#I literally used to be just skin and bones
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speaking of a cod apocalypse (i think actually idk i just skimmed over my tl) thoughts on the boys becoming some sort of fucked up mutated creatures?
like they're soldiers, right? and assuming the government sends them out to deal with whatever apocalyptic shit there is, surely one of them makes a stupid mistake that'll cost them their lives. fast forward to them succumbing to whatever radioactive shit decided to live in their bodies, and they're dead but alive? and like... just grotesque things. they're still them, just more brutal and monstrous. maybe their skin is melting off, maybe they're growing another limb or two, maybe they have teeth growing on their head.
anyways, thoughts on this kind of genre???? :))))
(i think itd be cool if like.... some of them merged together, just a mass of limbs and skin :33)
Okay, consider: Horizon zero dawn world, full of killer machines and tribes n shit, combined with the virus from the Prototype (that and darksiders are my fav games of all time tbh) also body horror, specifically the blend of machine and flesh bh, is my favorite shit :Dd this is a rough idea
So like as killer machines were sweeping across the planet, devouring everything in sight and replicating, a disease was created that, it was hoped, would be able to infect and eat away at the metal. But it fails, the virus ends up infecting the soldiers that are fighting against the machines and just, combining the human and machine.
The world eventually goes so far to shit that everything on the planet dies. The war machines become deactivated and some of the machine/human mutants are sealed away in bunkers to be used as experiments.
And just like, the 141 becoming a blend of steel and flesh in the grotesque approximation of what they used to be, able to strip away parts of other machines and graft them to their own forms.
Gaz was the first, fighting on the front lines back when he had foolishly believed the killer robots could be defeated. He had gotten separated when he got infected, the fear secondary only to the pain as his flesh literally melted into the corruptors, bone and muscle becoming tangled in gears and wires until all he could feel were his numerous stilt like legs now scrambled to gain purchase on the blood soaked ground . Turned into some weird metal scorpion bellow the waist, weaponry weighing on his back and coolant full wires snaking across his body, Kyle had passed out from the pain, his body further changing in his slumber to grow skin and eyes over the raw metal.
He woke up deep underground in a bunker, turned into a science experiment.
Price was next. He was a soldier turned scientist, working on a subfunction of the teraforming AI that would work to clear the world of the virus that had unleashed. He was the soft voice of comfort Kyle would listen to when they pricked and prodded him, the person Kyle spilled his heart out time and time again.
It came as little surprise when Price became infected. He had started to feel lethargic and sick for the few days, all of it going unnoticed as no one knew how the virus affected humans. That was until he came in contact with a Plowhorn, that changed him into a bulwark of flesh and metal, a living tank with a heavy crest of horns sitting on his head and thick metal plates to protect him.
Price and Kyle kept each other from going insane, figuring out the worst part of the virus — they had become immortal like the machines, but still felt pain like people, pain muddling their brains when pistons and gears would grind against flesh again and again until it regrew in a different way.
They were finally freed when the people experimenting on them died and the AI released the locks of the doors. They emerged hell knows how many years later, taking the first steps into a reborn world that was still crying in it's cradle.
Soap was amongst the first humans to emerge from the mechanical cradle, thrust into a wild and untamed world full of strange machines, with no tools but his hands. While out trying to scavange some of the metal from downed glinthawks he was attacked by Scrappers, ending up infected with the virus that had been slumbering in the earth. Soap became like the sphinx, glinthawk wings attaching to his back with wires, talons merging with skin and pushing out bone, the body of the scraper combining with his own until he was unable to stand on two legs, forced to crawl on all fours and screech in pain through distorted vocal chords until Price and Gaz found him. They took care of him until he was used to his body enough to soar through the air about as well as he could run across the earth.
Simon was the last, born to a tribe that valued strength and worshipped the machines above all. And Simon is the only one who's convergence to steel has any semblence of thought or preparation. He had spent years hunting Fireclaws, tearing off the intact pieces and pistons after every hunt until the shamans of his tribe deemed him ready to become one of the metal gods. The change was slow and painful, bones melting and hardening around new metal, body getting bigger and flesh stretching to fit the new frame, heavy claws weighing on his muscular arms until Simon had become Ghost.
It wasn't what he expected. What he had done in an attempt to fit in amongst his kin served to further push him away as his tribe worshipped him as one of the machine gods, erasing his name as Simon. It was a relief when he met the others, finding comfort in their disfigured and grotesque bodies that looked so similar like his own.
And then you meet them.
Maybe you're a foolish mercenary that stumbled too far into the wild, maybe you're one of the subfunctions of the original teraforming AI that gained sentience. Either way, you didn't fear them, you tried to talk to them, to get to know them even when every societal law of your tribe deemed them as monsters and demons.
And on one random evening, when they had all settled into a rough cuddle pile, scarred flesh over sharp metal creating enough of a cushion for you to sleep in the middle of them all — safe and warm... It occured to them: you are nice, you are kind, and they want to to stay by their side.
#gnome correspondence#trinckets of the hoard#cod mw2#horizon zero dawn#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick x reader#captain john price x reader
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Like a Stone — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish
Y'ALL. I apologize in advance. Literally sobbed writing this one.
Warnings: Unspecified illness, reader death, smut, poorly written Scottish accent.
Here you go, @xoxunhinged!!
MDNI
Any day now.
That’s what the doctors said. Any day now and you would be gone. Dead and gone, a ghost where your body used to reside. To be so young, only just married and so full of potential, diagnosed with the deadliest of circumstances, a waste. And oh, your poor husband, who was so excited to finally have the love of his life to keep by his side forever. How distraught he was to have to stay by your bedside in this dull hospital and watch you slowly shrivel away, resembling more of a corpse than that of his beloved wife.
A dry cough that leaves your lips startles Johnny awake, immediately standing from his chair and hovering above your bed.
“Ye alreit, bon’?” He brushes a strand of brittle hair away from your face, smiling down at you softly.
Your glossy eyes crease with love, admiration, as you look up at him and nod, carefully scooting over to make room for his large body. He wordlessly obliges, settling under the thin sheet and blanket just because you held it up for him. He presses a soft kiss to your cold, chapped lips, nuzzling his nose against yours. It’s a habit that formed after your wedding day—you can still picture those sparkling blue eyes staring into yours, that bright smile nearly blinding you. The memory feels like it’s centuries away, now, although it had just been a little over a year ago.
“I talked to the nurses,” you hum softly, cuddling closer and running your fingertips along his bicep.
Johnny frowns almost imperceptibly, but you pick up on it anyway. You’ve learned more about each other since being admitted into this hospital than in the two years you two had dated.
“Aboot wha’?”
“Johnny…” you whisper, tangling your fingers into the overgrown mess of hair that his mohawk had become over time. “I know you’re going on assignment soon.”
He doesn’t bother to hide his discontent this time, fingertips gently caressing the skin of your sunken-in cheek. You’re practically all skin and bones and it tears him apart.
“We dinnae have tae talk aboot tha’,” he mutters, his heart pounding in his chest.
“The nurses are giving me—us—an hour alone,” you explain gently, eyes scanning his face cautiously. “I… I want you to make love to me.”
Johnny’s breath catches in his throat, and his fingers stall on your face, resting there as he stares at you dumbfounded. Surely you can’t be serious. Not when you’re in this condition—so frail and weak and pitiful.
“Bon’, ah-”
“Please,” you interrupt, eyes glazed over with hot tears that threaten to spill. “In case this…”
“In case it’s the last time,” he finishes for you, his cerulean eyes just as glossy as yours.
There’s a moment of pregnant silence in the air between the two of you. Johnny glances at your heart monitor as the beats steadily increase in pace, before returning his attention back to you and nodding slowly. God, he thought the worst pain in the world was the time he broke his leg in primary school, or getting shot in his shoulder on the field. But this is far worse—the longing in your dull eyes, the coolness of your fingertips raking over his abdomen beneath his shirt. The knowledge that this could very well be last time he ever sees you, feels you.
You’re the first to lean in, lips carefully brushing against his like it’s the first time all over again. The shyness and innocence of it all makes his heart flutter, and he quickly melts into the kiss, large hand cupping your cheek in his calloused palm. He hums softly into your mouth as your lips part, fingernails gently digging into the meaty flesh of his bicep. His hand moves to the side of your neck, then down your arm, eventually meeting your bare thigh. He grins when he feels goosebumps rise on your body, pulling away from the kiss with a soft gasp.
“Ye’re sure aboot this, hen?” He asks gently, voice just lower than a whisper, almost inaudible.
“Yes, Johnny. Please,” you nod quickly, tugging at the hem of his shirt and staring up at him with wide, eager eyes.
Johnny has to fight back tears when he sees your expression. He can’t remember the last time he saw you like this—after the diagnosis, you had been treated and admitted so many times that any intimacy other than cuddling or kissing were long forgotten. He missed this, the beautiful glint in your eyes that reminded him that he was the only one who could make you feel that way. The last one who ever would.
Johnny climbs on top of you but is careful not to put any weight or pressure on your limp body, his lips brushing against yours before lowering to your jawline. The giggle you let out makes his stomach jump, and he can’t help but smile against your clammy skin. His lips trail down your neck and to your collarbones, and with gentle fingers, he helps you out of the flimsy gown. He bites his lip at the sight of you, thinner and paler, but still nonetheless as gorgeous as the day he met you. Healthy or not, he would always be a fool for you.
He cups your breasts in his hands, thumbs gently flicking over your nipples. He smiles softly with content when he hears your little moan, leaning in to kiss you again. You wrap your shaking arms around his neck, fingernails gently scratching at the back of his head. His body is so warm against yours, full of life and hope like you used to have. It makes your head spin.
“Ye alreit?” Johnny feels you tense up and immediately pulls back, worried eyes scanning your face.
His eyebrows unfurrow when you nod your agreement, but his movements are still slow and calculated, like he’s afraid he’ll break you. You shake your head softly, grabbing his wrists and encouraging his hands to move lower.
“Touch me, Johnny. It’s okay,” you grin slightly, leaning up to press a kiss to his clenched jaw.
With trembling hands, his fingers descend down your stomach and rest right above your mound, hooded eyes looking up at you cautiously. Johnny spreads your legs carefully, placing your thighs over his shoulders and pressing soft kisses to the insides. He knows you won’t be as wet as you need to be—the medication you take gives you dry-mouth, and parches you in other inconvenient places. No matter to him. He lets saliva pool onto his tongue before gently parting your folds with his thumbs, letting the warm liquid drip onto you slowly. The gasp you let out makes him grin and squeeze the soft flesh of your thighs gently.
“Is this alreit, bon’? Ye want me tongue?” He questions, peppering kisses to your inner thighs, making sure his stubble doesn’t rub your delicate skin raw.
“Please, Johnny,” you whisper hoarsely, grabbing at his dark hair and tugging slightly, trying to push his face further between your thighs.
He huffs softly in amusement, making sure his tongue has another sheen of saliva on it before swiping a long stripe through your slit. He moans, dragging the tip of his tongue up to your pulsing clit and flicking it a few times. Your legs are already trembling, and he digs his fingers into your thighs to keep you grounded as he dips his tongue into your entrance, eyes shutting once he finally gets a taste of the unmistakable tang of your arousal. Your whimpers are music to his ears, and he takes his time licking and sucking at the sweetness he’s craved for months. In the back of his mind, he wonders if you’d missed this, too. He assumes as much by the way you’re already grinding your hips against him, salty tears streaming down your flushed face.
You whine when Johnny pulls away, and he’s quick to replace his mouth with the pad of his thumb on your clit. With his other hand, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them in his spit and making sure they’re nice and wet before circling the tips around your entrance. He kisses your thigh before resting his cheek against it, oceanic eyes staring up at you in silent question. The need displayed by your quivering lip is all the consent he needs. He slowly slips his middle finger inside, breath hitching as your velvety walls contract around it. He pumps it in and out a couple of times before adding a second finger, wrapping his lips around your clit once more to distract from the stretch. Fuck, he forgot how tight you are, how your walls flutter like they’re trying to kiss the intruder. He flicks his tongue over your clit right as he curls his fingers, and by the way you tug at his hair, he knows he’s found the spot.
“Doin’ so good fer me, bon’. Want ye tae cum on me fingers, aye?” He coos, circling your clit with a flat tongue while he stares up at you eagerly, an almost boyish glint in his eyes.
He curls his fingers against that squishy spot again, and that’s all it takes before you’re seeing stars. Your thighs clench violently, and your back pops as it arches, a soft ringing in your ears as your husband coaxes you through your orgasm. He groans in delight at the taste of you, savoring the gush of sticky cream that coats his fingers. Once your body relaxes, he presses a final kiss to your clit before pulling away. He pants, the heady taste of you on his tongue making him smile as he leans back up to kiss your lips. Dazed and lightheaded, you kiss him back the best you can, fingernails clawing at his back as you try to bring him closer.
“Want you, Johnny, please. Please,” you pant, chest still heaving as you recover from the bliss that you’ve been lacking for months.
Johnny hesitates, though, worriedly gazing over at the heart monitor. The beeping had become more rapid, and it concerned him. He rakes his fingers through your hair, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he waits for your heart rate to return to normal. Once your body has calmed, he kisses your lips again.
“Are ye sure, hen? Ah dinnae want to hurt ye if-”
“Johnny. I need you,” you murmur, eyebrows furrowed as you peer up at him desperately.
Johnny nods, momentarily standing from the bed to remove his jeans and boxers. You gasp softly at the sight of him—you’d nearly forgotten how he looked completely bare, scars that you’d previously memorized like brand new to you, and you reach out to caress them with a feather-light touch. Johnny grins, grabbing your frail wrist and pressing a kiss to the inside before climbing onto the bed once again. He strokes himself a couple of times before helping you get into position, pressing the leaking, dusty-pink tip against your entrance, still slick with your spend.
“It might hurt a bit,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “Tell me if ah’m hurtin’ ye, alreit?”
You nod and reply with a soft okay, hooking your arms beneath his to rest your hands on his shoulders. Slowly, he pushes in, covering your mouth with his own to swallow your gasp. Tears prick your eyes as he continues to penetrate you, your slick clinging to the bulging veins that protrude from his shaft. He’s so much thicker than you remember, the intensity of his girth seating itself inside of you bordering on unbearable.
“Ah ken it hurts, bon’. Ye’re takin’ me so well, so perfect fer me,” he murmurs, kissing away your tears and cupping your clammy face in his hands.
It takes a while for you to adjust, and it feels like losing your virginity all over again. You cling to him tightly as he mutters reassurances and praises into your ear, not moving until you give him explicit permission. He’d wait for eternity if that’s how long you needed.
“You can… you can move now. Please,” you whimper breathlessly, opening your eyes to meet his patient gaze, so full of love for you–his perfect girl.
He waits for another moment before nodding, slowly pulling out until just the crown remains inside of you. With a deep breath, he pushes back in gently, like you’re fine china and he’s a bull threatening to break you. Your nails dig into his tan skin but his mind is focused on how good you feel, how much he wants to make you feel just as incredible as he does. His pace is slow and calculated, and he doesn’t dare break eye contact with those beautiful globes of joy that he fell in love with. Fuck, he’s lost in you, staring like he sees right into your soul, like you’re another part of him.
The longer he studies you, the slower he strokes, unwilling to let go of this perfect moment, the absolute euphoria he can’t find anywhere that you’re not. He sees heaven in the black of your pupils—the future he would never have with you. He always imagined having a family with you, filling up the cozy home he’d buy for you with precious little rugrats. God, he’d be so gentle, always caressing your pregnant belly and kissing your temple, dancing with you in the living room to teach his bairns how to treat a proper lady. He’d watch you grow old together, comfort you as the pair of you becomes empty-nesters, reliving the honeymoon days and reminding you just how much he loves you.
He always thought it’d be him to die first, killed in action or succumbing to the forces of nature in his old age.
He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until he feels you flinch when a teardrop lands on your face. He’s quick to thumb it away, leaning down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It reminds him of your wedding night, how timid you were despite having been with him before, how stunning you looked with your parted lips and eyes clenched shut. He remembers it like it was yesterday, how the two of you fit flawlessly, like your bodies and souls were handcrafted just for one another.
“Are you okay?” You ask softly, pulling back to study his face and wiping away the tears that pool up in those sapphire eyes again.
“Ah’m alreit, bon’,” he whispers through a sad smile, nuzzling his nose against yours once again. “Ah jus’ love ye.”
“I love you, too, Johnny,” you hum, scratching the back of his neck gently, trying to soothe him.
You know exactly what he’s thinking. You’ve spent days, weeks, months imagining how different things would be, had this illness never corrupted you. You’ve come to terms with it, but you know Johnny hasn’t. You’re not sure if he ever will with the way he’s looking at you. All you can do is kiss him again, moaning softly into his mouth when you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy once more.
“I’m close,” you mewl, head falling back against the creased pillow beneath you.
Johnny nods frantically, grunting softly as he thrusts the slightest bit quicker, still worried that he’ll hurt you. But God, he’s so close, too. He needs to feel you clamp down on him just one last time, engrave it into his memory, tattoo it into his brain.
“Me too, sweet girl. Cum with me, aye? Let me feel ye.”
With that, the coil in your belly snaps, and you let out a squeal as you climax. He cups your gorgeous, flushed face between his rough hands, forcing you to meet his gaze as he finishes with you, simultaneous bliss lingering in the shared air between the two of you. Almost as quickly as they came, the highs dissipate, little tremors and jerks taking their place in the afterglow of euphoria. He leans down to kiss you yet again, quickened breaths mingling together. It feels like eternity before he pulls away, a shaky sigh escaping his agape mouth. When he meets your gaze again, he knows. He’s seen the emptiness, that blank, peaceful stare one too many times.
“Ah love ye, bon’,” he whispers, smiling softly when he feels your head turn into the palm that still holds your face.
“I love you, Johnny.”
He pulls out of you for the last time, pressing one more kiss to your quickly-cooling lips. You hum contentedly, and it’s all the closure he needs. He tries to block out the rapid beeping of your heart monitor as he gets dressed, tears streaming down his face as he glances at your still figure, watching as you fall into perfect, eternal rest. He covers your bare body with the sheet and kisses your hair, whispering a final goodbye just in time for the doctors to come in and call the time of death.
Time stands still.
#cw: illness#cw: death#cod mw2#cod#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#call of duty#soap mactavish#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish#cod x reader#sorry for being depressing#Spotify
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There is nothing that will inspire you to try and lose weight more than someone taking a picture of you from the side without your knowledge during a week-long consultant conference and then including that picture in a powerpoint presentation for the SVP over your department (and possibly other high level executives as well).
Yes. this is coming from personal experience.
I would like to say over the past week since I officially started this journey, that I have lost 1 whole pound! (It's about the small, progressive victories, right?)
I might have lost another pound, but one of my coworkers just had to bring donuts to work on Wednesday and I have not yet built up enough willpower to completely resist them. But I did at least limit myself to just 2 (and one of the ham and cheese croissants that he also brought that morning).
#personal#mine#how the hell did I get fat?#when did I get fat?#I remember when people would comment about me being way too skinny!#I literally used to be just skin and bones#and very strong hidden muscles.#I want to get back to that#not quite that skinny but at least closer that than to where I am now#run-on sentence#I used to have those in my posts all the time#back when I was skinnier#maybe using those again will help?#might as well try anything
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Looking his very best, as much as he can anyhow (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#ZEX#The Captain#The theme of this set is ZEX's hair! So I guess Max's hair really lol#But double really it's ZEX's hair because Max would never let this happen to his hair lol poor abused hair haha#Cute floofy ZEX is cute and floofy <3#He can't control the hair - no hair bones here unfortunately lol - but at least there's something around his head eh?#Max with a buzz cut! Ah!!! The problem is I love him no matter what so I think he looks cute literally anyhow haha#S'cold! As if ZEX wasn't already sensitive haha - he gets a buzz cut and is just ''?????'' the whole time#And then someone pets his hair and it upgrades to ''?!?!?!?!?!'' haha#Weird to not have anything in his peripherals too :0 Always /some/thing to the sides of his head!#I think he looks quite silly in the third one lol - I would say I drew his hair too short but it's actually more accurate isn't it#Max's hair is like chin/shoulder-length! I just can't help myself haha long flowing hair is so fun and pretty <3#No he's beautiful however I stand by it#ZEX with slightly damp but not actually clean hair haha of course it feels strange! Not just water in there!#Actually drawing his green ends for a change haha ♪ And the grey in his hair! ;; ZEEEX weh#You can just barely see I tried to use one of my skin-tone pencils from the Crayola set but it doesn't scan the best :P#Or apply the best honestly lol they're quite hard pencils - I'm used to a softer formula like the yellow and green there! Very soft and nice#Yaaay Captain hehe <3 This is what you get for trusting someone untrustworthy ZEX lol#Okay but the way I reacted to reading there was Yarn tied in his hair I had a Normal reaction and I'm Fine about it lol#I made it red for Funsies and no other reason lol - really it's just the pen I (still) always have on hand haha#There's some in my blue as well! Just not as obviously lol - no wait that's one of his colours too just ignore that <3#ZEX is adorable ♪ The alien not understanding human traditions and culture trope is so lovely on him#And honestly the Captain is a very good sport hehe <3 He takes a lot in stride! Good for him
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After getting the books on human maintenance did Clara start getting real food? Is Xavio’s Magic Cum actually making her nerves more sensitive or was she like 200% healing magic scar tissue and this is returning her closer to baseline? Is this part of why Richard the Liondick is so bloodhorny? Speaking of, Garethgoyle 🤝 Lord Bagel, having magic cum.
Onto the Worldbuilding, I’m a big fan of how well you’ve established Xavio’s position within the court. Every diplomat we’ve seen just accidentally letting it slip that it’s only Now a problem bc the people being genocided aren’t just Goblins anymore, bc there’s Barely Any Left. They come and say give us the Beast, kill it, aide in the defense of the people that matter with what’s Left of yours. Seems they like him a lot more now that he’s only a threat bc he has the Beast of Verendor instead of any bigger messier reasons, like being just as powerful and important as them. Anyway I refuse to believe any of His people spread that rumor that he was keeping the Beast of Verendor, Verendor probably did that themselves. They seem like an expansionist empire with shit opsec.
unfortunately for clara, xavio has continued to feed her the approximate equivalent of a nutrient-rich paste. she's not going to starve or get scurvy but variety is a no-go. she's on the brat diet, but liquid. the only rice she gets is congee. she can't be trusted with toast because it might have sharp edges. previously her diet was 90% beef jerky so you can imagine the state of her digestive system. she had a colon like a republican senator. if he'd given her a bowl of oatmeal her first night she might have died.
and as for the rest
(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
#original#hungry thirsty roots#ajskjashdkjads later there will be Developments#but for right now she really did show up so unbelievably fucked up that she is no longer recognizable#fully looks like a different person right down to her literal bones#and this woman really looks at the absolute warzone her body used to be and is like#'i can't believe i'm being bimbofied smh'#... i mean she is a little bit#but the fact that she is now capable of Feeling Sensations is. unrelated actually.#i have been ambiguous on purpose but i'm just going to admit it because it's extremely funny#she's got healthy joints and flawless skin and perfect teeth and fully functional organs for the first time since she was 11#and she's having copious orgasms on the regular#and the idea that this could have her Feeling Things without any additional magical intervention simply does not occur to her
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,
#first off#i don’t know how to tag this because frankly. im not sure if it actually is the thing im thinking of#so uhm . tw s@ and the r word (? again. im not sure if those are the correct terms forgive me)#———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————#i hope that’s enough#so . ive been having these dreams lately#abt my father and this man (i wont say who im sorry)#but i feel like im being haunted by the past and theyre a part of it#father used me as a s/x reliever when i was little#he did stuff to me thats been occuring in my dreams again#with someone i know. a man i know rn#and it makes me want to kill myself. literally#those fucking dreams are about both of them doing shit and i want tofucking rip my skin off my bones#im fine now. all they are to me are fuckers and all but#i want to know if these dreams these fucking nightmares are just me relapsing and fucking whatnot#or something more. something thatll happen.#because these types of dreams are vivid as fuck like i can feel every breathe struggle fucking grope on my skin and it feels so real#these are the types of dreams that tell me itll happen because this happens every time someone will do smth#im scared for fucking life i feel like this body isnt mine and that its his and i want to cut off every limb he ahd his hands on and more i#fuck.
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anyway in case anyone was wondering, yes, i am still thinking about dad asking if i gained weight again so that's fun
#and next weekend ill be at mums again so lots of sweets lmao#cylas speaks#did i say that she literally went nd brought up the fact that she knows im alone a lot as a reason i should take junk food with me#literally just went 'yeah ur lonely and eating most certainly is the solution nothing bad can come from emotional eating'#im sure there are people with eds who give great advice etc#but. yeah. not my mum lmao#like she literally '''gets to''' eat all day cause shes just gonna throw it all up later anyway#sorry i am just really bitter about some stuff#and have bad attitudes towards stuff#i am bitter and disappointed and jealous lmao#she is skinny af#like literall skin and bones#i wouldnt wanna look like her#but. idk.#i dont wanna look like this either#but all hope is lost for me anyway bc i used to weigh more and the skin stretched and it is still there and always will be#ill never be that kinda thin#eating disorder#tw eating issues#tw eating disorder#tw disordered eating#eating disorder tw#ed tw#tw ed
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bathing.
𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).
𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.
𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?
𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.
“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”
Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.
They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.
It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.
The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.
“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”
A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”
“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”
Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.
Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”
(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)
Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.
“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.
“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”
Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.
You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.
Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.
You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?
(You hope so.)
Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.
A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.
The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.
They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.
“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”
Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.
Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.
“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.
“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”
“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”
As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.
The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.
Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.
“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”
They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.
“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”
Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!
“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”
“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.
“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.
You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.
Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#baldur's gate 3 x reader#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#shadowheart x reader#karlach x reader#lae'zel x reader#gale x reader#halsin x reader#tavrem#as they say#this was fun to write#this was very lame actually#sorry but its been so so so long since ive written a fic much less published it
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teeth | l.hc
“fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet”
💿now playing: teeth by 5 seconds of summer
❯ summary: Traditionally the caption of the cheer team and the captain of the soccer team are friends - some even date. But you and Donghyuck definitely aren’t friends - if anything you’re enemies. The two of you can’t go five minutes without an argument. So, why are you letting him fuck you in the locker room?
❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader
❯ genre: college!au, enemies with benefits, smut
❯ words: 2.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, bickering, swearing, unprotected sex (don't do this!), hate sex, degrading names, general name-calling, manhandling, haechan is an asshole, but reader is also lowkey mean, choking, use of nickname 'princess', reader uses she/her pronouns, hardly any plot, it's literally just them hate fucking idk what to tell ya.
cheeky author's note: i'm very brtish, so referring to this as soccer literally made me want to rip my hair out 😀
“You don’t have to be so rough you know, Hyuck!”
"Will you just shut up and let me fuck you!?" He snaps.
The red metal of Lee Donghyuck's locker is cold against the skin of your bare back. Honestly, you don’t even know how it happened. But somehow the captain of the soccer team (and the boy you swear you hate) has you pinned against the boy’s lockers, one leg wrapped around his waist and the top half of your cheer uniform hiked up just enough to give him a full display of your tits. His left-hand grips your hip so tightly that you’re certain he’s doing it on purpose just to piss you off.
Not only that, but he also has your skirt bunched up around your waist. Giving him just the right amount of easy access to pull your panties to the side and tease his cock between your folds.
"Will you just hurry up and stick it in!?" You try to yell at him but, from the way he’s teasing the head of his cock at your entrance, the attempt comes out like a feeble whine.
Exactly on command, the scowl on your face quickly morphs into a wince, and the annoyed quirk on your lips disappears to form a small 'o' as Hyuck’s grip on your hip hardens and he pushes his cock quickly into your cunt. You can’t complain though - you did just tell him to stick it in.
"Shit," you squirm, hand coming up to his chest, pressing hard against the badge of his soccer uniform that rests on his right peck.
"Now look who’s needy," He teases. "I vividly remember you saying I’d be the shittest fuck on the soccer team."
"That’s what this is about!? You’re still mad that– uhh," you’re cut off by your own moan and your nails sink into the fabric of his shirt when he starts to move his hips. His pace is surprisingly slow - deliberately teasing - in comparison to his rapid first thrust inside of you.
"Christ! Even when you fuck you talk too much," Hyuck curses, his hand wrapping around your arm to free himself from the grip you have on his shirt.
"You're one to talk," You hiss back. "Even when you fuck you’re still an annoying little asshol– "
You gasp as he pulls out of you completely and then thrusts into you once again.
"You could've at least warned me, you dick,” You exhale, your walls readjusting to his size for the second time - and what a big size he was.
“Yeah, yeah, spare me the lecture princess.”
You can’t believe that even when he’s buried to the hilt inside of your pussy he’s still calling you that stupid fucking nickname. It’s not the word ‘princess’ itself that bothers you per se; it’s Lee Donghyuck’s intention behind the name that makes your blood blister with anger. He’s been calling you ‘princess’ since your freshman year in college but you’d only ever inquired about it recently.
You were at a party, and even though you hate the bones of Lee Donghyuck, you’d be lying if you said your social circles didn’t overlap. It was inevitable, he’s on the soccer team, you’re a cheerleader; honestly, the two of you should be friends. But you’re not. And because of your strained relationship, it was no surprise that the minute you walked through the door he’d picked a fight with you.
You can't even remember what the argument was about now, but you know the two of you had gone back and forth in a boxing match of insults that always ended with him throwing the word ‘princess’ at the end of his rebuttals. And you really couldn’t quite understand why. In your mind, being called a princess was a compliment, but to Donghyuck, princesses were “spoilt bitches who have no grip on reality.”
Safe to say you didn’t think the term was one of endearment after that.
And it was at that same party where you’d insisted Donghyuck would be the shittest fuck on the soccer team – something you’re currently finding out as being not true as he fucks you senseless six ways to Sunday. In all honesty, even when Yuta had asked you the question in a silly little game of truth or dare, you knew Hyuck was the cop-out answer. Truthfully, your real answer would have been Jisung or Chenle. They’re both a little younger and act more awkward with you. But still, you’d let hell freeze over before letting Lee Donghyuck think he was a better fuck than somebody else. However, you’re pretty sure you’ve broken that promise to yourself from the way you’re breathlessly panting and gasping from the vigorous drilling of his cock. That or hell genuinely has frozen over.
But still, what did he expect? The two of you couldn’t go half a second without a petty argument. Sometimes you find yourself just doing it because you were bored and he was there. After all, it’s just the norm between the two of you.
That’s why you can’t quite understand why he’s taking a stupid comment said in a passing game of truth or dare to heart. You’ve said worse to him, you're sure of it.
Hyuck pulls out of your pussy and the emptiness that lingers between your legs has you groaning – even if it’s just for a second. He doesn’t give you long to harp on the loss of friction because he wastes no time dropping your leg from his hip, gripping your waist and slamming the front of your body against his locker.
You want to make another snarky comment about his roughness, but you secretly love it. Well, it’s not so secret actually — Hyuck is well aware that you like his manhandling because he feels your wetness becoming more slick on his cock as he thrusts into you from behind.
His pace in the new position is still tortuous, slow and teasing, and so fucking annoyingly good. But you don’t know how much longer you can take the tormenting leisurely pace. You want more - you need more. If he didn't have your arms pinned behind you and you flush against the lockers, you’d claw at his back to make him go faster.
You feel a warmth on the nape of your neck as he nuzzles against your ear, placing a kiss so gently, that you’re shocked at the sudden contrast in his demeanour.
“This the shittest fuck you’ve had, huh?”
No.
“Yes,” you reply and he growls deeply. There’s a rough snap of his hips and it catches you off guard so much you have to bite down on your lip to suppress a whimper.
“Fucking liar,” he scoffs.
The insult makes your face screw up in a glare, but still, all you can manage is a breathy, “Am not.”
No matter how good the length of his cock is making you feel, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting he was right – that he’s not the worst fuck on the soccer team. Not that you had much experience with the others.
But even though you refuse to use your words to tell him you’re loving it, your body betrays you by being so fucking responsive to his touches. And no matter how hard you fight against him, Hyuck never lets you gain an inch. In fact, every time you try to free your arms from his, he lets out a frustrated groan, and the sound only makes your pussy throb harder.
His hand slips up your body until it finds your throat, where his fingers dig into either side of your neck. He stops his thrusts.
“Well if you’re not lying, are you saying I’m a shitty fuck princess?” He asks innocently as if he’s about to be gentle with you, but you know better. After all, this is Donghyuck. “If you want to pretend like you don’t want this; if that helps you sleep at night, then fine, but your slutty cunt is so fucking wet, I can almost feel you soaking my balls.”
He ducks down to place a kiss on your jaw, and you feel his lips smile into it as you shudder from his words. Instinctively, you swing your head away from him, only to be yanked back by the hand around your throat. He chuckles against your skin, hips starting to move again, thrusting shallowly into your stretched cunt.
“If I’m such a shitty fuck, I supposed you want me to stop, huh?” He asks in a low voice, lips grazing your cheek.
Noises you’ve never heard yourself make before tumble from your mouth as you moan and sob shamelessly. You try to bite your tongue, try not to fuel his ego, but his rhythm is too good at tearing down your guard, which is why you find yourself crying out, “Please don’t stop!”
He laughs, fucking you harder and faster, the stings of pain from his cock hitting you so deep morphing into a hot ache of pleasure that coils tighter and tighter in your core.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls.
His fingers, still on your throat press into your skin, not hard enough to cut off your air supply but just enough pressure to force out strangled moans. Your shoulders rub against the coarse material of his soccer kit, grounding you against him as he fucks you in punishing thrusts.
You don’t want to admit it, but your body can’t resist it.
“Fuck, gonna cum,” you mumble, eyes squeezed tight together.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me like a good little slut?” he murmurs into your temples
The low rumble of his voice has the tension in your core ratcheting higher, pushing you closer to your release. Your head feels like it’s floating as the tight spring in your stomach coils until it finally snaps and has your knees buckling beneath you.
Hyuck keeps his speed steady, fucking you through your climax and savouring the way your walls clench around him in rigid spasms. Your orgasm triggers his and he clenches his jaw.
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum,” he ruts into you harder, and all you can do is moan for him.
“Please,” you whimper.
He chuckles at your submission - he’s never seen you like this before - so needy and desperate. He didn’t think it was possible to love anything about you; but this right here, you fucked out and pleading for his cum, yeah, he fucking loves it.
He ruts into you a last few times with thrusts that are wild and more frenzied, his thighs slapping against your ass. He contemplates cumming inside of you, but he figures he’d save that for another day since the two of you had forgotten about a condom and hadn’t really discussed it.
And…did he just think about having sex with you again?
With a loud groan that rattles against the metal in the empty locker room, Hyuck pulls out of your cunt and jerks his cock until he’s cumming onto the small of your back. Unable to stop yourself, you moan softly and a stupid smile spreads across your face when you hear him sigh.
After that it's silent, only your rapid breaths echoing in the room. He’s pressed against you, face buried in your neck, holding you and your weak legs in place. You stay like that for a beat, but then you remember who it is that’s just fucked you.
Without any more hesitation, you shake his grip and push him away from you. "Christ! Stop breathing down my neck. Fucking gross."
If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s your arch nemesis you would have stayed tangled up in him a little while longer, letting yourself get soaked up in the fact that that was the best sex you’ve ever had.
As you turn around to face him, he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on his face.
“There’s a towel in my bag if you want to…”
You scoff, “How chivalrous of you.”
You pull the towel from the bag in his locker and start wiping at his cum on your back. Your body is turned away from him but you can still feel his eyes lingering on you as you wipe away.
You stop to look at him, “What are you still doing here? We have a game in like 10 minutes. Shouldn’t you be like…warming up or something?”
“I think I’m already warmed up,” he mumbles and you shake your head with a smile, going back to cleaning yourself off.
“Seriously, get on the pitch,” you demand when you see him still lingering.
There’s a hand in his hair, scratching his head and he looks a little flushed. You never see him like this, it’s weird. The Hyuck you know and loathe is cocky, smug, arrogant, all of those kinds of words; but the one in front of you looks so awkward, flushed. Is it weird you kinda like it?
“Are you waiting for me to tell you you aren’t a bad fuck or something? Seriously Hyuck, get lost,” you try and joke, pulling down your cheer uniform.
“No..I…” he stumbles.
You groan, “Oh no, don’t do this. Don’t make things weird.”
“I’m not—”
“Can’t you just be like a normal guy and…I don’t know, say it felt good to fuck me like you hate me or some shit?”
His eyes sweep over your face as if he were studying you. His face softens and he steps closer.
“I mean I could say that, because it felt fucking amazing actually,” he says and you swallow thickly. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”
You pause, freezing as he comes towards you. You don’t even register how close he is until you feel his breath on your lips and his chest against yours.
“What?”
“I don’t actually hate you that much,” he admits, and your eyes widen.
“Yeah right, funny joke,” you roll your eyes and laugh sarcastically but he’s not laughing with you. In fact he’s just looking at you, deadpan, and it’s starting to freak you out.
When you realise that he is in fact serious, you cross your hands across your chest.
“You’re not gonna start doing all that cheesy shit they do in the movies, where you profess your undying love for me, and tell me you never really hated me and it was all just a miscommunication, are you?”
“Fuck no!” He almost gags at the mention of it. “Just because I said I don’t hate you that much doesn’t mean I like you? Are you crazy?”
“Well I’m just making sure,” you poke his chest.
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “But I do wanna do this again…” he trails off so quietly that you wouldn’t have heard it if there was anybody else in the room with you.
“This?”
“Yes, this. Us. Fucking,” he explains. “I fucking hate you, but fuck, I think I love your pussy.”
#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#haechan smut#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#haechan x reader#nct hard hours#kpop smut
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currently thinking abt satoru who’s into size humiliation and needs to be bound and cucked once in a while. it doesn’t matter if he’s small, average, or simply big but smaller than the other guy in the room. your boyfriend throbs when you tell him he can’t satisfy you, can’t fuck you as good as other men can because of his dick. he cries the prettiest tears when you make him rut into a pillow while you use a toy on yourself because he’s not big enough to fuck you. and he looks adorable when he watches you get fucked so hard and good you’re drooling, his dick drooling pre onto his stomach as much as you’re making a puddle in the sheets.
“suguru, fuck - ahh! so b-big, y’so fuckin’ big, holy shit, please don’t stop,” you moan.
your babbling has satoru whining and bucking his hips next to you, pulling on the restraints of his wrists above his head. “please, can i try? need you so bad, baby, pleeasee.”
suguru grips you by the hair and pulls up your fucked out face for satoru to see. “you really think you can give her what she needs, satoru? think that pathetic dick of yours is good enough for a pussy like this?”
satoru’s cerulean eyes turn glossy, cheeks red. “yes, been so so good, please, i-”
“shut the fuck up,” suguru says. he leans down into your ear, his pace hardly faltering. “tell him what you said earlier, princess.”
“p-pussy is for big boyyyss,” you slur, all the taunt in your words gone under the weight of suguru’s long, fat cock.
“that’s right. pussy is for big boys, not whiny brats with baby dicks,” he replies.
suguru lets your head fall back into the sheets. he grips your hip tighter and somehow plunges into your sopping cunt harder from behind, skin clapping so loud and fast it’s ringing in your ears. you cry out his name and your eyes roll.
“give satoru your hand, angel,” suguru says.
you whine, bones like jelly underneath him.
he grins. “i know, s’hard to move when i fuck you like this, huh? c’mon, you can do it.”
with the strength you have left, you reach your hand over and wrap it around satoru’s aching, leaky cock. you give a few weak strokes.
“thank you, fuck, thank you.”
“that’s a good girl…. just relax, okay? satoru knows what to do,” suguru coos.
satoru’s hips push into your hand as he whines. he sets a sloppy pace, trying so hard to fuck your hand in time with suguru’s punishing thrust into your cunt.
“yeah, that’s it. try to fuck her hand half as good as i’m fucking your girl. maybe you can fuck her pussy next if you don’t cum all over yourself.”
that, unfortunately for satoru, was all it took for him to spill ropes of white, hot seed over your fingers and up his torso with a groan.
suguru huffed a small laugh. “fucking pathetic.”
gremlins: @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @bookcluberror @zazter-den @neon-gothicc @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @yazt09 @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @223princess @honeeslust @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem @levizonlywife @kxtsxkii @katsuslover @nuttyunknowndetective @yooxverse @jjamiee21 @levis-fav-brat @heartofjasmina
#i’ve rly been on a humiliation kick lately#this was supposed to be dom/switch reader but i failed lmfao#x reader#f!reader#jjk#jjk smut#stsg x reader#satosugu x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#gojo satoru#geto suguru#jjk x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#bakubunny#getou suguru#satosugu#satosugu smut#stsg#stsg smut
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࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 — 𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆. ˒ ⊹
syn. you think jealousy is a good look on aventurine. too bad he has to remind you that you belong to him, and him only. (1.8k)
pair. aventurine x f!reader
cw. jealous aventurine my beloved / fem-aligned reader / pet names used: pretty girl, doll, angel, princess, good girl / oral (f!receiving) / fingering / teasing and begging / prone bone / spanking (like.. one time) / p in v penetration / creampie / multiple rounds are insinuated. teehee.
love, oak! loooorrrrrdddddd aventurine. i've been obsessed w him since he was mentioned in topaz's quest ♡. about to start the penacony quest now, i'm literally buzzing w/ excitement over seeing him!!!!!!!
MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.
aventurine thinks he can be a little bit... petty, sometimes.
but of course, who wouldn't be, when one sees some random stranger putting their hands all over what's theirs?
so obviously, aventurine does the one thing he does best.
put on a show.
"hey, pretty girl," aventurine drawls, sidling up to you as he slides an arm around your waist. the grip he has on your hip is near-bruising, the only indication that he was currently ticked off. "you tired of this bar yet? i'd like to leave soon." his voice is a soft croon as he brings his lips to your ear, warm breath brushing the sensitive skin there. "i've got better things for us to be doin' in mind."
you gasp, playfully slapping his chest. your attention is completely off the man you were just chatting up, and aventurine shoots him a lazy grin. the man merely grumbles and leaves.
it makes him feel pure satisfaction, really.
aventurine turns you in his grip so that you're chest to chest with him—forces you to tilt your head back to look up at him. he smiles prettily down at you, as if he weren't just scheming to whisk you away from all the attention you were just receiving.
"better things, huh?" you say, glossy lips forming a matching grin to his as you look up at the blond. "like what? that man was just about to buy me a drink, you know. how're you gonna make up for that?"
he nearly lets his perfect mask slip—a twitch of his eyebrow is all you notice. but he tilts his head, looks down at you with those pretty lavender eyes of his.
"oh doll, if you wanted a drink, why didn't you just say so?"
your eyes gleam with mischief. you trail your fingers up his chest, your lips pursing in a pout.
"it's more fun charming a guy into buying it.." you sigh dramatically.
"who says you haven't charmed me?"
"no one. everyone knows i've already got you wrapped around my finger."
he can't argue with that. no, he can't argue with the irrefutable truth.
because you do. he's wrapped around your pretty little finger, and you know it. you exploit it. he doesn't mind, though.
aventurine doesn't deal with what doesn't pay off. and in the end, a pretty thing like you always does.
so he smiles again, tilting your chin up with a gloved finger. he lets a little bit of the hunger he feels shine in his eyes—he basks in the way your eyes shutter, your red-painted lips parting slightly.
“how about this, then—will you let me charm you, pretty?” he purrs, thumb coming up to gently tug at your bottom lip.
your throat bobs as you swallow. a shallow nod of your head follows—as much as he’ll allow while he grips your chin.
“good. you know how great i am at making your dreams come true, don’t you?”
there’s no room for debate there, nor does he give you any; aventurine’s smug demeanor is never undeserved, if the way he has you grasping the sheets of his bed later is concrete proof of that.
“’venturine,” you whine, back arching off the ruffled white sheets of the bed, “please, need you inside me, noooow.” the last word comes out in a long moan as his fingers stroke just the right spot inside of you. a flick of his tongue against your puffy clit draws a cry of pleasure from your lips.
he hasn’t even taken his clothes off yet, and he already has you a mewling mess for him. again, he feels that familiar sense of satisfaction flow through him.
aeons. he loved seeing you so debauched, flushed and squirming beneath him as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you.
“c’mon angel, one more time for me—you can do it, can’t you?”
the low drawl of his voice is drowned out by the lewd squelch of his fingers inside you, constantly moving and stroking your walls in just the way you liked it. at this rate, you were going to go insane, but you feel your climax cresting, rising up and up and up, until it comes crashing down with a particular crook of his fingers inside you. he doesn’t let up, doesn’t grant you any mercy as you sob and convulse with pleasure. “’venturineee!”
finally, finally, he stops, withdrawing his fingers (his sleeve is completely soaked with your essence, he notes smugly) and rising after a swift kiss to your sweet pussy. you lay there, a puddle of nerves still buzzing with pleasure.
the clink of his belt and the rustle of fabric falling to the floor, and then you’re being maneuvered so gently, rolled onto your front with large, gentle hands. there’s a pillow being slid under your hips, another for your pretty head, and then you feel the bed dip with the weight of aventurine settling into place right behind you.
you let out a soft cry as you feel the blunt head of his cock rub against your still too sensitive cunt, his hands gripping the plush globes of your ass as he spreads you for him. he loves the little sounds you make as he teases you, dipping the tip in but never quite going any farther than that.
no, he wanted to hear you beg for it.
“what do we say when we want something, princess?” aventurine hums, drawing the tip of his cock through your slick folds, achingly slow.
“oh,” you sigh sweetly. “need you to fuck me. please, ‘ven, need it so bad.”
your plea is like sugared candy on his tongue, a torturous substance he’s addicted to as he allows himself to slowly sink inside you. he takes his time—you’re whining and squirming beneath him, and he has to hold you still with firm hands—but only goes as far as an inch, shallowly moving his hips.
“like that?” he asks coyly.
you look over your shoulder to glare at him. at the nasty look you shoot him, his eyes narrow; he lifts a hand, only to bring it down on the sensitive skin on your ass. you let out a yelp.
“now, now, only good girls get what they want. you’re a good girl, aren’t ya?”
you respond with a desperate whine. aventurine knows when you’re reaching your limit though, and like the good person he is, he’s decided he’s had enough fun torturing you. besides, he’s nearing his own limit—the walls of your cunt just feel so delicious around him—and it’s taking a willpower of steel to not pound you into oblivion right then and there.
aventurine sighs dramatically, hands drifting up your spine, ghosting along your back. he likes the way you shiver beneath him, completely helpless to his whims. he’s quiet for a moment, drinking in the way you’re breathing harshly beneath him as he lets himself dip a little further into you, and then: “alright, i’ve teased you enough. you’ve been so good for me.”
the words are like music to your ears—as well as the only warning you receive before he’s gripping your hips, lifting and adjusting you so he hits just the angle he knows you like, and he starts a brutal pace that rips a harsh moan from your lips.
he’s absolutely unforgiving in the way he fucks you, but he knows it’s just the way you like it. searing, molten heat flows through your veins with every stroke, nerves like lightning as you’re overwhelmed with the all-consuming sensation of aventurine all over you. it’s not just the way he fucks you—the way he presses his chest to your back as his hips rut into you, the way he has you completely pinned, rough hands spreading you oh-so perfectly for him, the way his lips press to the nape of your neck, his breath ghosting along your skin as he groans, right up in your ear.
“fuck—you’re so fucking tight, pretty—yeah, you like this, don’t you? can feel you clenchin’ around my cock.” he makes a point to thrust his hips especially rough at the end of each sentence, coaxing a long, desperate moan from you. you’re mindlessly babbling at this point, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he fucks all sense of sanity from your head.
and when he snakes a hand around you, brushing down your navel towards the apex of your thighs, you let out a broken sob as deft fingers find your clit. paired with each perfectly aimed thrust, you’re coming undone beneath him in a matter of seconds, walls convulsing around him.
“where do you want me, angel?” aventurine coos in your ear. his voice is raspy, lust-drunk and breathy as he struggles to hold himself together, to stave off the orgasm he knows is imminent.
“inside,” you gasp out. “wan’ it inside!” your words slur together as he fucks you through your own orgasm. you feel electric as his hips start to stutter, your only other hint that aventurine is close, so so close, and you want him falling with you. so you clench the delicate muscles in your pelvis, walls fluttering around his cock so perfectly, it feels like life and death and infinity and oblivion all at once.
he presses deep inside you, holding you so tight to him as he cums, hard, just the way you wanted him to. you clutch the pillow under your head to ground yourself, muffling the moan you let out as his hips twitch and then eventually pull away, drawing himself out of you. the sensation makes you hiss softly, displeased at the empty feeling he leaves you with.
aventurine smiles at the sight—of you, blissfully fucked out on his bed, hips still slightly raised from the pillow as his cum drips out of you. it might’ve been obscene to some, but he was so utterly fucking obsessed with you that really, it’s got him ready to go for another round.
he only gives you a moment to catch your breath.
then you’re being flipped over, aventurine slotting himself between your legs, his already hard cock pressing against your messy cunt. he smiles down at you, a purely predatory look in his eyes as his gaze meets yours.
“don’t tell me you’re tired out already, princess,” he drawls, basking in the way your sleepy eyes widen with shock. “you’ve gotta cum at least a couple more times before i’m satisfied. i’m gonna make sure my name is the only one you remember, ‘kay?”
and as he slides into you, torturously slow, you realize that you might just be in for a long night.
please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
#honkai star rail smut#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#hsr smut#aventurine x reader#aventurine smut#☆ oakie writes#good morning yall
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Soft
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem! reader
Genre: fluffy smut, 18+
Warnings: sleepy soft domestic sex, oral (m. receiving), praise, cum swallowing, face fucking, soft cheol, mentions of butt stuff (this is becoming too frequent), mentions of thigh riding, begging, dom-ish cheol, sub-reader
Length: 1.5k
Note: inspired by this soft thought. like i literally haven't stopped thinking about domestic cheol the past few days and just loving that man up so here is a short fic to get it out of my system. not proof read!!!! also @bbychocolat thank u for ruining my night with domestic cheol thots
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
The winter chill seeping through the window bites against your nose as your boyfriend traces the cool tip of his own against your cheek. Pinned under the weight of his body and the blankets, you float into bliss; his slightly chapped lips repaying all the kisses you loaned him minutes earlier.
Beyond your entangled bodies the bed feels infinite. There's nothing in the world beyond you and Seungcheol. The world is quietly holding its breath as you comb your fingers through his hair.
You urge him to stay on the next pass of his mouth against yours. A gentle suck of his lower lip is all it takes to convince him he's right where he needs to be. His hand caresses your face, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. Your eyes open and meet his when he manages to pull away. Something more than words could ever convey passes between you.
A gentle prod against his shoulder rolls him into the sheets next to your body; the hood of his sweater falling back to reveal the mess of his hair. Longing aches in your heart from his soft face and pouting lips. You’d sit in his lap and kiss him for the rest of time if he asked. If he wanted the moon, you’d find a way to give it to him. Anything for him to keep looking at you the way he is now.
Dipping down, you reconnect your mouths. The wash of his tongue across your bottom lip is soothing as a stream.
His hand doesn’t stop stroking the back of your neck, thumb massinging against the knob of bone at the base of your skull. The juxtaposition of your boyfriend’s strength and how he always treats you as something fragile makes you dizzy.
It’s too cold to undress so you settle for pulling Seungcheol’s hoodie up his stomach. Each inch of skin revealed drives you further down into the pit of desperation blooming in your stomach.
Your lips trace the bottom of his ribs, across the softness of his belly and the slightly raised jut of his hips. The urge to cover him in dark bruises and bite marks sings through your blood but you’ll save it for another time. Right now, you want to worship every piece of your man with the softness he usually bestows on you.
His ticklish laughter curls against your ears when you lick the raised vein below his belly button. The smile against his skin only makes him curl up further.
“Cheollie,” you snicker, fingers soft against his sides.
“Don’t start.”
It’s a warning. He hates being tickled. The first time you found his weak spots, Seungcheol had to pin you against the bed and distract you with something else for you to stop.
And as tempting as that is; it’s still not what you want.
You mouth against the bulge hiding under the fabric of his pants, hot breaths puffing through to his cock. Following the lean, you suck around the tip until his gray sweats are soaked in your spit on one side and his pre-cum on the other. Every twitch of your lips has him swelling until his hands rush to shimmy down his sweats and underwear.
Seungcheol slowly feeds you each inch of his cock, eyes never leaving your own even as you drool into his lap the way he likes. The slick of his cum satisfies you the way nothing else can; the cure for a part of your brain always desperate for your boyfriend to use you.
“So good,” he croaks.
Each lap of your tongue against his length takes him higher, but your desperate whimpers whispering up to his ears are the best part of this. You lick gently at the head, sucking up your reward until Seungcheol’s brain melts out of his ears.
He knows how much you like his hands, his fingers, and never shies away from reminding you of that fact. Especially in a position like this were your eagerness to please possess every cell in your body.
One hand lands on the side of your face, thumb hooking in the split of your lips to stretch your mouth wider around his cock before he forces you to take it. The other finds the back of your head, a silent possessiveness sneaking into the hold.
You test the waters by lifting as far up as you can, almost to the point his cock slips from your mouth, only to find your boyfriend’s firm hand guiding you back down. The please hum budding in your throat makes both his hands squeeze gently in acknowledgment.
A tight fist helps him along, your thumb working along the thick vein webbed on the side of Seungcheol’s cock. Each smoky rasp of his voice lulls you further down. Every praise and sigh whispering across your spine, heating your core.
He bucks when your hand disappears and you try to force the last inches across your tongue. Your face is a wet mess of spit, cum, and tears. Eyes round as you watch Seungcheol’s mouth twist in pleasure when you suck him deep, nose dusting against his pelvis.
The blood in your brain thickens to syrup as he holds you there, throat tight while you choke.
“You’re perfect,” Seungcheol groans through a lazy smile, eyes glazed.
You come up for a quick breath before falling back down. The heat of his palms control your pace, gentle but firm. Not as deep as you can go but far enough you gag if you don’t focus.
The next stroke leaves you scrambling when his cock pops out of your mouth to land on his stomach. A hand manages to catch him but Seungcheol’s own on your cheek keeps his cock just out of reach.
"Stop," you keen, aching in your bones to get lost in the rhythm and taste again.
A thumb silences your protest, curling down on your tongue until you suck on it instead.
Seungcheol knows you’d do just about anything he asks right now. If he said he wanted to fuck your ass, you’d bend over and present yourself without reservation. If he told you to ride his thigh until you came you’d leave his pants soaked. If he wanted to paint your face with his spend... well, you'd probably beg him to before he gets the chance to say the words. It’s thrilling.
His hand not fucking your mouth moves to grabs his cock. Streaks of shine trail across your lips as he traces it around your mouth, his thumb still dug into your tongue to keep you from sucking him back in. Gurgled pleas fall apart as he slaps your cheek with his cock and leaves you covered in more traces of him.
“Gonna let me cum here?” Your boyfriend asks, prying your mouth open to give you another taste before pulling back again.
A tear washes down your cheek as you respond, hands wrapping around his wrists as if you can outmatch his strength and keep him in place.
“Please.”
He can’t say no with the way you present your tongue. Flat and waiting.
You meet him halfway as he thrusts back home. Sloppy claps echo across the room as he fucks your throat until the end rushes him like a riptide.
His hips lift off the bed and into your mouth as he cums, the taste pulling desperate moan after moan out of your lungs. There's so much. Every hot rope flooding your mouth, excess pushed out the corners of your lips for you to collect later.
You keep going, even though your boyfriend is spent and twitches from each lap against his softening length. A pathetic whimper vibrates against his tip when you rub it against your swollen lips, glossing them in his cum, before you swallow him back down.
He loves you like this. Mesmerized by his cock, so desperate for his cum you can’t help yourself. Seuncheol knows if he pushes you off there's a very real chance you’ll cry so he happily lets you continue despite the discomfort. The thickness of his cum spreading across his spent cock used to be uncomfortable as you held it in your mouth. But a late night with you bent over his lap made him privy to your perversions. How you came that much harder when he fucked you with his cum as lube before spilling another load inside you. If he can get hard again, he'll make good on it like he always does.
But he can tell by the way your eyes slip shut and your breathing slows that you’re far too tired to take him a second time.
When you’re satisfied, content that you’ve taken all he’s got to give, Seungcheol hauls you back up to his chest. More adorning kisses tickle your face, each slow and pointed. You know how he feels just by the way he touches you, even if he hasn’t said it yet.
--
Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
#svthub#seungcheol smut#scoups smut#seventeen smut#seungcheol x reader#scoups x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt smut#🫡 highvern
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FACE MASSAGE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori
You give your boyfriend a nice, relaxing face massage when Sukuna, being bored out of his mind, takes over Yuji’s body.
cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna — 1,3k words
a/n: alrighty, this one I wrote randomly thinking of how the lines actually are quite a good guide for a face massage (also, if you never had face or a scalp massage, you're missing out!). i usually write Sukuna as his separate person, but here he's in a vessel. it's nothing but purely fluffed up piece of late-night babbling, enjoy 🩷
It was already late, the clock showed almost 11pm, but you were not asleep. Yuji had just gotten home, taken a shower, and breathed out loudly, whining to heavens about how he had worked his butt off during the training session with Gojo. Your boyfriend came back all tired, and the hot shower didn't do much to soothe his strained muscles.
"I'm soooo tired," he whined again, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable pout his lips had formed as he walked into the room you shared with him.
"'My poor thing," you cooed, kissing his forehead as he sat down next to you. "How about I give you a little face massage?"
"Yes, please," Itadori nodded vigorously and you giggled as you instructed him how to position himself and when you had his head comfortably over your lap, you warmed up a nice portion of face cream in your palms.
"Relax for me, baby," you told him, and he closed his eyes the moment your fingers made contact with his skin.
Yuji loved the magic your hands performed upon his aching muscles, and he found head and face massages particularly relaxing, so it wasn't surprising when he began to doze off in a matter of moments. With him half-asleep, you could take your time to admire the boy who had shamelessly stolen your heart with just one of his wide and extremely kind smiles, and as you glided your fingers smoothly across his forehead, down his temples, cheekbones, and jaw, you fell in love all over again. At first you were extremely gentle, stroking along his features, warming the skin as you went, before applying more pressure to the knots under his skin.
You rubbed small circles across his forehead, paying a little more attention to the space between his eyebrows and near his temples before lowering your hands to work the lotion into the large muscles over his cheeks. Using your thumbs, you forced the tension away with enough pressure to make Yuji purr softly. Then something unexpected happened. Black, tattoo-like lines appeared under your fingers and you slowed your movements, startled by the sight.
You knew that there is a curse living rent-free in your boyfriend, and you've seen Sukuna before, but he had never come out like that, for no reason, without a fight, without a single trigger, so you had no idea what to expect.
"Continue," he ordered, and you swallowed, pressing your fingertips back to his cheeks. Ironically, the lines that adorned his face made for a perfect guide for the massage, and you unconsciously followed them.
"Is there a reason for your appearance now?" you asked cautiously, keeping your fingernails away from the extra pair of eyes as you brushed over the bones beneath them.
"Nothing in particular," he replied lightly, looking up at you as his expression turned more serious. "Although I don't like you looking at me from above."
"You're literally on my lap."
"That's why I'll allow it, once. As for why," he relaxed his face again as you slid down his cheeks to work the muscle around his mouth and along his jawline. "Can you imagine how bored I am inside this brat?"
"I'm afraid not."
"You can't, that's right." A sigh left Sukuna's mouth. "What a pity, I'm bored out of my mind."
"I see, but please don't tire Yuji any more, he's already exhausted."
"You should worry about yourself rather than him being tired."
"I probably should, but if you were to decide to kill me now, you wouldn't get to experience the wonders of my scalp massage, so if you're okay with such a loss..."
You were really pushing his buttons here, being way too brave for your own good, but he seemed comfortable with the situation, which gave you hope that you wouldn't be decapitated anytime soon.
"Proceed then, and I'll make my decision afterward."
You finished his facial massage with a few light strokes along his features and wiped your hands with a tissue to remove any excess cream that hadn't absorbed yet, before you sink your hands into his hair. "Could you flip over to your stomach?" Once that was done, and Sukuna turned almost too obediently as you guided his head back to your lap, you used your fingers to brush through his blush-toned hair, pushing it back and purposefully scratching the skin between the strands as you dragged your hands to the nape of his neck. Once again, you used circular motions and quite a bit of pressure to stimulate the circulation and relax the tense muscles. You knew it was pleasurable, you knew how Yuji's body reacted to your touch and the fact that it was the King of Curses at this moment couldn't change that. The only thing different was the silence, which would normally be filled with constant mewling and whimpering from your boyfriend, but you couldn't expect those from Sukuna. Frankly, you'd be startled if he suddenly started purring.
As you worked your magic, the man remained calm, his cheek pressed against your thigh and his arms behind your back and around your legs, and it didn't really bother you too much. His touch was almost non-existent, he just kept his hands there because they had to go somewhere.
"Do you find this acceptable?" you asked quietly, lowering your fingers to graze the back of his neck. Your thumbs slid down the line of muscles that connected them to his shoulders, and he moved his arms down, giving you more access to that area.
"Acceptable is a good term," he muttered, exhaling deeply as you firmly squeezed the shoulder muscles, working out the tight knots there. Normally, this would turn Itadori into a whining mess, needy of affection and ready for endless cuddles, but for Sukuna, you put more effort into what you were doing. It felt strange. Technically, it was still your boyfriend's body that you had touched many times before, but somehow it felt like you were massaging a foreign man. Even though your fingertips knew the dips and curves of his silhouette, your mind found it hard to process.
Lost in thoughts, you let your hands go lower, onto the shoulder blades and near the spine, following the line down, working your palms into his toned back, only snapping back to reality when one of your hands brushed over the stitches. Oh yes, Yuji had injured himself the day before and because of Shoko's absence, he had to have the wound stitched up. He shouldn't be training with that at all, but he's so stubborn...
"Sukuna?", you addressed him quietly, trying to sound as respectful and polite as possible.
"What do you want?" he replied, his voice indifferent, but he knew from your tone that you needed something from him.
"There is a wound on Yuji's back. Could you heal it so that I can massage that area as well?"
“I don’t mind the pain. I don’t feel it,” he informed bluntly.
“But I can’t massage over stitches. I know it’s nothing for you, so pleaseee?”
"You're pushing your luck, you know that, right?" Sukuna laughed. Oh, how sneaky you were, he loved it, and it's only because he really enjoyed the massage that he granted your request. The sewn-up wound healed before your eyes and black stitches fell away. Your whole face lit up as you ran your hand over the spot.
"Thank youu," you smiled, and as if on autopilot, your body bent forward. You planted a soft kiss on the top of his head before you could think twice and only realized what you'd done when it was too late. Oh. "I'm sorry," you muttered quickly.
"You're so fucking clingy," he scoffed. "Humans..."
"Don't be mad, I'm just grateful," you cooed, returning your nails to his scalp to hopefully distract him from wanting to cut you to ribbons, and it seemed to do the trick as he melted over your thigh, relaxing his body once again.
In few minutes the black markings disappeared, your boyfriend was back and you were left confused but relieved.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna fluff#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna imagines#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#itadori#itadori yuji#itadori fluff#itadori yuji fluff#itadori x you#itadori yuji x you#itadori x reader#itadori yuji x reader#itadori imagines#itadori yuji imagines
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Kiyoomi likes to pretend things bug him more than they do.
Miya Atsumu screaming his name across the volleyball court? Yeah, loud, but he’s grown used to it.
Bokuto squeezing him into a spine crushing hug after an important win? The bruises are made with love.
You?
“What’re you doing?”
“Sniffing you.”
You being obsessed with him? Yeah. Hates to admit it’s endearing.
He opens his arm a little to gaze judgmental at you, neck craning slightly as a brow quirks. Sure enough, there you are, nose buried in his ribs and breathing in and out peacefully. You’re smiling happily, arms wrapped low around him as you just breath him in. Literally.
He’s not even sure if you can breath. But you don’t seem too concerned.
“I thought you were a bug,” he teases, the small puffs of your breath and small nudges of your nose breeding goosebumps.
You shrug, “I guess I am bugging you, so.”
“You always kind of bug me.” He smiles and pulls you back closer to him, only this time, your face buries under his arm, and he yelps at the strange feeling. “The hell?”
“Let me die here,” you say simply, your head taking advantage of the previously stretched arm to rest in the curve of his underarm. “You smell so good.”
He rolls his eyes and stretches his arm out further as to not pin you where you lie, “I showered, but that’s not the point. Why the hell on this rotten, decaying earth do you feel the need to fucking sniff under my arm?”
“Don’t question my desires.”
“Of all the desires you’ve demanded from me, this is the absolute most feral,” he says, trying to hide his laugh. It doesn’t really bother him that you’re… residing there, it’s just an interesting choice given the fact that he’s got two arms that are more than ready to hug you like a normal person. “Cant you just go back to biting me?”
You don’t waste a second before humming out a content, “I could bite you here,” before biting his ribs and making him squeak at the ticklish feeling.
“Don’t do that!” He whines, but more snickers come out when you continue to nibble the sharp bones of his ribs and your hair ruffles against the curve under his arm. He tries to squirm but your arms are locked tight around him; he hates you for it. “I hate you! I hate this!” He titters.
“No you don’t,” you say knowingly, smiling before sucking a faint hickey against his butterflied skin. The area around is going to be littered with the slightest little red marks from your previous deviance, and it’ll stain the skin before fading come nightfall.
And he’d be a dirty liar if he said it bugged him.
#don’t read this#I love him okay don’t look at me#sakusa kiyoomi#sakusa kiyoomi fluff#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader fluff#sakusa kiyoomi imagine#sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu#sakusa#sakusa fluff#sakusa x reader#sakusa x gn!reader#sakusa x reader fluff#sakusa imagine#sakusa haikyuu#haikyuu#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x yn#haikyuu x you#none of my posts don’t do well so#may as well post what I wanna post JFBDOSBS-
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Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together
grim reaper! jason todd
Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.
Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling
Word Count: 6081
Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)
Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.
Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!
He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.
"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly.
Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention.
"You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed.
“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him.
As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was.
He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,
“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.
He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”
Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”
“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.
He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.
“I mean, not really.”
A pause of silence.
“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”
“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?”
“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”
“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”
He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”
“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.
"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”
“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”
“Well… yes, but-”
“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”
He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”
“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.
“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”
You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”
“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.
“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.
He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention.
“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”
“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice."
He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”
"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."
He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”
“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.
“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied.
“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?
“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”
He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”
“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now.
“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.
“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”
He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”
“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle.
“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen.
You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.
“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch.
“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.
His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event.
And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things.
“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned.
“What? You don’t want me here?”
“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”
“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”
“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?”
Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance.
He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest.
This was a much better use of his time.
“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast.
“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands.
He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”
“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page.
“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you.
“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.”
He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?”
“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body.
“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.”
Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this.
“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!”
He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”
“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”
“Hm? Yeah, why?”
He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."
You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand.
“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.
You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”
“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.
“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”
He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.
“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.”
“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing.
“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”
“That sounds just fine to me.”
His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes.
You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.
“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm.
“Yeah,” You mumble back.
He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.
Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist.
His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming.
Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.
"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.
He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.
You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher.
Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.
“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.
“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping.
“You have me.”
“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”
“You can have that too…” You sighed out.
“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.
“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter.
The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.
He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you.
"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation.
You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you.
“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”
You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.
Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one.
“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly, and he never wants to stop hearing your voice.
“I got you, princess.”
He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?”
“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.
“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body.
You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you.
You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”
Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed.
His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers.
“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame.
He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.
He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him.
“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins.
He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud.
“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face.
He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub.
“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could.
He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.
“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.
“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.
“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths.
“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason.
“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.
“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.
“N-not there!”
“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”
“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you.
“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him.
“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you.
“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”
You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard.
The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him.
He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him.
He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you.
“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break.
“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue.
The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins.
Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia.
Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew.
“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in.
“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole.
“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.
His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’
You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.
“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore.
“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small.
He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his.
His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.
He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips.
He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh.
“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”
He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again.
“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt.
“Please.”
You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.
“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms.
You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over.
He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat.
“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”
“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask.
You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”
“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers.
His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”
“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”
You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language.
He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting.
He’s…. big.
Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.
“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance.
His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists.
He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.
“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter.
“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again.
Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother.
You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside.
“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.
He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos.
“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.
“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him.
He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.”
“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble.
“Isn’t it?” He grins.
He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock.
He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come.
You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body.
He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust.
“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins.
“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat.
“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.
“J-Jay…”
Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls.
He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”
A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once.
“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp.
He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body.
“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”
“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder.
“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”
Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.
“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.
“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.”
A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath.
The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred.
When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.
“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.
You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him.
"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."
“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly.
Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."
Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3
- sumi ☆ミ
ミ☆ masterlist
requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah
#sumi — dc.#sumi — my love.#sumi — works.#jason todd x reader#jason todd smut#dc smut#dc x reader#red hood x reader#red hood smut
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Okay... so it COULD be because, as a writer, I'm an ASSHOLE to my Characters...
BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'D BE FUNNY?
Danny, innocent, gets YEETED into DC. As ya do. And he's a bit messed up. But! He's a Baby Ancient in the making. Gonna be master of Spaaaaaace(~~~☆!) one day. Very exciting, only slightly relevant.
See, Ectoplasm? Dumb. That's why we need Cores and Brains etc. Never let Ectoplasm decide things. It WILL chose the "technically correct but now the buildings on fire" option EVERY SINGLE TIME. And you are running out of fire extinguishers.
Because it is dumb.
Very, VERY No Brain, Just Goo, Dumb.
And THIS Goo has a life to save. A Halfa too maintain in Peak Performance(tm). Because THIS Goo is VERY smart Goo(according only to itself) and TOTALLY knows what it's doing! Damaged meat bits? Oh that's EASY! You just FIX that! Replace with meat bits! See? It's BRILLIANT Goo. 10 out of 10 stars, me!
Small problem.
The instructions have been damaged.
PANIC.
Wait! No! We got this! We are Very Smart Goo(tm). And have Space Powers. This is FINE. We'll... we'll just FIX the instructions! Hand me a hammer! If we smash enough bits together, it'll sort? Of look right? Close ENOUGH? Yeeeeeah. We're GENIUS Goo~
Use THAT!
But where did they GET their ill begotten DNA? Well OBVIOUSLY the place all the OTHER DNA they had was stored, DUH? Keep up, says the Goo with literally no braincells making horrifying choices for an unconscious man. It's Earth.
As in... the planet.
It's not even HIS planet. It's AN Earth. A Planet CALLED "Earth" that dwells in the DC universe, not his, and is covered with ZERO(0) Fentons but plenty of superhumans and aliens. THAT planet.
The Goo grabbed the Very BESTEST Meat Instructions it could FIND! The Goo is also a collective and did not AGREE on what the "Best" WAS. But it's... okay, no, I can't lie to you, it is NOT fine.
But thankfully it IS stable.
Because Ectoplasm may be dumb and indiscriminate as super-bacteria with a flamethrower, but it is a MASTER at the jigsaw of Life. It can reanimate ANYTHING.
Including the now SINGLE MOST CHIMERAD MAN you've ever SEEN. Who is he related too? YES. His left knee is Kryptonian, the fingers on his right hand are Tameranian, his skin tone has shifted to the most ambiguously multi-ethnic tone imaginable (think that future of humanity mock up, where they combine every ethnicity on the premise that inter-racial marriage will becoming increasingly common up to the point where we all just kinda look averaged out thanks to the ease of travel) because it's trying to do all of them at once and none of them are willing to back down, because all of them got the instructions "Be Skin". He might have Slade Wilson's cheek bones and hair.
Danny wakes up and basicly is half Ectoplasmic Goo, half the extended Super Community.
AND CANT GET BACK HOME TO FIX IT.
Because of course this IS fixable. It's just medical shape-shifting. But without HIS template, undamaged. His body is REFUSING to change from what is OBVIOUSLY the CORRECT form. And he keeps getting clocked as "probably related to me".
With the Fenton Luck kicking in? The parts of him people manage to swab and/or get DNA from? Keep MATCHING them. Danny doesn't know WHO is behind this but-! *spots a giggle child with a cat* !!!!!!
You.
Klarion you little SHIT!
So now he's wearing a face that's BARELY his, running from very determined superhumans who want to parent him, trying to steal enough technology to build a portal. AND vowing to kick the witch boy's ASS.
This ISNT FUNNY, KLARION.
His body is Frankenstein's FEVER DREAM! Every time he gets hurt, it tries to "FIX" itself! He lost a chunk of his should back there and HIS ENTIRE BODY CHANGED SKIN TONES. He's pretty sure if he SITS funny, his teeth might fall out and regrow POINTY! He's handing you over to WALKER you horrible little gremlin child!
Just? Take the "Danny is related to X" and "Danny is sick" and turn them uuuuup. Make EVERYBODY concerned except Danny. This is just another fucked up adventure in a long string of fucked up adventures. Give him his DNA back. If he has to suffer the Fenton Luck then he should AT LEAST get to keep the Fenton "built like a tank"!
*gets hit again*
*is GREEN now for some reason* The fuck?
Garfield, aka Beast Boy: I HAVE A CLONE SON!?
Danny: Zone DAMN IT not another one!
@ailithnight @hdgnj @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
#tw body horror#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#never let the Goo drive#chimera au#Danny looks A BIT like everyone#just enough to be suspicious#chaos happens and klarion laughs
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