guy that found your g-spot really boosted his confidence lol.
H: hair • rafe absolutely loves your hair, playing with it, braiding it, seeing how it drapes over your shoulders elegantly. he had never met someone who takes care of their hair like their life depends on it. you’d have serums, hair masks, good hair days and bad hair days, and rafe was all here for it.
(this is for my curly hair readers btw). sometimes when your hair wasn’t cooperating you’d get annoyed and bang your hairbrush against your head, clearly disheveling your hair, and rafe would come over and brush it for you. putting in your gel, mousse and even diffusing it.
rafe also is weirdly obsessed with how your hair smells, he’d bury his shoulder into it, or randomly smell it throughout the day, and once he’d even gotten wheeze to smell your hair.. “her hair smells so good right? i don’t even know how, it just smells fuckin’ amazing.” he’d proudly state, and you not being sure if wether that’s creepy or cute.
I: initials (tattooed) • right on his chest, beneath his heart, are the two letters of your name, more so, your initials. Y/N.Y/L/N written in a bold, italic font. and right next to it is your favorite animal, a bunny. you were struck when he had actually gotten a whole ass bunny tatted next to your initial!!
J: jerking off in ur absence • whenever rafe has trips, or if you’ve been away for some time, rafe deffo jerks off to pictures you sent to him. you’d send a teasing mirror pic of you getting dressed, your hand covering your nipples. and then you’d send a soapy tit pic of you in the shower. but lastly, a day before you come back, you’d send the hottest picture of you in rafes favorite pink lingerie set, playing with yourself and moaning rafes name. leaving him needy and desperate until he lands..
K: kinks • omg the amount of kinks u and rafe would share imagine him fucking you for the first time and slowly starts roughing you up, only to see you cooperate and urge him to do more. the smirk on his facee😩.
L: location (where you fuck) • personally, public sex is a huge turn in for rafe, but being the little slut you are, it’s an even bigger turn-on for you. obviously you’d fuck in his bed or yours, and sometimes i’m the couch or kitchen counter. rafe would also take you on the druthers boat and make you ride his lap, stopping when a boat comes buy, your sweaty face and messed up outfit being evident.
M: marks • rafe would leave hickeys everywhere. stomach, thighs, neck, collarbone, shoulders, tits, even inches away from your pussy. you’d leave bite marks on rafe, scratches illuminating his back, and lipstick stains all over his collar and cheek.
N: nudes • he just has a hidden album filled with your nudes. wether its videos of you both fucking, teasing pictures you’d send him of your bikini try ons, or you fingering your self. he’d also have voice memos of your moans saved. p.s, rafe would so ask you to talk about something random for a minute on voice memos and jerk off to your voice.
O: only fans acc • a little similar to the one on top ^. but imagine making an only fans account where ur only follower/subscriber is rafe. and trust, he will act like a whole ass fan. he’ll comment on your videos; “omg ur so hot can i request food play” with a +400$ message next to it. youd livestream and he’d be your only viewer, talking you through playing with yourself. and when i mean he’s a fan, i mean this man would literally pay you 1000$ per month as per his ‘subscription’..
P: plushies • whilst fucking you hard, rafe would grab your favorite plushy and tell you to hold it. he found it so fucking hot seeing you cling onto the soft toy, bringing it to your mouth to bite onto to hold back your loud moans.
Q: quickies • yall would deffo have quick fucks in between parties, hangouts, dinners, etc. sometimes if your ovulating you’d practically beg on your knees for a quickie with rafe. “rafeyy, please. if you don’t do anything i’ll go to the bathroom n’deal with it myself!” you whine, nudging his arm to get up from his seat at an event. and obviously, he gives in. every. single. time.
R: riding his thigh • when your extremely horny, and need an immediate relief youd prop yourself on rafes thigh and start grinding. this would be your only option as he’d dismiss your attempts to make him fuck you, so he’d tap his thigh and say “if your really that horny jus’ ride my thigh. cmon, you wanted to come, right?”. you’d get so wet, making a mess on his sweatpants.
S: sucking his dick • messy blowjobs>>. sucking him off after a hard day, at a party when he’s high and needy, or right after you went to his family dinner. you’d look so perfect with your big, glossy eyes staring up at him. head bobbing as you perfectly swirl the pad of your tongue against the base of his cock. him groaning and praising your amazing head-giving skills.
T: tying you up • hands above your head, a belt knotted against both your wrists, restraining you from pushing rafe away whilst he fucks you mindlessly. rafe would be destroying you, pounding in and out as you take the pleasure like a good girl. you are his little bun, after all.
U: unfair • teasing you when your sat on his lap, waiting for him to finish off his work, whilst he slowly and lightly circles your clit. “daddy, i really need you.” you’d moan in his ear. “i know baby, i know. daddies gotta finish this off first, ‘kay?” and so you waited, only for him to go into the shower, not even letting you in.
V: voyeurism • sliding your panties off and stuffing it in his pocket is his favorite thing to do when he’s off golfing whilst your sitting in your garden chair, feeling the coldness of the air blowing against your sticky cunt. not being able to fix the unbearable tension in your pulsing clit, and having to wait till you get home.
W: what/how big is he • a whopping 7.3 inches. a tad bit specific ik, but the way he’d ruin you.. and what’s funny is the fact that rafe knows he’s big!! and he knows that you can take it too.
X: ion know what to put for this one.. so i’m gonna put a random hc of rafe.. • has a weird food play kink?.. i just feel like he’d take ice cream and lick it off your tits, or spread chocolate syrup all over your nipples and stomach and lick it off too. (obviously nothing down there, don’t wanna get a yeast infection).
Y: ‘your too big!’ • lining himself up against you, seeing his big cock already needy of slamming into you, made you worry. your eyes slightly widened at his size, how the fuck is he gonna fit?. “rafey, i don’t think it’s gonna fit.. your too big.” you mustered out, wanting but at the same time not wanting him. “shhh bun, ts’ gunna fit, i’ll go realll slow? okay baby?” he stated, making you ease up and unclench your pussy, allowing full entrance. he slowly slid inside you, already owning a long moan and scatters of whimpers escaping your mouth. he went in further, and you took him in fully. “good girl, i told you it’d fit.”
Z: also have no idea, so another random hc one again! • loves seeing you spit out his cum after sucking him off. just seeing his cum drop down your chin turns him on sm and makes him hard asf.
#ᯓ★ maybankcore#ᯓ★ concepts#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe obx#rafe imagines#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x bunny!reader#bunny!reader#rafe cameron fic#outerbanks#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron angst#smut#obx#jj maybank#jj maybank angst#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fanfic#dark!rafe x reader
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JJK CHARACTERS AND THEIR ICKS
basically things they do that make you upset. this is a joke so please do not attack me. y'all already know i never miss a chance to slander gojo!!! credit to my sweet mutual lene (@satorisoup) for giving me this idea!!! GO READ HER'S (if you're into haikyuu)
Gojo
PLEASE. He 100% leaves his clothes on the floor and it really grates your nerve when the hamper is RIGHT THERE!!! and he just leaves them right in front of it. It's so embarrassing when you have guests over and they just pull a dirty sock from between the couch cushions.
Yuji
I love him but I just KNOW he leaves toothpaste in the sink. It's like he doesn't understand the concept of rinsing the sink out after you brush your teeth. You'll finally be making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and there's dried spit and toothpaste in the sink.
Megumi
Always. talks. back. It does not matter he always has something to say. "Well you could have just taken out the trash like I asked you to." and he'll say something snarky like, "Maybe if you weren't so soft spoken I would have heard you." BOY SHUT UP BEFORE YOU GET SLAPPED.
Geto
He is a HUGE gossip. "Mimiko was telling me about xyz yesterday." He just doesn't know when to shut up. People think Geto is a very quiet and kept to himself kind of person but when he knows you he will not stop talking shit.
Toji
There are so many things I could say but the worst of them all is the fact that he will wear the same pair of underwear more than twice. "Toji... are those the same fucking boxers you had on Thursday?" You can see the hem line of his boxers and it looks like the same pair from Thursday. He sets down his cup, "Uh, probably. What's today?" ... "IT'S SUNDAY. JUST WASH YOUR CLOTHES!"
Nanami
He's overbearing with tasks. He forgets that you know how to do things and will bug you until he knows you've done them. "Don't forget to take your car to get an oil change soon." You nod.
A few hours later when he returns home, "Have you gone down to get the oil ch-"
"Kento! The love of my life. I know. I'm going tomorrow." ... "Oh, okay. I'm sorry."
Nobara
Leaves her plate/bowl/etc on the table. You've reminded her on multiple occasions that she needs to do it but she just forgets. "Food was great!" She yells with a smile. In no time she's up from the table sprinting to the living room. "Nobara.. your plate." She freezes, "Oh shit right. I'll get it!"
Maki
She snores. It's not the cute kind either, it's the loud obnoxious kind that prevents you from sleeping. You've tried to get her to change her sleeping posture and find other ways to help but it does. not. matter. By the end of the night she will be holding you close. Your back pressed against her front and loud snores ringing in your ear.
Inumaki
Never gives you any kind of warning when he's going to fart he just does it. HE KNOWS they're a lethal weapon but finds it funny whenever you're screaming at him and gasping for air. God forbid he ever farts while you two are in bed because a dutch oven from him is probably enough to kill you.
Shoko
She laughs whenever you trip or get hurt in any kind of way. She doesn't even mean it she just does it. Like say she sees that the pavement is uneven she doesn't say anything and watches you trip, just to laugh about it. "Okay okay okay, I'm so *giggle* sorry. I should have said something, let me help you up."
Sukuna
Thinks because he's lived for a long time he knows everything and then he gets mad when, "This stupid little talking box won't work." (his phone) "This shit is broken again." He complains throwing it to you. "Dude.. it's powered off. 'Mr. I Know Everything.'" He rolls his eyes at you, "I do know everything you shit for brains." You scoff, "See if I ever help you turn on your 'talking box' again."
Choso
He's always second guessing you. He doesn't even realize it either. The two of you will be driving and he's like, "Are you sure you know where we're going? Should I pull up GPS." YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING CHILL. He's just really cautious though which is why he asks a million times.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#yuji x reader#megumi x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#nobara x reader#maki zenin x reader#shoko x reader#sukuna x reader#choso x reader
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finger sucking w/nerdy!gf abby
warnings; finger sucking (obv), implied (ish?) gagging, talk of a strap-on but not used, abby refers to the strap-on as her dick, strap-on is referred to as her dick
a/n; i've had this idea non stoppp ugh so i had to get a lil drabble out :3 and thank you SO much for all the love on my first fic, i'm so honored <3 if you have any ideas you want me to do a drabble/fic for, plspls lmk!
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
god, most days you just can’t shut those pretty lips of yours, not around her, anyway. your girlfriend is serious in regards to her college classes: doesn’t miss a single homework assignment, spends at least an hour every evening on her work, and the library is her home away from her dorm.
and you, of course.
abby anderson wasn’t sure what to look out for when she began to fall for one of the most well known girls on campus. seriously, you were like one of those girls out of the movies: popular, pretty girl, cheer team, flawless persona. everyone loved you, including herself.
you were a nice girl, but that mouth of yours was a killer. abby wasn’t just your girlfriend, but your best friend, and you told her every little detail about every little thing you did. rambling and rambling, you’d probably go for hours if she didn’t stop you.
in general, abby didn’t mind that, because it wasn’t that she wanted to feel like you weren’t being heard by her. she did care, and she did want to hear you out. but it’s when you began to do it when she was busy with her work, that it became a bit of a problem.
and even if it doesn’t seem like she is on the surface, the raging dom in your nerd of a girlfriend just can’t help but take care of it.
she had had it with the rambling for this evening. you were perched in her lap, rattling off every single thing wrong with how cheer had gone today. some girl had messed up her form, which made an issue for you and the girls on your team, etc, etc, etc.
god, did abby love you, but, fuck, did you need to shut up every once in a while.
one second, you’re speaking, babbling away. but before you even know it, your open lips are getting pushed past by abby’s index and ring, which get shoved knuckle-deep into the back of your throat. “hush, baby,” abbys commands.
your eyes widen in surprise, eyebrows raising as you let out a small, “mmph!” and whimper. what the hell had she done that for? you hadn’t even been misbehaving! so then, you find yourself grumbling, giving abby a confused look, face hot.
abby obviously doesn’t feel like explaining. when does she ever? she could care less about your opinion when it came to things like this. just take what she gives you. she shushes you, not giving a care in the world how curious you are for her reasoning. “shhh. suck, baby, suck,” she said firmly.
you didn’t want to listen at first. you were in the middle of speaking, for god’s sake, and you wanted to finish what you were saying. but you were a simple woman, and this was just like every other time you had sucked abby’s fingers: your body was physically relaxing, calming as every word you’d been saying before leaves your head.
and then your head was on abby’s chest, eyes closed, and hands in your lap as you sucked her fingers like a baby. “mhm,” abby coos, knowing full well how easy you were. it was such a simple task, shutting you up, that is. “good girl. so cute like this, princess.”
“mmm,” you let out softly, cuddling into her closer, if that’s even possible. you can’t even remember to get mad at her, or ask her why she was shushing you like this. if it means her fingers in your mouth, you don’t give a fuck. abby can’t help but chuckle, her other hand on your hips.
“there you go. such a pretty baby. you suck so well for me, doll,” abby whispers. the way she says it makes your mind flash with all the times she’s made you suck on her strap, giving you words of praise as you did it, because that’s what a good girl deserves.
“you know i love hearing you, baby, but i’ve gotta focus now, okay?” abby says in a tone that sends butterflies down to your abdomen, and maybe somewhere lower, too. you do what you can to nod, sucking abby’s fingers like a pacifier as she cradles you like a baby.
abby smiles down at that pretty, fucked-out look on your face, even when she hasn’t done much at all to you, and goes on. “maybe if you behave, i’ll let you suck my dick a little later, yeah? that sound fair to you?”
it’s like she can read your mind. of course it does, you like the sound of it a bit too much. so you nod once more.
it’s a win-win, really. she got to have her peace, and you got to feel better by sucking on her fingers. and just then, abby thrust her fingers deeper into your mouth, letting you curl your tongue around them as you moan.
“promise you if you’re good for me, i’ll give you all my attention when i’m done with my work. just keep being good, n’ sucking me, okay?” abby asks, moving her free hand from your hip back to her homework. you miss the feeling, but you know how abby feels In regards to her classes, her homework, school in general. so you nod.
“mhm,” you murmur, lips around abby’s fingers. but abby pulls them back, your own drool covering them when she does, and you whimper at the loss. god, she was just playing with you now.
“say it,” she says firmly, the kind of tone you know she only uses when she’s not playing around.
but then again, when is she ever?
“i- i will, abby,” you say in response, giving her those sweet puppy-dog eyes of yours, begging her to give you her fingers back. she smiles.
“that’s a good girl.”
so as she’s doing her work, she’s sitting in her chair, you cradled in her lap with her fingers deep inside your mouth, bouncing you up and down on her lap to keep you calm. it’s almost fucking childish, but, fuck, does it give you butterflies.
and once she’s done with her work, she pulls her fingers from your lips, covered in your spit and all. that’s when she kisses you, slow and sloppy, giving you all the attention that your plump lips are so badly craving. she finds the way you take her glasses off to kiss her adorable, because it shows just how needy you are.
and to reward you for being so good for her, she’ll have you sit up in her lap, thighs on both sides of it, and use those same drool drenched fingers to finger you, letting you ride her up and down like the good girl you are. you think of that “later” she promised you, mouth wrapped around her dick as you suck her off, and that only drives you even crazier as you’re riding your gf <3
#abby anderson#abby anderson fic#abby anderson fan fiction#abby anderson smut#abby anderson tlou2#abby anderson the last of us 2#abby tlou#the last of us smut#wlw ns/fw#wlw smut#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x y/n#tlou2 smut
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Frat Peter and he's all cocky, but he gets really shy when you're around and his friends keep teasing him about his little crush and how he's putty in your hands and you don't even know?
god i love him so much
“Your girls here, parker.”
Peter rolls his eyes, as much as he denies no one believes him. You’re not his girl, not by a long shot but god does he wish you were. The jab still couldn’t stop him from swiveling his neck, sure enough you were laughing with friends, your wide smile made him smile too. You looked so pretty, he’s never seen someone fill out clothes the way you do.
He needs to find a way to talk to you, it started as group partners and he may have played a little dumb to get you to study with him, just for some one on one time. Since then you’ve gotten closer, and everyday he feels more and more like a lovesick puppy. He’d do anything you ask, just so he can prove he could make you happy.
“Pong, let’s go, parker.”
Peter wants to whine like a toddler, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on you. Not that he needs to, and definitely not to scare off a potential suitor, he just wants to make sure you’re safe, that’s all. He looks you over again, you’re with friends and he thinks you’ll be alright.
Right before he can turn back to his brothers your eyes flicker up, meeting his you send a grin. Peter’s been caught, he’s been looking over you for a minute and that smile said ‘caught you,’ it made his cheeks warm, a faint blush coats his cheeks and you can’t help but watch as his friends hoop and shake his shoulders, causing him to nearly run to the garage for a game of beer pong.
Peter doesn’t know how long he’s been playing. He knows it’s been about three games, and he’s trying to act the perfect amount of buzzed. What he does know is that time stopped when you came looking for him, his ears picking up on your fluttery soft voice pushing for apologies.
“Do you know where peter is?”
Wasted white girl looks appalled you asked, “who the fuck is peter?”
“Oh. Um, parker?”
Wasted white girl drags out an ‘oh,’ then points in his general direction, you raise on tiptoes, looking over the shoulders in the cramped room, catching sight of his snapback, turned backwards. You started to make your decent, politely excusing yourself and apologizing when you rub up against someone.
You think about tapping his shoulder, but you’re a menace. You tug at his hat, pulling it off his head, before you can complete the task his hand grips your wrist, a dull tone comes from his mouth.
“Don’t do that.”
Your hand drops, you didn’t know there was a boundary there.
“I’m sorry!”
His head whips to yours, wide eyed and flushed.
“I didn’t know it was you! You can do that, you have my permission.”
His teammate, Ethan, if you remember correctly, coughed into his hand, one word slipping from his mouth made Peter jerk his shoulder into his. “Simp.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “peter’s not a simp, that’s mean. You should say sorry.”
Ethan is having fun, “oh trust me, if you knew what I know, you would call him a simp too.” Peter, in a panic, rips his hat off his head and throws it on yours, it falls over your eyes, you fix it with enough time to watch Peter mumble out “watch it,” before directing all his attention on you.
“Looking good.”
You do a spin for him, “think I can pledge next year?”
“You have my vote.”
Ethan had to bite back another simp comment.
“Can you do me a favor?”
Rushed, “anything.”
Ethan can’t help his snort, he tries to hide it behind clearing his throat.
Peter wants to kill his friend.
“I’ve been ditched and I really have to pee, so would you mind watching my drink?”
Peter holds out a hand to take it, his palm covering the open mouth. “It would be my honor.”
You smile at him, “thanks, be right back.”
“Five minutes and I come looking.”
That was new, it was protective. It made you feel warm and safe inside, he was a really good friend. You promised you would be back, but the line was longer than you expected and you were unable to complete the task in just a few minutes.
Peter kept count, and like he said, went looking. Ethan’s pissed that they’ve now lost the game to a forfeit, all because Peter was head over heels in a gushy crush. You bound down the steps in time to see Peter getting aggravated by his friend, you couldn’t help but overhear.
“You know this is super entertaining, right?”
“Shut up, Ethan.”
“It’s adorable. The way you run after her, bending to her will. Who knew parker had a bitch in him.”
In one quick motion Peter had him pinned to the wall.
“Don’t ruin this for me. I’m gonna make a move, alright? She makes me nervous and I’m not used to this, okay?”
“Ask her on a fucking date, I’d put a thousand on the line she’d say yes.”
You wonder who he’s talking about, you have more than an inkling it’s you but Peter’s never seemed interested, just a good friend. It must have been someone else.
“I’m not betting on Y/N, I like her too much.”
Oh fuck. He is talking about you, and it makes you warm and fuzzy all over.
Ethan is right, you would say yes.
You duck your head down, pressing against the bars on the stairway.
“I’m okay with you betting on me, take the grand and then take me out on a nice date.”
Peter’s eyes blew up, he wanted to punch Ethan. He also wanted to thank him.
“It’s not like that!” Peter feels his brain melt, stop talking, why are you talking?
You frown, “it’s not?”
Ethan tries to push his head against the wall, his chin poking up high to get a view of you crouched down. “It is like that, you heard him.” He gags when Peter presses his forearm against his throat, it’s not meant to hurt, just silence.
“Well, if it is like that, and I make you nervous, there really isn’t a need cause I would say yes.”
Peter’s arm drops, “come here.”
Ethan takes this as his moment to escape, you watch the stairs as you follow them down, narrowly missing a spilled beer. Peter meets you at the bottom of the staircase, he hands you over the drink he’d been watching.
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
You blinked at the boy, he stood there and looked at his hat on your head. You waited until it started to get awkward.
“If you don’t ask, I will, then I’ll have ripped the rights from you. You’ll have to tell our grandkids you chickened out.”
That doesn’t sound bad to him, but he thinks the least he can do is get the words out.
“I would really, really like to take you out for dinner, is that okay?”
You chew your cheek, “what’s your policy on kissing before the first date?”
“It should be a thing.”
You bite your lower lip to hide your smile, it didn’t work.
“Wanna make it a thing?”
#peter parker x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#peter parker blurb#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker fluff#tasm!peter fluff#my writing#frat!peter
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Dear Advisor,
I tend to be a very reserved and shy person so making friends is super hard. Recently I’ve been wanting to socialize more , but I genuinely don’t know how. Is there any advice that you have that can make me look more approachable and not be scared to talk to people. I’m so stressed about being alone and not having any friends, but I just find it so hard to go up to people and make a conversation. I tried once but it became super awkward. I just really need good advice from someone on how to approach a person and continue a conversation.
Dear Awkward Anonymous,
It would be so easy to get into a whole deep let's-skeetshoot-therapy-on-the-internet session and try to help a total stranger unpack all of the GA-FUCKING-ZILLION ways in which social awkwardness shows up in a person's life. It seems easy, and it even seems meaningful and worthwhile, but to do so I would have to presume a bunch about your life, and make a bunch of assumptions about the ways in which my own experiences maybe/probably track with yours, and it would be a whole big wank-fest, and frankly ... it would be awkward. I'd be like you, standing there at the party, hoping that what I'm saying resonates or lands or even vaguely tracks with anything a stranger has ever known or experienced, presuming (probably rightly!) that it doesn't, and then flailing and blaming myself when I didn't emerge from the interaction with all the world's gold stars.
So here's what: stop talking to other people as a primary social occupation. Going up to people and just talking is fucking terrifying. The Bad Advisor says this as a Certified Extrovert™ who rarely shuts the fuck up.
Instead, find a thing to do with other people that involves some sort of task or goal or activity. Talk about the thing you're doing together, when you're doing it. If it feels okay, maybe introduce one or two of your own relatable-to-the-activity experiences in the process. See who picks up on it. Ask the people who pick up on it genuinely interested questions in response. This is what we awkward people call: engineering a conversation. It is the way, I am told, humans make connections with other humans. I have seen it work in my own life.
Depending on where you live and your ability level and skill set, I bet you have some options! You could seek out an open board game night, pub quiz session, knitting/quilting circle, or mutual aid meetup that's looking for volunteers. Especially look for social activities with strangers that involve a dedicated, pre-prescribed activity (such as a hiking or mall-walking group, stuffing envelopes for a political candidate or cause you care about, planting trees at your local park, or tasting tea/wine/beer/etc.). (Somebody is going to say join a ballroom dancing club or suchlike; I am personally terrified of this, but if you have a higher tolerance for strangers touching you and fewer than two left feet: it's literally an option. Line-dancing, on the other hand ... absofuckinglutely.)
Even if what's available in your area isn't your precise and specific interest, it might be worthwhile to check out something you are decidedly meh about -- you might not be the only meh person there. You can bond over shit that's boring or shitty with other people who find it boring or shitty! Some of my best friends, arguably my very best friends, came out of experiences we mutually loathed or found at least moderately and mutually miserable.
Consider especially finding an activity where you yourself are the manager of operations and/or have a designated task to take care of that is unique to your position! This doesn't have to be complicated or skill-dependent; can you become a voter registrar in your area? Well, bam! You've got paperwork people have to fill out and a good reason to jibber-jabber with folks who have to ask you the questions. Other ideas: join your local neighborhood association board, become a notary public, or see if your local pet rescue is looking for intake line volunteers. Do you have a trustworthy, especially outgoing friend who might agree to play "social glue" for you a couple of times at their activity-centric events? Make it explicit! Ask them if they'll play friendly wing-person for you at their D&D game, fantasy sports league, or some such.
Alternately: Do you have a unique and fun and shareable skillset you can share with others? Are you pretty good at drawing, programming? Simply a font of endless Merlin or NFL or Real Housewives knowledge? You might start a local Discord or other online social group to discuss and share your interests, then move it to the real world in a few weeks once folks get comfortable. You get the idea.
Most of all: Look for stuff that has more-than-just-talking opportunities available outside the designated group jam for you to maintain connections. Perhaps a group chat, a Discord, a Slack, what-have-you, where you can take more time to consider and draft your responses and posts? Connections with humans get made a thousand ways, and talking raw-dog with strangers is but one.
It takes a true social unicorn to be simply good at talking and only talking to other people. There are some of these one-horned wonders out there, to be sure — but let me assure you that the vast majority of folks want to be accepted and seen just as much as you do, and they're staring at the ceiling at night thinking just as much (more, probably) about all the weird, wonky shit they themselves threw at you than they are anything you ever said to them.
#good advice#good advice interlude#socializing#awkward#introvert problems#shy#shyness#get out there we're all fucking squares
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zoro loves his girl in a bikini ☆彡
nsfw content below! ੈ♡‧₊˚
zoro thinks it’s so cute that every stop they make on the ship you have to go and find a clothing store. nami always accompanies you, trying to score a deal with her charm (it’s works most of the time.) so he doesn’t mind leaving your side for a couple hours, knowing you’re safe due to his rigorous training exercises you join in.
after picking out the cutest bikini in the shop, a dark green color that barely covers your tits and ass. you happily skip back to the ship and sun bathe whilst reading a book robin recommended. once you climb aboard the ship, you change into the bikini underneath a coverup. sanji is often pesters you if you want him to make a drink or food.
laying in your favorite spot, you take off your coverup and begin reading. losing track of time, you fail to notice zoro’s heavy footsteps coming closer to you. only noticing when his shadow blocks the sun.
“hey baby. I didn’t hear you coming aboard? you find anything nice?” you politely ask, taking in the view of zoro’s pants right above your face.
“no. apparently you did though.” zoro chuckles motioning at your swimsuit. “looks like the color I wear.” he crouches next to your face, fingers toying with the bikini straps.
“picked it out for you.”
zoro smirks knowing how eager you are to please him. plus he loves seeing you in those slutty little bikinis that you wear. even though they will end up being torn off.
you sit up to talk face to face, sliding a book mark on the page you finished reading. his hands roam your exposed body, drinking in the view.
“wanna see it more?” zoro nods and sits back against a post, placing his swords next to him. you walk away from him and do a quick 360 turn. he parts his legs feeling his dick stir. doing exactly as your boyfriend likes, jumping up and down watching your breasts jiggle, nipple almost slipping out. followed by you bending over and shaking your ass, arching your back.
“come on sweet girl. go show me how much you love me.” zoro unbuckles his pants and pulls out his cock. obediently you crawl towards him eagerly licking your lips.
placing a kiss on the tip of his cock, zoro tucks your hair behind your ear. you stare at him seductively, stroking his cock with both hands that pushes your tits together. feeling your arousal pooling in the tiny bikini, you get yourself off by sucking zoro off. taking inch by inch into your mouth, lips stretched as much as it will allow you. zoro groans at how you hollow out your cheeks and bob up and down. saliva drips down from the corners of your mouth and onto your chin. since zoro is so big, you jerk off the inch of cock you can suck off. he leans forward to slap your ass earning a gasp out of you and pushes your head down further. steadying your body, you place your hands on his thighs.
“love my cock huh? you drunk off of it already?” he taunts but you’re too busy slobbering over his cock. your eyes sting with tears, snot starting to come out of your nose. zoro rests a hand on the small of your body, soothing you.
“y/n-chan! are you okay? do you need my help?” sanji shouts, he must have just come back from the island. grocery bags still in his hands.
“she’s fine mr. nosebleed. busy sucking me off.” zoro nonchalantly answers as you moan around his cock at the fact sanji is watching you please your man.
the blond cook struggles to form words, rushing into the kitchen to stop his nose from bleeding. you stop and take a deep breath, wiping your nose.
“did I say you can stop?” he deliveres a harsh blow to your asscheek. whining at the pain, you focus back on the task of making zoro cum quickly. mainly for him to hurry up and rip off your bikini, fucking you senselessly.
#☆.op drabble#zoro x reader#zoro smut#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro smut#one piece x reader#one piece smut
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hello cherry this is my first time requesting something :)))) i was wondering if you could do a miguel x reader where y/n and miguel get into a big fight because miguel hasn’t been home / hasn’t been letting the reader know when he isn’t going to be there and after their fight y/n goes out to the club to let off some steam with her friends and it turns out miguel is at the club for a business meeting and he spots her and gets a bit possessive (feel free to add anything else you’d like hehehe that’s what im mainly been thinking about )
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: Possessiveness, Suggestive, Slight Praise, Dom!Miguel Vibes
A/N: Hello, love! I hope you enjoy!
Unedited
You were still fuming when he left.
Your cheeks puffed in agitation, glaring at him from the couch as he walked out the door. Horrible timing if you ask him. One second the two of you are fighting about how he barely has time for you with all these meetings, and the next he’s asking for a rain check because he’ll be late for a business conference. Really helping him out there.
It’s left him annoyed the whole meeting, resisting the urge to bang his head against the table and rub his face until it peels off. In all honesty, he doesn’t really need to be part of this meeting. He’s only here for looks, not even expected to know what the meeting is about or add any input. He could be at home, laying on the couch between your legs as he laps at the liquid gold between your thighs as an apology.
Miguel lets out a heavy sigh, the noise getting lost with the loud music that’s giving him a headache. His eyes wonder from the table of men, turning his head to peer over the railing surrounding the balcony of the VIP section. His eyes scan the mass of people, taking in the writhing mass. At his age, things like clubs have lost their appeal, but he knows this place would be something you would like. You’d love to dance to these songs, too.
Miguel hums to himself, making a mental note to take you here sometime soon. His eyes are about to go back to the meeting when he spots a familiar face in the crowd. Or, multiple faces. His eyes zero in on you, your face turned to talk to your friend behind you. The strobe lights light your face in different neon colors, and he straightens up. His eyes stay on you as you walk through the crowd, a drink in one hand and the other slapped over the top as you walk. Good girl.
Miguel is content to have you have this time with the girls, knowing after fights like this you need something to take your mind off of things. But his eyes stray to a group of men near the bar leering over at your group of friends, one of the sleazy fucks gaining courage to walk towards you. Miguel’s expression sours, and he fixes his suit jacket as he stands up. The group instantly stops talking, focusing on Miguel.
“Where are you going?” One of his coworkers ask, brows furrowing in confusion.
Miguel doesn’t spare him a glance, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. “Bathroom.”
The group continues to watch him, slowly turning back to each other and continuing the conversation. Miguel turns his back to them as he leaves, his eyes sticking to where you and your group stand. He can see the fuck walking towards you, and he grumbles when he realizes he’ll get to you first. Once he descends the stairs, it gets slightly harder to spot you. But it isn’t an impossible task with his abnormal height, and he can still make out the vague area you’re in. The crowd parts easily for his intimidating build, and soon enough he’s a few feet away from you.
As expected the sleaze is already with you, mouth moving way too much as he talks to you. Your brow is furrowed in annoyance, and you glare at the man as he talks. Miguel can’t make out what he’s saying, but he can tell you aren’t interested in his shit. Miguel’s stare hardens when the man leans forward, getting into your personal space and whispers something to you.
Miguel reaches you right as you lift your hand to slap him. Miguel’s front presses into your back, his hands acting fast as one wraps around your wrist and the other around your neck to tilt your head up. Your face shoots up to stare at him, the glare in your eyes softening slightly at the sight of him. Miguel’s thumb strokes the pulse point on your neck, calming you down as he stares at the man in front of you.
“Down girl,” he mumbles to you, slowly lowering your hand so it rests at your side.
You make a sound similar to a scoff, but you don’t resist. Your body melts into him, and you turn to hug him when he lets go of your neck. The man looks between the two of you and scoffs, walking off with an irritated grumble once he realizes he’s not getting lucky with you. Miguel watches him go, his large hand stroking your hair.
Once he’s completely gone you pull away from Miguel. That glare is back on your face, and you cross your arms as you stare at him.
“I’m not some dog.” You sass, tilting your chin up.
Miguel hums. uninterested. His hand comes to grab your cheeks, squeezing them together so your lips pucker. The furrow in your brow grows deeper, and Miguel’s mouth twitches at the corner.
“Of course not, mamí,” he agrees. “But you are a brat.”
You begin to grumble a protest but Miguel pinches your cheeks tighter.
“Ah-“ he cuts you off. “Behave and have fun, yeah? I’ll come get you when my meeting’s done.”
Your lips jut out further with a pout, and your grumble something inaudible before nodding reluctantly. Miguel hums, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
“Good girl. I’ll be back”
He lets go of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead before giving you a once over and leaving. You watch him go, trying to ignore the ache between your thighs.
You hate that fucker.
#cherry's requests🍒#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara x you#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099#spiderman 2099 spiderverse#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#miguel o hara#miguel x reader#miguel 2099#miguel spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel o hara x reader#miguel ohara fanfiction#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o hara x y/n#spider man 2099#sm 2099
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play with you instead?
…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………
Chris sturniolo x fmreader
summary: watching Chris preoccupied playing his video games only has you wanting him more and needy for his hands
content warning: SMUT; fingering; subby chris; praise kink; Chris is obsessed; cum eating; no actual p in v
word count: 1.2k words
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
One thing you loved the most about Chris were his perfect hands.
They were perfect in every way. Strong large hands touching every inch of your body. Caressing you and holding you so tight yet soft.
Even when his long fingers fiddled with his gaming controller so perfectly, where he had memorised every button…every switch. Much like him with you. you couldn’t take your eyes of of them. You could only picture the way they felt on you... or better yet, in you. The way he would hold the pages of the booked looking almost identical to the way he has touched you not even a few hours ago. You were practically a drooling mess at the sight and couldn’t take your eyes of him.
A sly smile could have easily been seen on his face; he knows you are watching him again. Or rather his hands. Licking his index finger on purpose he silently chuckles when a little whimper leaves your lips. It wasn’t uncommon for you to spend nights in each other's places due to the comfort you felt around his things, whether you’d be fucking, talking about everything and anything or even maybe just sat in comfortable silence as you were just preoccupied with your phones, or video game, which Chris had promised to play the night before with his friends and brothers and yet got distracted by the others temptation. So, as you sat there eyeing your boyfriend with such lust in your eyes, you tried ever so hard to compose yourself and allow Chris to continue with his task, leaving you to go back to mindlessly scrolling on your phone rather than sleeping.
“Interesting game?” You ask casually yet failing miserably from not distracting yourself with the barely distracted boy in front of you.
“Mhmm, what baby? You jealous I’m playing with this game instead of with you?” Chris says when he sees you only looking back down and that hands that were placed so perfectly around the controller.
“No! go ahead. Tell me about the game or…whatever. Maybe It will help distract me from the other things i have in mind” You tease, smirking to yourself, knowing he immediately understood what you were talking about.
“Oh yeah?” He settles his headset on his shoulders so. He has both his ears able to hear you, he barely gives you a side glance, not letting his eyes leave his game, yet still holding a smirk from knowing the effect he has on you, “and what else is on your mind, exactly?” He asked innocently but with mischievous intent laced in his words.
“Oh, y’know how i wanted to feel your fingers pump in and out of me and have your thumb rub against my swollen clit until I’m shaking and sweating against your chest” you admit nonchalantly, as you hear his let out a small gasp from the chair, he was sat in besides you. Chris didn’t expect you to be so straight forward, and this was enough for him to complete stop his game and let go of his controller down on the desk, practically dropping it with the urgentness he had done it in. what kind of a man would he be to turn someone as needy as you down. He would never admit it... but he loved when you took control. He would love the way you would tell him what to do while you praise him for pleasuring you just the way he knew you liked. May it be his cock, fingers or mouth, he only lived to satisfy you and to make you feel good.
And furthermore, you knew this. You knew that he liked it and who were you to decline a man of his needs, so you had halted the internal arguing with yourself and stood from the bed you were once led so restlessly on, leaving your phone buried amongst the sheets and straddling your boyfriends lap, facing him while staring down into his eager blue eyes which had now darkened even more from lust.
“Who am i to say no to a girl like you then?” He whispers almost with a stutter.
You grinned as you sucked on your bottom lips while you felt those hands pulling your panties to the side from under your skirt, instantly feeling the arousal soaked between your legs.
As you felt him slowly rub against your nub, you let out a long-awaited breathy moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
Chris stared up at you mesmerised as he touched you perfectly, just the way you liked it.
he briskly entered a finger into you while maintaining the steady pace of the movement on your clit. He comes a little bolder with his movements as you grab a tight grip on his messy hair and begins to fuck you at a quicker pace with his finger.
You clench around him, making him glance in at your face. "You feel so tight." He breathes, before inserting another finger into your cunt.
“Yes, thats so good Chris, god... keep doing that” you praise as a proud smile makes his way onto his lips. He watches while his digits disappear inside you as you slowly start to grind down onto his hand, building up more friction. Chris’s cock is now rock hard in his pants as he whimpers at the sight of you absorbing all the pleasure.
Your eyes are now rolling to the back of your head as you feel the build-up in your stomach. Chris speeds up the pace of his fingers, knowing that you were close to finishing, while he continued to flick and play with your clit.
Your had clenches harder on his dark curls as he expertly curves his fingers to hit your g-spot repetitively.
"Chris—oh, fuck." You whine now closing your eyes completely with you face now leaning against the top of his head, panting. “So good...so—shit.” You breathe as you feel you orgasm nearing you even more.
Chris hasn’t even touched his cock, yet he feels like he is going to burst from the erotic sounds and noises that fill the room. Only you he repeats to himself as he impales you with his fingers at an even faster speed then before until finally that coil snaps and you feel your orgasm ride through.
You head falls onto his shoulder as you tremble from the intense wave of pleasure that rushed through you. Chris’s hands continue to help you through you orgasm until you become too sensitive. You let out a final heavy breathe before looking back up at the beautiful boy facing you.
He slowly takes his fingers out of your cunt before putting them between his lips and sucking them clean making your mouth fall open as his eyes roll into the back of his head at your sweet taste.
You gaze at him in amazement before feeling something hard pressed against the inside of your thigh. You grin up at him and then notice his weakened, whiny expression before slowly lowering your delicate hand onto his prominent and very uncomfortable looking bulge. leaning in to whisper into his ear,
“Let’s get you sorted out as well then, shall we?”
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
a/n: thank you so much for reading!! pls lmk if I’ve made any mistakes or something is wrong, i would really appreciate it!
I love you all my angels
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo#smut
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not to be a whore........... but imagine making out with Eddie's buldge through his underwear 😩
🥴🥴🥴 tbh I think there are two different scenarios and I wanted to choose only one to elaborate on but I couldn't so here I go: you're both either too lazy to care and this evolves from a sleepy cuddling session OR you're being needy and clingy, begging for his attention - just a whiny mess basically, and this is all that he's willing to give you. Both detailed under the cut 🥴🥴 (the 2nd one is pure filth, humiliation, degradation etc 18+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
It's summer, Wayne's not in town and you have all the trailer to yourselves. But it's still early, no one's in the mood to party yet, it's hot and you're both too lazy to move.
Eddie's starfish on the bed, a comic book having him completely under its spell, while you lay lazily with your head on his tummy, hoping sleep would envelop you. But it doesn't; Eddie's too caught up with a plot twist he didn't see coming, and ideas start coming to you.
Your eyes fix the outline of his cock and without saying a word, you palm him in your hand, your fingers drawing random patterns on the material of his boxer briefs.
Eddie doesn't react, at least not to your knowledge, but one eyebrow does pop up. You don't see it however and decide to keep going, moving your hand a bit to the side so you can rub the length of his cock.
"Sweetheart?" Eddie lifts his comic book so he can look at you, "What are you doing?"
"Nothing"
You don't even look at him, just keep teasing him through his boxers, until he can't help but tense his thighs. "Love?"
"Yeah?" again, you answer without bothering to face him, but this time you do move. Just in the opposite direction, nonchalantly pressing your lips against his bulge.
The gesture was light, not too sudden or too strong, but the reason he froze for a second is the pure confusion that washed over him. But he doesn't get a chance to ask, because when he feels what you're doing - understands that you're right now literally kissing the length of his cock, he can't help but chuckle.
"Sweetheart, you know I can take those off for you, right?" Eddie teases, one hand on the top of your head as you keep going.
"Nah" you shrug and wrap your lips around his clothed tip. One of your hands slips lower, your fingers brushing against his balls as you start sucking.
"Ah fuck" he gasps. But you don't budge.
You keep at it - licking, sucking, grabbing, your teeth lightly grazing the tip of his cock.
"Baby, damn it" the comic book flies across the room, his attention now fully on you. "You wanna make me cum like that?"
But you don't answer. You just shove your hand up one of the legs of his boxer, cup his balls into your hand, and resume full on making out with his cock.
The sheer feeling of him getting hard under your lips, the way he can barely control his breathing, how his thighs tense and how his abdomen clenches every time you apply just a little bit more pressure, makes you want to see just how far you can go.
Brushing your thumb over the wet patches on his underwear, you look up at him, "Yeah, I wanna. Can I try?"
"Try?" he laughs and rubs your cheek with the back of his fingers, "Darling, you're halfway there"
You beam under his praise and resume your quest, eagerly sucking and tugging through the material as his cock visibly stiffens.
"But then you'll take yours off. You can play around all you want, but you know I can't stop until you've made a mess on my face, doll"
Fine by you.
OR
You being clingy isn't anything new. The planets sometimes settle so that some days the only thing you want is his attention and nothing else. And it's usually not a problem, Eddie being more than happy to oblige and give you what you so desperately crave, but there are also days when that is not possible.
Like this one.
Busy with tasks Wayne left for him, the campaign needing some last minute fixes, Dustin asking for a ride and a Corroded Coffin concert late in the evening - this day is bound to suck for the both of you.
You manage to compose yourself for as long as you can, but by the time you reach the venue for the show, you're almost out of your mind. Begging, teasing, whining, throwing yourself at other men to get his attention - you do everything in your power to get his attention. But you fail. Miserably. As once you finally get home, things don't play out the way you had hoped - at all.
"So fucking desperate, like a fucking whore" Eddie scoffs, plopping down on the couch. He spreads his legs and nods, "Do your thing"
Normally, you'd whine and complain, but your brain isn't cooperating so you listen to his command. You kneel in front of him, undo his jeans, and then helplessly look up at him, bottom lip popping out. "Eddie…"
"Do you need help, kitten?"
You nod.
"Do you deserve it? You acted like a dumb slut all night. Why would I help you? You can't even take my dick out, why would I let you suck it?"
"Please, Eddie…" you cry.
"Look into my eyes, doll" he commands, his hand on your chin forcing you to face him. "Apologize for the way you've been tonight"
"I'm- I'm sorry" you sniffle, "Please-"
"Sorry for being such a cock thirsty whore that you can't even function unless you get to have my dick down your throat?"
"...yes"
"Say it, baby. You need to hear yourself saying it. And look into my eyes while you do it, love. Show me how bad you want it"
"Please, Eddie-" you blink, "I'm sorry for being such a whore, but I need it, please. Can I please, please, suck your cock, please?"
And your pleading might have been enough but you'll never know. Eddie doesn't even get a chance to fully strip before he sees the hungry look in your eyes. "Come here" he motions as he stands up, his jeans now pooling around his ankles. "Show me you want it"
For a second, you look up at him in confusion, but the way his cock stretches the material of his underwear has you feral all over again.
So you don't question it, don't complain, you just get to work. He's hard - throbbing almost, the wet patch of precum making your tongue tingle as you make out with his cock as best you can.
"That's my girl" he grins, patting your head, "My good girl, keep going. Make me cum. If you can do it, you get to swallow it all, baby"
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie x reader#eddie muson fanfic
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