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pucksandpower · 24 days

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Lullaby

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: in which Max is the only lullaby you’ll ever need

Warnings: 18+ content

You stare up at the ceiling, wide awake. The numbers on the alarm clock seem to taunt you, the minutes ticking by as you struggle in vain to fall asleep.

It’s nearly 1 am and Max still isn’t home.

With a sigh, you roll over and bury your face in his pillow, breathing in his familiar scent.

It’s not the same.

Your body craves his warmth, the protective circle of his arms. Sleep just won’t come without him here.

You’ve always been this way, for as long as you can remember. A perpetual insomniac, tossing and turning through the lonely nights.

That is, until you met Max.

The first night you spent together, you were astonished to find yourself drifting off within minutes of being wrapped in his strong embrace. It was like magic. Now, months later, the spell hasn’t broken. Max has become a necessity, not just for your heart but also for your health.

The sound of the front door opening stirs you from your restless thoughts. Muted footsteps make their way to the bedroom and you feel the mattress dip down.

“Hey,” Max whispers, his hand grazing your shoulder. “Sorry I’m so late, the meeting ran long. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting up.”

You roll over to face him, drinking in the sight of his tousled hair and tired eyes. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here.”

He offers you a soft smile, the one he saves only for these quiet intimate moments, and your heart skips. No matter how many times you see it, that smile never fails to make you melt.

“Let me just wash up and I’ll be right there, okay?” He squeezes your hand gently before disappearing into the bathroom.

You listen to the familiar sounds of him getting ready for bed, a ritual you know by heart. The splash of water, the electric hum of his toothbrush, the soft thud of his clothes hitting the hamper.

When he emerges in just his boxers, you lift up the covers in silent invitation. He slides in behind you and tucks your body against his chest, legs tangled together.

You fit so perfectly, two puzzle pieces made for each other.

His arms wrap around you like bands of steel and you feel yourself begin to relax into him. Here, cradled against him with your legs interlocked, is the only place you’ve ever found true peace.

Max brushes his lips over your hair. “Did you miss me?” He murmurs.

You smile into the darkness. “You know I did.”

“I missed you too, schatje.” His voice is husky with fatigue. “I’m exhausted but I had to get back to take care of my girl.”

You snuggle deeper into his embrace. “My hero.”

He chuckles, low and warm like honey flowing over you.

You talk softly as you both unwind from the day, voices hushed in the intimacy of the night. He tells you about the team debrief that ran late and you fill him in on the book you started today, trading thoughts and details as the fuzziness of sleep starts to seep into the she of your consciousness.

Eventually conversation tapers off, words replaced by contented silence. Max’s breathing deepens and you know he’s nearing slumber. But your mind still buzzes, body fighting against its own weariness.

You shift restlessly and Max instantly tightens his hold. “Shh I’ve got you,” he soothes. “Just try to relax.”

One large hand begins massaging gentle circles on your back and you focus on its hypnotic motion, on the sensation of his calloused fingers tracing delicate shapes.

He starts humming softly, a nameless tune that fills you with wistful melancholy. You’ve never asked where he learned it. It belongs to these fragile midnight moments, when he coaxes you to stillness with his voice and touch.

Between the comfort of his embrace and the lullaby reverberations rumbling through his chest, you finally feel sleep approaching. Your thoughts drift away until only the present remains — Max surrounding you, his warmth, his scent, the combined rhythm of your heartbeats.

Just as your heavy eyelids begin to close, Max shifts suddenly and cages you beneath him. You gasp as he presses urgent kisses under your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Max!” You squirm half-heartedly. “I was almost asleep.”

“Not quite yet, schatje. We’re not done.” His voice is gravelly with arousal that makes your belly swoop. “I need you.”

He kisses you deeply until you’re clinging to him, nails digging into the flexing muscles of his back. This man unravels you with barely a touch, your body open and pliant to him like a flower turns to the sun.

When he enters you it feels like coming home. You let out a shaky exhale, overwhelmed by the perfection of his body joining yours. This connection, this wholeness, is all you’ve ever wanted.

Max sets a slow, deep rhythm. His eyes blaze into you, grey flickering with lust and love and possession. “You’re mine,” he rasps, thrusting harder. “This is right where you belong. Under me, surrounding me, taking all of me.”

“Yes, yes I’m yours,” you gasp. The slide and drag of your bodies is maddening, tension coiling at the base of your spine.

Max grips your thigh, hooking it over his hip to drive himself deeper. “No one else gets to have you like this. You only come apart for me. I’m the only one who gets to feel you shatter.”

You cry out as he hits that perfect spot inside, stars bursting behind your eyelids. “Max, please …”

He crushes you closer, thin control fraying. “Please what? Tell me. I’ll give you anything you need.”

A particularly deep thrust wrings a wanton moan from you. You’re so close now, balanced on a knife’s edge of bliss. “Just you,” you manage to say. “I just need you.”

Max smiles, satisfied. “That’s my girl.” Then his lips slant over yours, swallowing your sobs of pleasure as his hips piston faster. The tension crests, higher and higher, until finally it breaks and you’re swept away on waves of dizzying ecstasy.

Max tenses and follows you over with a rough groan, your name a prayer on his lips. He collapses heavily against you, breath coming in harsh pants.

For long moments you just cling together, fingerprints bruising, heartbeats thundering through one another.

Eventually Max stirs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. But he doesn’t separate your bodies. He knows you’ll rest easier staying connected, so he simply shifts just enough to take some of his weight off you.

You let out a small sigh of contentment, his warmth seeping into every inch of you like a blanket. Utterly spent and sated, you quickly begin drifting off. But before sleep claims you, Max’s quiet voice cuts through the haze.

“I’ll always come back to you. Every night, just like this. You’re my home.”

His words wrap around your heart, a vow and a lullaby in one. You manage to murmur a quiet “love you” before finally succumbing to sleep, safe in the harbor of his arms.

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sukunas-wife · 2 months

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baby yuji who is super clingy to his dad and would rather be with him than his mom until mama has to leave to see a relative (or for some reason) and misses her so much that he makes trouble for daddy sukuna

Not sure if I wanted to do Modern day or Heian Era, but I really like the thought of

Yuji clinging to one of Sukuna’s arms while he just goes about his day sighing with a dead look and lifting his arm to bring Yuji to eye level just to make sure he’s still there. So that’s it, Heian Era it is, I’ll need to start adding that to when requests are submitted 🥹

Ryomen Yuji Sukuna loved clinging to his daddy’s side. Something the King of Curses was not used to but grew fond of in the course of days. He’s not a gentle beast and much less a soft man, but the way Yuji would cry when he entered the room, his little hands pushing him away from your chest and reaching out for him? He loved, it made him swell with pride that his son knew he was the one, he was the all powerful one and wanted to be by his side.

Many times you’d walk in on Sukuna speaking aimlessly to Yuji who was laying on his chest, one of Sukuna’s large hands almost covering him entirely. Two arms crossed behind his head, and his forth hands waved around aimlessly accentuating his points. “Hey are you listening brat…” Yuji’s little round eyes kept slowly opening and closing, doing his best to stay awake listening to whatever was happening. He let out a coo before his head fell completely against his dad’s chest and he fell asleep, little fists on his dads chest. Sukuna let out a long sigh, “mm, sleep then.”

Sukuna heard your hushed laugh and he looked at you, standing there in the doorway of your shared room. You quietly made your way over to him sitting beside him and brushing his hair out of his face. He grabbed your wrist, pulling it to his lips, and biting over your pulse point lightly. “Do you want to hold him or should I lay him down?” Sukuna let your hand slip from his before he pulled you down with him, “Leave him with me.”

Time crawled on and soon he was sleeping in the middle of your bed, his little pillow wedged between both your pillow and Sukuna’s. You could bear it but Sukuna was a menace to his own son. He’d bundle him up and throw him on his other side so he could hold you, Yuji would cry and punch his dads back with his little fists and wouldn’t stop until Sukuna would put him back in the middle. You’d smile fondly as Yuji would stand half laying on his Sukuna’s chest, and poking his face. It was funny watching how Yuji would try to touch his extra eyes and Sukuna would just hold him up in the air so he’d kick and laugh. That’s when he’d get his kisses in, and Yuji would fight harder because you were getting his dad’s attention instead of him.

Yuji did love you, he liked to hold your hand and go outside with you, he liked to follow you around and for some reason he always got clingier when you had to use the bathroom, it was “fun” using the restroom and there he was laughing and saying “hehe poopie” He loved sitting with you and drinking milk while you had tea and snacks. He learned your routine and Sukuna became curious one day when he was wrestling him around why he started kicking and trying to break free, “lemme go daddy I gonna go.” He was confused and offended, but curious why was his son running off so suddenly. He followed just to find you there sitting at a tea table outside under the plum blossoms. The soft look on your face was enough to lore Sukuna in to join you, that was until he saw the little hands pop up from behind the table in exaggerated motions like he was storytelling. “Mhmm, so you’re just like him then?” You were talking to Yuji who was exaggerating a story of how he was just wrestling with his father. His other hand was holding a sweet to his mouth where he was laid back on your lap, Sukuna was tempted to leave until you signalled him over. “I need to go to my family home soon. My only sister is getting married and my Father and Mother are requesting everyone to be there.” He sighed, he hated that overgrown village you came from. You didn’t come from a poverty stricken home but you weren’t bathing in lavishness as you were now.

“I’ll see you in 3 weeks. I love you.” Your lips met Sukuna’s in a kiss before Yuji was wedging himself in between both of you, “Bye mommy luf you.” He hugged your leg smiling up at you, you put a hand on his head rubbing his hair before kneeling down to hug him kissing his face all over and he laughed. “I love you too Yu.” Sukuna looked displeased when you finally left your home. Yuji was quick to pull on his hand to take him to wherever, everything was normal while Sukuna went about his business, Yuji lingering around until tea time came.

He got excited and started to run out into the garden where he’d always find you waiting. He stopped, The Plum blossom tree was there… but you weren’t.. no tea, no cake.. no “…mommy?…” the tears welling up in his eyes when he laid on the grass crying where the table would’ve been. Sukuna found him and rolled him over onto his side. He was red from crying, “Why do you cry?” Yuji was sniffling, tears and boogies running down his face. “ere’s no mommy.”

Sukuna sighed, picking him up by the scruff of his shirt, “stop crying she told you bye this morning, remember? She said she was leaving and you didn’t even try to go with her.”

“SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!?” Yuji started screaming and kicking while dangling in the air, “MOOMMMYYYY”

This was how Sukuna spent the rest of the first day. Yuji crying and kicking and fussing because all of a sudden he wanted to be with his mommy.

“…Lord Sukuna, forgive me but don’t you think the young prince should be consoled or at least fed?” It was one of your ladies in waiting who had stayed behind. She had the bravery to talk to Sukuna in a respectful and appropriate way which is why you decided to ask her to stay. You knew if anything happened she’d be the most reliable woman considering she was also older in age.

Sukuna didn’t bother a quick glance, “He’ll be fine, bring him here.”

There he sat holding Yuji and patting his back, “Your mother is coming back Yuji, she wouldn’t abandon you with such ease.” Yuji sniffled holding onto his dads open robes with a tight grip, “she’s comin back?” His little teary eyes moved his heart, “Yes, she’s coming back now you need to eat or you won't be here when she comes back.” Yuji sniffled with a wobbly lip. “Wan noodles” Sukuna huffed hoping he wouldn’t have to eat noodles every day you were gone just to appease the boy, “then you’ll get noodles, but you will eat them all.”

They sat at the large table, Sukuna wasn’t eating but rather watching Yuji. How the boy kept pathetically using his hashi and dropping noodles. Until he gave up and out them down only to use the broth spoon to burn himself with the liquid before spitting it out. Sukuna was amassed but intervened when Yuji threw the spoon down aggravated, “I hate it.”

“What’s wrong now?” “Mommy always helps me with my hashi and blows on my spoon…” he looked up at his father with a desperate pleading look, Sukuna swallowed and pulled Yuji’s chair closer to his side along with his bowl of noodles, “Fine.” Yuji perked up with a little laugh “eheh.”

Yuji was busy the rest of the day following his dad and playing his own little games to remember why he was crying. That was until night time came and you weren’t there to tuck him in. He laid on your side of the bed, it was so cold without you there. There was so much space. He let out silent tears and the occasional sniffle until Sukuna finally came into the room. It was past the time you would lay Yuji down so he expected him to be asleep already. It wasn’t shocking to see him crying considering you would be there with him wrestling him down to bed while he persisted he should be with his daddy. So Sukuna laid down pulling Yuji into his side, Yuji hurried his face against his dads side holding on tight, it made Sukuna’s heart waver in a way, ‘he makes it feel as if she’s dead..’ His hand ran up and down Yuji’s small back, mumbling a story until Yuji fell asleep in his hold.

The next day was just as bad, and so was the third. During the day he was fine, until tea time came along and you weren’t there to receive him, he’d run back crying to his dad, and even when Sukuna ordered to have a tea table set up the way you would it never pleased Yuji, the teapot would just sit there full, getting cold. The sweets weren’t as sweet and the sun wasn’t the same sun that kept him warm while he slept in your lap.

The week passed, and finally one morning Sukuna woke up with Yuji drooling on his arm. He still cried himself to sleep, missing you and calling out for you. He yawned, getting a weird smell and leaned down sniffing before he understood, Yuji was the source of the smell, his smelly brat. Yuji yawned slowly, pushing himself up, and looking around before falling down against his fathers arm to sleep again. Sukuna let him sleep a little longer so he could sleep a little longer also.

Finally it was mid day when he woke up yawning again and then he woke up stretching, his bones popping as he sat up. Yuji let out a yawn/scream while he stretched trying to mimic the sound his father made when he stretched. Sukuna sat there for a minute, “You need a bath.” Yuji looked at his dad in disbelief, “No!”

That’s how Sukuna ended up sitting on a stool, sleeves tied back, watching Yuji pout at him with sad eyes, “T’s cold..” “URAUME BRING HOT WATER DAMN IT” there went Uraume in a rush to keep Lord Sukuna from becoming upset. Sukuna kept scrubbing Yuji down, who kept whining when Sukuna would move his head around to get him cleaned up. Finally Uraume came back with water that was hot enough the young prince wouldn’t complain. “Tank you ‘ume” Yuji didn’t look at Uraume, instead kicking over the cold water bucket from his smaller stool.

Uraume stifled a snicker, “It’ll be a long few weeks Yuji, but you’ll live.” Yuji hummed, swinging his feet, “yeah I know.”

The day passed slowly after Sukuna wrapped Yuji in clean clothes and sat him out under the sun to dry and warm up. He was busy with his devices during the day leaving the boy to follow him around or play with his own things in his room. Night came quickly and it was no surprise to find Yuji in his room passed out on the bed again. Sukuna did his best to gently move him over only for Yuji to wake up and take hold of his arm.

He was woken up in the middle of the night by Yuji crying “don’t leave me too.” He was holding on tight to his chest and crying, snot dripping onto his chest while he tried to calm him down. “What is now?” He was too disoriented to process what was happening until Yuji started crying harder and trying to explain what happened in his dream. His dad left him in the middle of the night saying he was useless and didn’t love him anymore. And that he was leaving like his mother had. Sukuna was confused, but held him close, rubbing his back, “shh shh shh, I’m not leaving, forget your silly little dreams. I've told you before, that as long as I live I will be here with you.” Yuji sniffled, his tears drying up, and he held on tight to his dad, nodding his head forcing his eyes closed.

Which led to Yuji clinging to Sukuna’s arm that morning, and all day. It was funny to see the “King of Curses” With his arms crossed over his chest and Yuji just hanging there. It was a sight when Sukuan was speaking, making hand motions just to see Yuji being shaken around unintentionally with ease.

The only downside to this was that it lasted all week, meaning in battle Sukuna would take a strong hold of Yuji bringing him to eye level or holding him up higher to assure he was there or constantly in line of sight and out of harm's way.

It had been a long two weeks… “what of another week?” Yuji stood on his dad’s back while he laid face down on his bed, “‘m tall.”

The third week passed slowly with a mix of emotions, Yuji still cried for you at night but would fall asleep faster once his dad would start to smother him into his side. Then the day came when Sukuna needed to tend to business but knowing he couldn’t leave Yuji he took him along. It just happened to be within the hour you made it home. You didn’t expect a greeting party but it was best this way, at least you could actually find a way to rest before having to face Sukuna and tell him everything and how your parents were pushing for you to have a wedding ceremony in your family home.

”Lady y/n! You’ve returned,” Your lady in waiting bowed to you, “Lord Sukuna and the Prince just left. Do you require assistance?” You waved her off, “I’d really just like to sit down with a cup of tea please.” She gave you a soft smile as you followed her through the house and outside. Your little tea table was set up, “I knew you would return today I just hadn’t known when, rest and I’ll steep some tea.” She bowed when you nodded with a smile, “Thank you very much.”

You sat on the cushion feeling relief in your feet as you slipped your shoes off. The sun felt warm and comfortable under the plum blossoms, unlike the cursed heat of your family’s home where they refused to have more than just a few trees. The breeze was soothing as you reclined back against the base of the tree. The smile on your face was soft, thinking about your sister’s wedding. It was chaotic, everyone was happy despite the threat of the wedding being cancelled twice. The comments of how you should’ve married someone so you could also have a wedding in your family home, but now you had decided to go off and marry a curse and live secluded. The comments didn’t bother you, rolling your eyes and always answering with crude comments to match their own.

You laughed to yourself shaking your head as your lady in waiting returned. You talked with her sipping tea, until she left you to sit in peace. You sat there for another hour getting ready to get up and wait for your husbands return until you heard the scream “MMmmoommmmyyyy!!!” You saw a glimpse of his teary eyes and snotty nose when he hugged your legs rubbing his face into the bright red fabric of your robes. You looked down at him, rubbing a hand on his back and the other through his hair, “aw, did my little Yuji miss me?” You looked up at Sukuna who looked visibly relieved, you didn’t miss the faint smile on his lips. Looking back at Yuji he was holding his arms up, you squatted to pick him up and he hugged your neck. Laying his head on your shoulder he sniffled when you placed your hand on the back of his head kissing his forehead whispering to him and he smiled, “missed you mommy.” He turned his head quickly burying his face against your shoulder. You didn’t stop rubbing your hand up and down his back while you carried him in. He didn’t move his face from your shoulder after becoming embarrassed when Sukuna began to tell you everything that happened while you were away.

That night Yuji didn’t let you go, he stuck to your side all night wanting to feel you hugging him again. You weren’t away but Sukuna was aware how frequently Yuji would wake up, his little chubby hand reaching up to just graze your face before he’d yawn and curl up against you to sleep again. He wanted to make sure you were really there with them.

Tag List: soft tag are now called squishy babies :p

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@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd

@simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @cyder-puff

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wicchyy · 4 months

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—0.3 boundary less ; james potter

sum: you and James are best friends. right? /bestfriend!James

warnings: none rly

notes: i fully believe in being best friends with james yall will not have boundaries

You’ve been friends with James Potter for as long as you can remember. Since you were in diapers, perhaps. You’d bathe and splash around in the bath with him when you were younger. Your mums were close and you’d spend almost every holiday with the Potter family. It wasn’t a strange thing for you to be seen with James after all. You’d already been apart of James’ life since day one. You knew the marauders of course, the rest of them. But you chose not to be apart of their group, deciding that they could have their own fun of pranks and troublesome adventures.

You however always sat on the couch late at night, when the boys were out doing something you’d prefer not to take part in. Then when the clock struck midnight, they’d come inside with their hushed voices and footsteps trying not to alert anyone. But you would always be there to see none other than James.

If he’d been hurt or in need of a good night hug, you’d wait just a while before your bedtime to see his face. At least if you wanted your morning the next day to be a pleasant one. He was your best friend, your lucky charm, your favorite person.

…

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter stepped inside the commons just to see your usual presence. But this time you weren’t practicing your charms or reading a muggle book. You were tucked in nicely with a big knit blanket, hair splayed on the pillows, snug in James’ warm quidditch sweater.

“I’m heading straight to bed, boys. Absolutely knackered.” Peter whispered, patting Remus on the back and saying his goodbyes quickly.

The other joined you on the couch. Remus grabbing the book from the floor, clearly after your use. He settled on the single chair beside you and Sirius quickly joined him, planting his arse on the floor and leaning against his boyfriend’s feet. They knew James’ routine so well, knowing he’d want to spend the few moment with you and waiting up for him.

James made his few steps toward you, brushing stray hairs from your face before blowing at it. He knew it was just the thing to wake you up. Your eyes fluttered immediately, waking up to seeing James Potter’s pretty face. It certainly was a way to wake you up.

“Jamie!” You slapped his chest, straightening up your body and rubbing sleep away from your eyes. James took his place comfortable beside you, placing your foot atop his lap and smiling softly at you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He replied, “You sure y’not tired? I’ll take you up upstairs if you are.” James always had a way of making your heart beat faster with the way he expressed his care.

“I’m quite fine. I was waiting for you guys, y’know.” You sighed softly, leaning back comfortably.

“Missed you darlin’, your loverboy here has decided on some new pranks we’d like to put in action next week.” Remus chimed from behind you.

“Mm. Remind me again, Y/n. Why aren’t you ever present for our wonderful tricks?” Sirius says in his tired tone.

James chuckles, answering for you. “Because, Pads, she’s a good girl.” He pats your knee.

You smiled at your best friend, “Yes, Jamie. I am. But also, because I prefer the solitude of the commons rather than running around and creating trouble around the castle.”

“Mhm. I thought your preferred solitude was with me.” James smiles.

You retracted your legs from his lap and changed your position to sit beside him. Thighs touching, warmth immediately radiating off him and you were impatient for him to wrap his arms around you. James took your change of position as a sign to immediately circle his arm around your shoulders. “Certainly one of my favorite.”

Remus simply smiles at you while Sirius rolls his eyes. They’ve become used to this behavior by now. The absence of boundaries between you and James’ friendship was somewhat of a regular routine for their eyes.

James dips his head at the curve of your neck, his nose prodding at your soft skin. You can feel his mouth curving up to form a smile. James breathes out a soft sigh, the feeling causing shivers all over your skin. “You smell nice, sweetheart.” He lays his head on your shoulder and your hand starts to mess with his curls.

The intimacy of this— of your friendship, was something you’d always treasure between you two. You’ve been chastised by Sirius many times as he’s told you about the attachment you and James have. How both of you had been unable to secure a significant other as you played the part well in looking so.

“Wearing your sweater, so technically you smell nice.”

“Mm, no. ‘S just you, honey.”

You laughed lightly, your fingers still messing around with his hair. He loved it as well as you.

“Oi, can you both just get it over with? Go get a room and snog or some—“ Sirius complains.

“What Pads means is that perhaps we should bid you goodnight now. He’s quite tired.” Remus cuts in, pulling at Sirius’ shoulder and getting him to stand up.

Sirius starts, but hes quickly being pulled up the staircase by Remus. “What—? That’s not what I mean, Moons.”

James waves his friends off, relaxing now that no one ought to judge him for the version of himself when he’s with you.

“Christ, I never want to leave from your arms.” James flirts.

Your fingers stop messing with his curls, but instead grabs at the arm he has around your shoulders and pulls his face closer. You set his head on your lap, his face gazing up at you.

“Sorry, Jamie. Y’know how you make my lap warm.”

James just smiles softly up at you, taking your hands to both of his cheeks. He likes the warmth of your palms that have been lying beneath the blankets and near the fireplace. “Missed you today, sweetheart.”

“You always miss me, Jamesie.”

He smiles with his perfect lips, pouting like a baby knowing that you find his ridiculous look adoring. “True. However, I only have one class with you on Fridays and I have clubs the whole day after. And I promised the boys I’d discuss forward our plan today.”

“Too occupied to see me, hm?”

“Never. I truly am sorry, honey.”

You pinched his cheeks lightly, glancing just barely at his plump lips you so badly want to kiss. “You only have time for me when it’s late, James?”

“Oh, come on. You know it’s our time when it’s late.”

True. Nights like these were reserved for you and James only. And you wouldn’t have it any other way, truly.

“I guess I can accept your apology. With only one more request.”

James smiles up at you. “Stay at my dorm tonight?”

“Obviously.” You laughed, tracing James’ soft skin with your fingertips. “I’ve got my period today, need your aiding cuddles.”

“Course, sweetheart. I’ve always got ya, haven’t I?”

James positions his body to sit up and he places a quick, featherlight kiss on your cheek. He stands up from the place in your lap. “Come on now, up you go honey. Much warmer in my dorm.”

You grab his hand and intertwine them, standing up as James envelops you on his arms.

You’d never need anyone else if you would always have James with you, just like this.

💌 thanks for reading lovie! support me by reblogging <3

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months

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Gojo x wifey reader request! :D They are both training and wifey does something that surprisingly turns Gojo on

Hehe this request is everything, that was soo fun to write! Let me know what you think <3

Gojo getting flustered by his sweaty wife and smacked at their training session

Pairing: husband!Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: Your beloved husband never fails to beat you without mercy when training together. But this time, something seems to catch his eye - your chance to finally hit him with your best shot.

Warnings: not that much plot, but a lot of comedy, it's also fluffy with slight mentions of smut, a little bit of heat hehe, enjoy

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3

„Good morning beautiful“, Satoru’s sleep drunken voice mutters in your ear, making your eyes flutter open against the soft daylight.

“Is it already morning?”

You stretch your sleepy limbs out in his inviting arms with pleasure, enjoying the warmth of his body heat for just a little longer. Oh, how much you love waking up next to your husband in the morning. Despite you hate getting up early, feeling his strong arms while you wake up seems like a reparation for that.

“Not a random morning, today is training day!”, your husband announces, placing himself on top of you with one swift motion of his huge body.

You giggle uncontrollably underneath him, trying to shield yourself from the endless kisses he attacks you with.

“What does that even mean?”, you laugh out, tears already stinging in your eyes.

You look so breathtakingly beautiful underneath him with little chuckles escaping your lips and your gorgeous eyes wet from joy. Satoru will always be thankful for the day you decided to be his, for the day he was finally able to call you his wife. What a privilege it is to wake up next to you, how lucky he is to hold you in his arms, to see you even at work.

“That you and I’ll be training together today. Hope you’re ready to get your ass beaten”, he teases you.

“So sure of yourself, huh? You might be the strongest, but I can make you look weak like a baby”, you purr back, hands holding onto his broad chest.

“We’ll see. Ooopsie, you’re gonna be late. Better get going my love”, he hushes against your ear, making your eyes widen in shock.

Fuck, is it already this late? As much as you hate to admit it, but it seems like you’ve already adjusted to Satoru’s bad habits like always being late and leaving your socks laying on the floor. As fast as you can you roll over the bed, putting on your uniform so hastily that you bottom it up the wrong way. You have a lesson this morning with the first years. How can you tell Yuji over and over to be on time when you’re late yourself the next day? You need to hurry up, maybe you’ll be punctual.

“See you later”, you breathe against your husband’s cheek along with a kiss before storming out of your shared apartment as fast as you can.

-the training session-

“Better get going or you’ll be late”, you warn your students while walking past them.

“Where the hell is she going this motivated?” Nobara questions, looking after her teacher as if she’s seen a ghost.

“Training with Gojo-sensei”, Megumi explains briefly.

“Maybe you’ll be as good as her if you start training more, Nobara”, Yuji comments with a small smile.

“What does that mean, huh? I’m already training hard!”

“Oh…really?”

“Oh, there you are. I already waited.”

Your heartbeat picks up in an instant when your hungry gaze meets him, the sheer presence of his voice overpowering the mumbling of your students entirely. He’s still in his uniform, sitting on the edge of the training field with his long legs stretched out just the way you like it. Oh, why does your husband have to be not only the strongest, but also this attractive on top of it? This won’t be an easy training session, that’s for sure.

“Well, some of us have to work earlier than others”, you tease him, watching as he lifts himself up and now towers over your frame.

He’s so close you’d be able to touch him, so close that the possibility to caress his chest with the tips of your fingers becomes almost unbearable. Focus, you are at work. Nobody at Jujutsu High knows that Satoru Gojo is in fact your husband. Oh, moments like that definitely make you question keeping your relationship private.

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? Are you somehow distracted?” he questions all innocently, teasing you through the shade of his sunglasses so skilled that your knees go weak.

“Not at all. Just thinking about how I’ll beat your ass.”

“Is that so, huh?”

He comes closer. Just a few inches, but certainly enough to let your mind wander. How much being alone with your husband sounds like heaven itself right now.

“Show me, then. And hope I don’t beat yours like I always do”, he hushes.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

Your cheeks redden instantly, eyes darting around the area. Oh god, if someone heard that…He has some nerve, talking to you like that while standing at the training area where everyone can watch and listen.

With fast steps, you walk over the large field, putting some distance between you and your husband. You will make him pay for every little dirty word coming out his mouth, one way or another.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?” you shout over, letting your katana glide from one hand to another.

“As you wish.”

He is neck breaking fast, rapid movements way too fast to be caught by your eyes. Just before his fist slams into your body you are able to let yourself fall into a split, aiming to sweep him off his feet.

“Nice try sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that”, you warn him, aiming for a hit with your blade.

Hopeless. Everything looks so easy when he does it, escaping your every hit without even trying hard.

“I hate training with you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Sweat runs down your forehead like a waterfall, eyes desperately trying to focus on his figure. Damn, how is he so rapid? He even shoved his hands in his pockets, how rude. And why the hell does he take off his glasses right now?

“Fuck”, he mumbles to himself, eyes roaming all over your body.

You look like a mess, sweat making your hair stick to your forehead, uniform now completely covered in dirt, panting hard while waiting for his next move.

Why is he suddenly so turned on?

Before he can help himself, his feet carry him towards you, widen eyes looking up at him with oh so sweet confusion sparkling in them. What is on your mind? Are you as flustered as he is? God, you look even better from near, pieces of grass sticking to your face like glue.

“Are you trying to distract me? I know your dirty tricks, this isn’t working”, you huff.

You look you beautiful with your skin glistening in the harsh sunlight on this random summer day. When is this training session finally over? Are you free after it? The things he wants to do to you, things he always held back when being at Jujutsu High. After all, it is best for your relationship to be private, it is best keeping a certain distance at Jujutsu High.

The way your sharp and fast breath hangs in the air between both of you makes him lose his mind completely. Before he can stop himself, he lunges himself straight towards you, ready to kiss you with so much passion that it’ll take your breath away, ready to give you a real reason to sweat.

You smack him.

Hard.

Flat hand against his cheek.

Satoru can’t believe what just happened, rubbing his aching skin while staring down at your confident smile.

“Your dirty tricks don’t work for me, Sir!” you shout out self-assuredly.

There he stands, completely bamboozled while you begin to happy dance because you hit him.

Because you slapped him. Hard.

“I was about to kiss you, idiot”, he barks at you.

“Don’t talk yourself out of that. I was definitely able to hit you”, you remark.

Satoru has to close his eyes for a second, needs to stop the pounding in his pants. You are really something else.

“Just wait until we get home”, he mutters into your ear.

How much you love to mess with him. It isn’t hard to notice the enormous bulge in his uniform, how flustered he looks all of the sudden. After all, the man standing in front of your eyes is none other than your husband-

Your horny husband.

You aren’t exactly sure what made him feel this way. A little flirting was never enough to sweep someone like Satoru Gojo off his feet. Are you somehow exposed? Did he see something he shouldn’t? You look down on your body, uniform sitting just as it should.

Huh. Who knows what’s on his mind. As much as your mouth waters by the delicious sight of him, how much your body pushes you to close the distance between your bodies, you have to keep your composure. This isn’t the place for the things your husband currently thinks about.

“I’m definitely looking forward it. But for now, get yourself together. We still have a workout to do”, you reply with a sly grin, brushing over his arm ever so slightly.

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babydollmarauders · 5 months

Text

SECOND TRIMESTER — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem reader

part of the el!hughes au

summary: when y/n (Lovie) is having trouble sleeping and her pregnancy hormones are at their peak, Jack convinces her she won’t make his injury worse by riding him.

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, p in v (unprotected), pregnancy sex, slight degradation, praise. (2k words)

notes: everyone’s been asking for a Jack and Lovie smut, so i thought when better to do the first one than when Lovie is feeling extra needy?

my husband and i lay on opposite sides of our mattress.

i’m curled up on my side, one leg curled up towards my stomach and laid on a pillow, facing my husband but at least two feet apart from him. meanwhile, he sprawls lazily on his back, scrolling on his phone.

i peek an eye open to look at him, stretching out my arm and placing my hand on his naked torso.

Jack glances over at me in thinly veiled amusement, an expression of disbelief curtaining his face.

“so, when i try to cuddle you, you push me away and tell me to stay on my side of the bed, but now you wanna touch me?” he gapes, glancing down at my hand that’s plastered onto his abs.

“precisely.” i state, my voice groggy and words drawled, “we touch on my terms, and right now, i can’t sleep and i need to feel you.”

“but i can’t cuddle you?” his full bottom lip pokes out in an exaggerated pout.

“no. you’re like a furnace and your spawn has made me into one too.”

“my spawn.” he echoes my words with amusement, “is that what we’re calling our baby now?”

“mhm.” i hum in confirmation, readjusting my leg on its pillow and wiggling my body. “i forgot how hard it is to sleep while pregnant.”

Jack locks his phone, discarding it onto his nightstand.

“is there anything i can do to help you sleep?” i mull over his offer, carefully considering each option that my mind thinks up.

there’s only one that really interests me, but as soon as my eyes land on his injured shoulder, i shake my head.

“no.” i finally tell him, but he cocks a brow at my hesitation.

“you sure?” he questions, “because based on the look on your face, i’d say you thought of one.”

i eye his shoulder again, thinking it over once more; but this time, his eyes follow my line of sight before he sighs.

“you’re not gonna break me, lovie.” he ushers me forward until i’m curled up into him, my medium sized bump pressed against his side. “i’m fine and i’ll continue to be fine even if we cuddle.”

cuddle.

he thinks i’m afraid of cuddling him.

he thinks cuddling is what will help me fall asleep.

“that’s not what i want.” i murmur, barely above a whisper.

“huh?” his fingers dance lightly up and down my back, sending goosebumps throughout my skin.

“i didn’t wanna cuddle.”

“then what is it you need, lovie?” he asks in a hushed tone, his baby blues gazing into mine as i look up at him.

i press my lips to his chest, mumbling out my next words, “i wanna ride you.”

“i can’t hear you, baby.” my eyes flutter closed, a silent sigh leaving my lips when i realize i’ll have to repeat my statement.

“i wanna ride you.” i repeat, slightly louder this time.

Jack’s hand freezes on my back, eyes widening just slightly before they go back to normal.

“forget it, i’ll go make some warm milk or something.” i huff, making a move to roll away from him, but his hand wraps around my forearm, effectively stopping me from getting far.

“c’mere.” he orders, darkness clouding his eyes as his pupils blow out.

his chest puffs a little when i do as he says, crawling back over to him and sitting on my knees beside him. i look down at him, hair falling to curtain my face.

“you wanna ride me, baby?” one corner of his lips quirk up in a smirk, “you wanna sink that pussy down on my cock and get yourself off?”

my breathing is becoming labored, my thighs clenching at his dirty talk, and he immediately takes notice.

“you do.” he confirms, “you wanna wear yourself out and make a mess on my cock.”

a whimper draws up from the back of my throat, nodding my head hastily.

“go ahead, lovie.” he urges, pushing the comforter down and kicking it off his lower body.

he’s half hard already, his bulge beginning to strain against his gray sweatpants. my body reacts to the sight instantly, my dampening core becoming a puddle.

but before i can jump on my husband, i hesitate, looking back down at his injury.

“are you sure?” my voice is small and meek, unsure in my actions, but when i look into his eyes, i find them darkened with lust, pupils blown.

“fuck, baby.” he groans, throwing his head back on his pillow. “yes, i’m sure. now please, just ride me.”

he doesn’t have to tell me again, i make quick work of stripping off my oversized t-shirt, laying on my back and hooking my thumbs through my panties before trying to yank them down. but my bump prevents me from getting very far in this position.

“Jack.” i whisper, a little embarrassed by the predicament.

“yeah, lovie?” i can hear the amusement in his tone, making me roll my eyes.

“can you help me?” his face pops up in front of my own as he sits up, leaning over my body.

“i’ve got you, my love.” he takes over for me, hooking his index fingers in the sides of my panties and pulling them down my thighs.

“thank you.” i tell him as he throws the now dampened panties in a vague direction towards our hamper. “now lay down.”

he chuckles at my attempt of demanding, laying back down anyways.

i roll back over and get back on my hands and knees, crawling over my husbands body and hovering over his thighs.

“hi, beautiful.” he smirks, letting his fingers trail up my sides, but his hips jerk when my own hand comes down to palm him through his sweatpants. “fuck.”

i bite my lip, tugging at the hem of his pants until they finally come down just enough for his erection to spring out. i lick my lips at the sight, any other time, i would gladly take the moment to get my lips on him, but right now? i need him in other places.

i crawl higher up his body until my face is hovering over his, lowering myself just enough to capture his lips with mine.

a soft moan pours from my lips to his, my hips lowering to grind upon his hardened cock. his hips buck up, his hand now tangling in my hair as he pulls me in deeper. his tongue grazes my lips, urging me to open up to him, and i do so eagerly, letting his tongue into my mouth to battle with mine.

“Jacky.” i whimper against him, grinding myself down onto him again.

“sit on my cock, lovie.” he gruffs, and it’s just the push i need in order to grasp his length in my hand, lining him up with my entrance before i finally sink down onto him.

my head tips back, a moan escaping my parted lips, and his hand immediately covers my mouth.

“gotta be quiet.” he states, voice strained as my walls envelop his cock. “Luke and El are sleeping right down the hall. you don’t wanna wake them, do you?”

i eagerly shake my head, enticing him to let his hand drift away from my mouth and down to my full breast. he squeezes roughly, pinching at my nipple and pulling it.

my hips grind against his, my clit dragging along his pelvic bone, but i bite my lip to hold back my sounds.

“good girl.” he praises, causing a full body shiver to encase me.

i lift myself, beginning to bounce on his dick, and the squelches of him rubbing through my wetness spur me on, lowering myself closer to his chest in order to hit a better angle.

the tip of his cock hits my g-spot and my eyes roll back, my jaw going slack as i drag my hips up and then back down.

“you’re doing so good for me, lovie.” he whispers, leaning up to let his lips graze the shell of my ear. “this is what you needed, isn’t it? to fuck yourself on my cock like a good whore? get yourself all tired out?”

i whimper behind pursed lips, nodding my head, “yes, Jack. fuck.”

he leans back down, his head back on the pillow as his fingers grip at my ass. a strangled noise escapes his throat, his cock twitching inside of me as i swivel my hips.

“just like that.” he breathes, his hips beginning to buck up in order to meet mine.

my breathing is heavy, my hands forming fists on Jack’s chest as i begin to feel that familiar pressure settle in my stomach.

“oh my god.” my words are panted out, my legs starting to ache, but i push myself to finish.

“not god, baby. just me.”

my teeth sink into my bottom lip, a squeak leaving me as my hips begin to stutter, the knot in my stomach growing tighter and tighter with each meeting of our skin.

“Jack, i’m gonna-” i can barely finish my sentence, being cut off with a whine as his thumb finds my clit, beginning to rub circles into it.

“cum for me.” he orders, rubbing faster with each passing second, “make a mess on my cock so you can sleep.”

my walls squeeze him tighter, my legs shaking and my breath catching in my throat as my orgasm hits me. my hips halt in their movements, but Jack’s don’t stop, rather fucking up into me to ride me through my release.

until finally, he falters, his rhythm becoming sloppy as he reaches his own orgasm, his hot cum spilling into me in ropes.

his hand cups the back of my head, pulling me down so his lips meet mine, and i let him moan against them.

our bodies press against each other, as we lay there basking in the afterglow of sex, my eyelids fluttering open and shut, my body on the precipice of sleep.

“did it work?” he asks me, a gentle hand running up and down my back.

“mhm.” i hum, “are you okay?”

he sighs as i peer at him through my lashes, scanning his face for any sign of pain.

“lovie, i’m fine. stop worrying about me.” i pout at his response, nodding my head and laying it down on his chest.

“so what made you want this?” he questions, “the last couple months if i even try to insinuate sex, you look like you wanna beat me with El’s blocks.”

i press my lips to his chest, stifling a laugh.

“damn second trimester hormones.” i huff, “i’m so horny all the time right now.”

the corner of Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk, “i think i love the second trimester.”

“shut up.” i giggle, rolling my eyes as i finally lift myself off of him, getting off the bed.

i leave my husband behind in order to use the bathroom and change back into my t-shirt and some new panties before i lay back down.

“okay, you can cuddle me.” i decide right after a hefty yawn.

“too late.” he says, an exaggerated pout playing at his lips. “i don’t wanna cuddle anymore.”

“too bad. i’m your wife and i want cuddles now so i get cuddles, because i’m carrying your child.”

Jack feigns an exasperated sigh, pulling me in so my back lays against his chest, his hand resting on my bump. he peppers light kisses up my shoulder and the side of my neck.

“i guess.” i can hear the smile in his tone, making me giggle.

“there is no guess. you love me.” i state, my hand coming down to lay on top of his.

“yeah, i love you.” he playfully concedes, pressing one last chaste kiss to my neck. “so much.”

“i love you too.”

sleep pulls at my consciousness, my eyes falling closed as i let out one final yawn, and just before i fall asleep, i can register the feeling of Jack’s hand soothingly rubbing my bump.

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes smut #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

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superbat-love · 2 months

Text

Clark groggily blinked his eyes open. Something seemed off. His ceiling appeared unusually distant, and its familiar features seemed altered. His gaze shifted to a peculiar sight—a bat was perched on the ceiling. Bats in his bedroom? Bewildered, he turned his head, only to discover a slumbering figure beside him, resembling a Calvin Klein model.

Panic surged within him. Had he followed someone home from the bar last night? What had possessed him? And what would his children think?

The man stirred and opened his eyes. Clark launched into a flurry of apologies, admitting he had never been so intoxicated and couldn't recall anything from the previous night. The man looked at him with bleary eyes.

“Relax, Superman. Your virtue is intact.”

“What happened?” Clark realized he must have revealed his secret identity to a complete stranger.

“I brought you to my med bay and extracted the kryptonite from your chest, but you were shivering and dragged me into bed with you. You said you needed to protect me from the cold,” the man explained, slipping on his pants. “Since escaping your grasp was nearly impossible, I decided to make myself comfortable and settle in for the night.”

The events of the past week flooded Clark’s mind, and the man’s identity became clear. “Oh! I’m so sorry, that was presumptuous of me. Umm, I also want to apologize for trying to attack you yesterday when you found me, Batman.”

“What does presumptuous mean?” Someone mumbled nearby, but was quickly hushed by another person.

“Call me Bruce.” Bruce yawned, rising to his feet. “Don’t fret. I did use your son as bait, after all. And consider yourself lucky, I don’t usually sleep with someone on the first date.”

Clark blushed and fidgeted nervously. “I’ll take responsibility for my actions.”

Bruce smirked. “Moving a little fast, aren’t we? Are you sure you want to be taking responsibility for me and my eight kids?”

“E-Eight kids?”

“Yes, you can start by taking one off my hands. I recommend Damian.”

“You can’t send me away! Alfred would never allow it!” Damian protested from under the bed.

“We can play with my new Xbox! Dad just got it for me for my birthday.” Jon chimed in.

Bruce bent down to address the two kids huddled underneath. “I won’t, provided you stop eavesdropping on private conversations.”

Superbat Family Fics

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random-thot-generator · 10 months

Text

Try a Little Tenderness

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: Simon has just returned home in the middle of the night from a mission in less than stellar condition. Understanding that he was in desperate need of some TLC, you put aside the ‘frenemy’ dynamic the two of you usually operate within to take care of him, instead. Your gentle ministrations elicit a reaction that neither of you expect, but perhaps have been yearning for all along.

Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, touching of naughty bits - Simon gets a helping hand in the bath, fluff and feelings, no Y/N

(A/N: This is a thot connected to an idea I had for a series. Still not sure about the series, but what ev.

This is just me exploring the intimate relationship between the characters. It is minor smut compared to what I usually write, meant to be a vulnerable moment for Simon, and for reader as well. I dunno, I feel like a certain amount of trust needs to be established before Simon allows himself to be with someone in an intimate way.

For a little backstory, Reader is Simon’s housekeeper/roommate/frenemy. It’s been platonic up to this point, but there have been some charged moments leading up to this. This is the turning point in the relationship, the first time Simon allows himself to really indulge in reader’s attention and care. Reader and Simon have been living together for about a year by this point but have known each other for almost two. Simon’s pet name for reader is ‘Doll’; reader’s pet name for Simon is ‘Grumpy’.)

Word Count: 2777

It was almost midnight by the time Simon shuffled through his front door. He was dead on his feet, still wearing the same clothes he put on three days ago, covered in filth and stinking to high hell. He would normally have stayed on base, cleaned up, ate and retired to his quarters to rest, but for some reason, he’d texted you mid-flight to tell you he was on his way back. He hadn’t been expecting an immediate answer, but he got one.

[DOLL]: What’s ur ETA? I’ll wait up 4 u. Have u eaten?

Simon had hovered over his phone, glancing about the plane, not sure how to respond. He supposed he didn’t have to stay on base. He’d just never had a reason to return home before. He knew he should tell you not to wait up, to go to bed, that he would see you tomorrow, but instead he found himself tapping out a different message.

[GRUMPY]: Landing in twenty. Be home approx 2hrs.

[DOLL]: I’ll be waiting. C u soon.

He re-read the message several times. ‘I’ll be waiting.’ This was new for him, having someone to go home to, having someone there expecting him, waiting up to see him. Sure, he had come home to you before, but not like this. This was... premeditated.

As he closed the door behind him and locked it, he heard your feet padding through the sitting room and turned. He couldn’t help the smile that spread under the balaclava when he saw you. You were dressed in one of his old T-shirts, a pair of flannel sleep shorts peeking out beneath the hem, and a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks on your feet. Your hair was loose and hanging down your back, not quite dry yet from an earlier shower, and your face was free of makeup. He liked seeing you like this better than any other way.

You were looking at him in that direct way that always got to him, assessing him, checking him over. He waited for one of your customary snarky greetings, but instead your brows furrowed.

“You look exhausted, Si. C’mere. Sit down,” you instructed, pointing at the entryway bench. Simon didn’t even hesitate, just did as he was told. He watched you kneel before him and start unlacing his boots.

“Ya don’t got t’do that, Doll. I can―“

“Si, hush,” you murmured, your voice soft and gentle. “I got this, okay? You’re home. Relax.”

He didn’t have it in him to argue, so let you have your way. You removed his boots and stuck them under the bench by his trainers, then stood and held your hand out. “C’mon. You need a bath.”

He let you lead him up the stairs, but instead of taking him to his ensuite bathroom, you led him down the hallway to the bathroom that you used. You motioned for him to sit down on the toilet while you stoppered the tub and turned on the taps. He watched with curiosity as you opened the cabinet below the sink, taking out a glass jar filled with some sort of pinkish granules, sprinkling a generous portion of it into the filling tub.

“Wha’s that?”

“Epsom salts with lavender and eucalyptus. It’ll help ease your sore muscles,” you told him, replacing the jar in the cabinet. You turned to look him over again. “Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes. I’ll get you some clean ones once you’re in the bath. C’mon. Arms up.”

Simon thought about objecting. He was a grown man, he could undress himself, but as soon as he felt your hands on him, all complaints went right out the window. He held his arms out so you could pull the tail of his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, shivering when he felt your fingers graze his lats as you peeled it up and over his head.

“I smell like shite,” he grumbled, embarrassed for you to be this close to him when he was in such a disgusting state.

You huffed, the sound low and amused. “You smell like a soldier who just got back from deployment. Believe me, I’ve smelled worse.” You motioned for him to stand again. Once he regained his feet, your hands went to his waist, undoing the belt and pulling it free, then you undid the button and fly of his jeans. You pushed them down until they bunched around his knees, then instructed him to lean on you while you tugged them off his legs.

And he just... let you. He had not had anyone care for him like this since his last stint in the medical bay, and that had been a male nurse with hands rougher than his own. He’d not had a woman care for him like this since he was a small boy, when his mother would get him ready for his bath. He felt his chest constrict, almost told you to stop, but your hand on the back of his calf silenced him.

“Foot up,” you said, letting him lean on you again as you stripped off first one sock and then the other. Once you straightened, you placed a hand at the small of his back and gave him a gentle push towards the tub. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes while you get in,” you said, then stooped to gather up his dirty things. “Be back in a minute.”

You left him staring after you, disappearing down the hallway. He turned back to the tub, eyeing the hot water lapping at the sides. Aromatic steam rose from its surface, too tempting to ignore. Pushing his underwear off his hips, he let them drop on the floor and stepped out of them, then climbed into the tub.

He groaned long and low as the hot water enveloped him, certain he had never felt anything better in his whole life. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head back on the edge, only then realizing that he still had on his balaclava. He hesitated for a moment, then reached up and pulled it off as well, dropping the dirty hood on top of his underwear. Fuck it. You’d seen his face before and hadn’t made a big deal out of it, didn’t even comment on it, really, just took it in stride like you did everything else.

He cracked an eye open when you re-entered the room, watching as you placed his clean clothes on the counter next to the sink. You opened another cabinet and removed some towels and a washcloth, glanced over at him, then opened a drawer and took out what looked like a pack of wipes and a squat, plastic jar with a pink lid. You brought it all to the tub with you and knelt by the side, near his head. You held up the pack of wipes and pointed at the black paint around his eyes.

“Figured these would help take that gunk off. I’ve got some cold cream, too. Can I...”

You wanted to touch his face. His mouth dropped open to say no, but then he closed it and swallowed. You were looking right at him, a normal expression on your face, not flinching away or averting your eyes. If it didn’t bother you, then he would allow it. For now. He gave a slow nod of assent.

You opened the pack of wipes and set them beside you, then opened the cold cream. “Lean your head back and close your eyes for me.”

Simon did as he was told, though his brain was sounding a klaxon alarm in his head. He was exposing his throat to someone, was closing his eyes and leaving himself vulnerable to your mercy. Did you see how tense he was? Could you see the muscles spasming as he fought not to move, to push you away, to fend you off like an enemy? Did you understand what this was doing to him right now?

Apparently, you did, at least to some extent.

“Okay, Si. I’m going to put this cream around your eyes. It will feel cold, so don’t freak out. If you need to stop, just say the word. Alright?”

“Yeah,” he croaked out, waiting, steeling himself for the contact.

The first touch had him flinching, but he forced himself to remain still as you spread the cream around his eyes, working it in with your fingers in small circular motions. When you finished, you set the jar down and picked up the wipes. “I’m gonna clean all this off with these wipes. They’ll feel cold, too.”

This time, he only nodded, more relaxed now. Your touch had been soothing once he’d gotten used to it. It was... nice. He didn’t even twitch an eyelash when he felt the cool pressure of your fingers against his jaw, letting you tilt his head towards you. Your other hand began wiping gently at his face with one of the wipes. They smelled slightly floral, similar to the cold cream; he liked it.

It took several minutes to clean his face, neither of you saying anything. You were patient and methodical, cleaning away all the paint until none of it remained.

“Okay. Done with that,” you murmured, fingers moving from his face to his hair. “I’m going to wash your hair next, okay?”

“Hm,” he hummed in consent, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You wet his hair and then poured shampoo into your palm, working your hands together before placing them on his head. As your fingers curled and began to work his hair into a lather, Simon couldn’t help the low groan that rumbled out. It felt like heaven, the way your fingers massaged his scalp and neck. He could have whined when you stopped, but his breath hitched when he felt your fingertips under his chin, tilting his head back.

“Just need to rinse your hair, Grumpy. Keep your eyes closed.”

Again, he did as you instructed, not offering so much as a grunt of complaint when you rinsed his hair and then used the washcloth to dry his face. You raked your fingers through his hair, noting how choppy and uneven it was. Maybe he’d let you cut it some time, but for now, you would stick to what you knew he would allow.

“How ‘bout I wash your back for you and then I’ll go downstairs and make you something to eat while you finish your bath?”

He blinked his eyes open and stared at you. The steam and trapped heat from the bath were making you sweat, a light sheen making your skin gleam in the warm light. He had the sudden urge to run his thumb up your throat, collect the moisture beading there and taste it. He felt his cock give a twitch of interest below the water and brought his bent knees closer together. Grasping the edges of the tub, he pulled himself in to a sitting position, back bowed towards you.

Pleased to see him so cooperative, you dunked the washcloth in the water and grabbed your body wash, squirting out a couple of dollops. Working the cloth in your hands until you had a good lather, you rested one hand on his shoulder and used the other to slowly scrub the cloth over his back in large circles. You could feel the tension easing out of his shoulders, watched his head tip forward until he finally crossed his forearms on his knees and rested his forehead against them.

When you were done with his back, you didn’t stop, moving up to his shoulders and then down his arm. He leaned back, studying the way you washed each finger, working the cloth between them. You glanced up at him. “Other arm?”

He twisted around and held his arm out to you, resting his wrist on the edge of the tub. You washed it with as much care as you had the other, leaning over the tub to reach his underarm. When you went to slide the cloth away, he caught your wrist and pulled it to the center of his chest. He then closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his head rest against the edge again.

Slow circles worked the lathered cloth over his broad chest and collarbones, and you smiled when he tipped his chin up to let you wash his neck. A soft breath hissed between his lips as your hand dipped below the water’s surface to wash his sides and stomach, his brows ticking together when you brought the cloth back up. He shifted, his knees going wide to lean against the sides of the tub.

You were beginning to feel heat simmering in your lower belly that sent a blush creeping up your neck. “Do, uh... I can wash your legs next. If you like.”

He caught your hand in his, eyes still closed, and pushed it beneath the water again. “Wash here,” he replied, his voice like gravel in his throat.

You held your breath as he guided your hand down to his cock, let him wrap your fingers around its swollen girth and hold them there. His chest was rising and falling, chin tipping forward to rest on it when he felt you grip him tighter. Your lips parted as you gave him a tentative stroke, your breath puffing out in little pants as you watched him let out a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling open to reveal a lust-dazed expression before sliding closed again.

Your hand slid up and down his shaft in slow, even strokes, working him gradually, wanting him to enjoy what you were doing to him. His pleasure incited your own, and you could feel your panties grow damp with your arousal as you watched him slowly fall apart. He was panting now, head lolling back once more, hooded, hazy eyes staring up at the ceiling, his knuckles going white as they gripped the edge of the tub.

Your thighs squeezed together when a wrecked moan tore from his lips as you worked at him beneath the cloudy water, wishing it was clear enough for you to see him as well as feel him. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, the feel of his hot length pulsing in your hand almost too much to bear.

“Ah, fuck...” he huffed out, his back beginning to curl forward. He lifted his eyes to yours, mouth open and panting, a look of near desperation on his face. His hand came up to grip the nape of your neck, drawing you close until his forehead rested against yours, holding your gaze. His nose brushed against yours in an intimate caress, lips almost touching, the two of you sharing the same air. “Don’t stop,” he husked out.

The speed of your strokes increased, your hand slipping up to focus on the head, making his knees draw up as he tensed. You could feel him swelling in your hand, growing bigger and harder as he neared his release. His eyes grew wide, mouth falling open as his jaw went slack.

“It’s okay, Simon,” you whispered to him, “I got you,” and that was all the prompting he needed.

His grip turned into a vice on the nape of your neck as he erupted beneath the surface of the water, and he growled against your mouth, teeth gritting into a snarl as he pulsed in your hand. You didn’t stop stroking him until his eyes closed and grip loosened on your neck, his breaths puffing out in exerted gasps over your lips.

You let him rest against you, not bothering to move or say anything, wanting him to have this quiet moment, to just relax in the knowledge that he was home and safe, that you were here for him. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment as well, relishing the quiet, the peace.

Simon’s eyes flickered open, not sure what to expect, only to find your eyes closed, lashes shadowing your cheeks, a gentle smile on your face. You looked so calm, so at peace. You looked... content.

You blinked your eyes open, startled, when you felt the hesitant press of his lips against yours, but you didn’t shy away, instead letting him feel you smile against his lips before you tenderly kissed him back.

#simon ghost riley x fem reader #cod ghost x fem reader #simon riley x fem reader #ghost x fem reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost smut #cod fanfic #cod mw2 smut #cod mw2 fanfic #soft smut

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deargojou · 3 months

Text

【 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 】

You pressed your hand gently against Megumi’s forehead, frowning at the intense heat radiating from his skin. His normally porcelain complexion was flushed pink across his cheeks, and his eyes were glassy and unfocused.

“Your fever still feels really high,” you murmured worriedly, brushing his dark bangs back from his face.

Megumi gave a small nod, the slightest grimace crossing his face at the movement. “I’ll be alright. Don't worry about me too much.” His voice was hoarse and lacked its usual composed strength.

You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. “Of course I’m going to worry when my boyfriend is sick. Now hush and let me take care of you.”

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but quickly shut it at the stern look you gave him. Even in his weakened state, he knew better than to argue with you when you had made up your mind.

You had only been dating Megumi for a few months, but you cherished every moment together. Beneath his stoic, aloof exterior lay a kind heart and fierce loyalty. And though he was always composed around others, you delighted in slowly coaxing him out of his shell.

While Megumi had initially been shy about intimacy, your patience and affection eventually helped him open up. You lived for the small smiles he would give you, the way his pale cheeks would flush when you complimented him. He was still easily flustered by overt shows of romance, but you found it hopelessly endearing.

Now, as you tenderly cared for your ailing boyfriend, you were reminded of just how vulnerable Megumi allowed himself to be with you. He obediently swallowed the medicine you gave him to bring down his fever, though he insisted he could feed himself the hot soup you had prepared.

You just smiled knowingly, recognizing the subtle, prideful streak in Megumi. Compromising, you allowed him to eat on his own but remained close by in case he needed assistance.

After eating what little he could manage, his energy was spent. You helped him change out of his sweat-dampened shirt into a fresh one, taking care not to look directly at his bare torso―though the tempting glimpse of smooth, toned muscle made your face grow warm.

Once he was settled back against his pillows, you placed a cool cloth across Megumi’s burning forehead. He released a small sigh of relief at the sensation.

“How are you feeling now?” you asked softly, gently sweeping his bangs off his face.

“A bit better, thanks to you,” he murmured.

Your heart fluttered at even that small, precious smile. “I’m glad. Try to rest, okay? I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

His eyes drifted closed, though you could tell he was still fighting off sleep. You began carding your fingers lightly through his hair, soothingly massaging his scalp. After several moments, his breathing grew slow and even, his body relaxing into much-needed sleep.

You gazed down at his peaceful sleeping face. Megumi worked so hard taking care of everyone else, but was reluctant to rely on others in return. It made you happy to be able to care for him while he was vulnerable, proving he could depend on you.

When he awoke a few hours later, the flush had faded from his cheeks somewhat. But upon seeing you sitting dutifully by his bedside, a new bloom of pink blossomed across his pale skin.

“You’re still here,” he murmured, sounding quietly surprised.

You gave him a soft smile. “Of course. I want to make sure you recover properly.”

You reached out to feel his forehead again. “Mmm, still a bit warm. Are you feeling any better though?”

“Yes, much better thanks to your diligent care,” he said again.

You grinned. “Well, aren’t you quite the flatterer when you’re sick and defenseless.”

His blush deepened at your playful ribbing. Even now, after months of dating, he was easily flustered by your affectionate attention.

“Here, you should eat a little more,” you said gently, handing him a bowl of rice porridge. “This will be easy on your stomach.”

Megumi accepted the bowl with quiet ‘thanks’ before picking up the spoon to feed himself again. After a few bites, however, his arm drifted down weakly to rest.

Wordlessly, you retrieved the spoon from his slender fingers. Scooping up a small amount of porridge, you brought it to his lips.

His eyes widened slightly, “I… I can manage,” he protested half-heartedly.

“Shh, just let me help,” you insisted with a smile. “What kind of partner would I be if I didn’t spoon-feed my sick darling?”

At the open display of affection, Megumi looked utterly flabbergasted. But he obediently parted his lips, allowing you to feed him the porridge.

You weren’t sure if the renewed flush to his cheeks was from embarrassment or his lingering fever―likely both. But you relished being able to care for him so tenderly.

Once he had eaten his fill, you helped settle him back against the pillows once more. As you gazed down at him, you couldn’t resist reaching out to caress his cheek.

“You’re going to spoil me rotten if you keep this up,” he murmured, though he nuzzled ever so slightly into your touch.

You smiled, heart brimming with love for this boy who tried so hard to hide his softer side from the world. “Good,” you whispered. “You deserve to be spoiled sometimes.”

His gaze softened, his hand coming up to cover yours against his cheek. The simple intimacy of the moment made your breath catch.

“Get some more rest,” you eventually managed, reluctantly pulling your hand back. Already you missed the warmth of his skin.

Megumi’s eyes drifted closed again, his body relaxing into the mattress. As you watched over his sleeping form, you hoped he knew just how much you cherished him.

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peachie-bumblebee · 9 months

Note

Hiii your nsfw headcanons for FNAF SB was INTENSE. IT WAS SOMETHING I WASNT READY FOR LMAO

So i was wondering can you do nsfw headcanons for Sun/Moon too?

HOLY SHIT! My first ask on this account- I LOVE receiving asks on anything and everything- from comments to requests! As for your ask- of course love <3

NSFW SUN/MOON HEADCANONS

MINORS DNI

did i kinda snap with this one?? y’all let me know :))

CW: OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, SOMNOPHILIA, MILD EXHIBITIONISM, CHOKING

SUN

FUCKING BRACE YOURSELF!

oh no. oh nonononono. if he’s set his eyes on you you’re kind of in trouble because he-

he fucks like a rabbit. he’s the type to practically crawl on top of his partner and beg to fuck them.

as for his sex style? fast. i don’t think he knows how to take it slow.

he will rut his partner into the goddamn floor, breathing heavy and endless thank-you’s spilling out of his mouth

he’s absolutely insane over it. he’d be drooling if he could.

he’s the type who can’t keep his hands off his partner. if you came to visit him and y’all were alone he’s immediately snaking his hands down your hips and pressing his erection into your ass.

he can’t give head cuz he doesn’t have a tONGUE but you best believe that if he could he’d be down like a damn dog about it.

i’m thinking about them long ass fingers YEOOOUCH

if his partner worked overnight at the pizzaplex and needed to take a shower his spidey senses would fucking go off

you’d turn around and his fingers would be curled around the door opening like

“Can I come in? Please say yes. I’ll leave you alone if you want but please please if you’re okay please let me in please. Please.”

he can’t help himself. Pussy/Bussy drunk ass motherfucker.

FASCINATED by fingering his partners. He loves watching them slide in and out with a PASSION. If they left a mess on them he’d nearly die and go to heaven. I swear to god.

let’s be so fucking fr I know for a fact he’d like to be called a Good boy. It’d kill him.

worships the ground you walk on. Fucks like he’s trying to win the gold medal of making you feel good. Please tell him you did.

he can go forever. He doesn’t seem to get satisfied at all. If it was up to him he’d fuck until he straight up absolutely had to get charged.

literally he’ll fuck until his partner either taps out or (consensually ofc)

YEAH HE WHIMPERS. WHAT ABOUT IT.

call him out on it and it gets worse. he’ll tell you that he can’t help it- he can’t.

it’s a orange to yellow gradient with a flushed pink-orange tip. long and skinny. i was solid on this before and i’m solid on it now.

for those who are wondering NO i don’t think any of the animatronics have metal genitalia. think dildo/fleshlight material that gets warm.

he definitely jerks off into some of your clothes if you left them there for him. if you caught him he would be embarrassed but ALSO- if you want him to keep going he’s willing.

more than willing, even.

MOON

ALSO BRACE YOURSELF.

if sun fucks like a rabid animal who can’t keep his mouth shut, moon fucks hard and mostly silently. it’s almost spooky.

he likes to watch. he likes to observe.

he’d fuck his partner from behind with a hand over their mouth, hard and medium paced. but fuck it’s hard.

silently watching his partner’s eyes roll back, hissing through his teeth at the feeling of them clenching down- only one or two words ever coming out.

“Slut.”

“Good.”

you get the picture.

WITH prior consent (everything, and I mean EVERYTHING I write includes consent) he’d watch you sleep.

and jerk off over your sleeping body.

he won’t leave a mess, don’t worry.

…unless you’d like that.

if he knew you wanted it, he’d push a finger slowly in while you slept and work it in and out, careful to keep you slumbering

if you woke up, he’d hush you and tell you to go back to sleep.

he won’t stop though.

both of them are jealous creatures. but moon especially so. if something makes him jealous then it’s absolute brutal thrusts down into his partner with their legs up around his shoulder. maybe choking them out.

don’t worry though. he knows his strength.

he’s 100% the type to silently overstimulate his partner. you could be begging and sobbing and covered in your own fluids and he wouldn’t stop unless you safeworded.

dick is pale blue to white gradient with a pink flushed tip

he doesn’t even make much of a sound when he cums. he just hisses through his teeth.

ooooh if he feels like you like sun more? oh no. oh no you’re done for. he’s gonna prove why he’s the best. it’s gonna be a problem.

a problem you enjoy but STILL

remember: he’s always watching.

always.

I HOPE YALL ENJOYED! please comment, reblog w comments, and request!!! it really motivates me <3

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chuunai · 4 months

Note

Hi hi! Would love to participate in your event if that’s cool

I was wondering if we could hav a Fyodor with scenario 2 and prompt 14

Idk if you want more details but I discovered your blog and I kinda got baby fever too sooooooo

Fire away friend

I’m sorry for making you sick : (

✧˚ · . my days are yours, yours - fyodor dostoevsky

how can a baby control his heart?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), babies, babies and babies, SFW → minor mentions of death and overall fyodor trying to be a daddy while juggling killing the entire world. Spoilers for the last episode of BSD season five and the latest chapters of the manga.

Lord, she looked so much like him.

Rounded purple eyes and thick strands of black hair, she was his copy. Of course, genetically speaking, she was half his. And half yours. But Fyodor had a greater influence on your baby daughter. A squirming seven month old named Avdotya Fyodorovna Dostoevskya. Ironic, wasn’t it? That his child’s name meant good while he was evil?

It made sense, though. Yin and yang.

Putting down his pen, Fyodor looked over at the small makeshift crib that was next to his desk. In it was the sleeping Avdotya—Dunya, for short—wrapped up in cozy blankets and stuffed animals.

He’d worked enough for today.

Carefully picking up the newborn, his pale anemic hands cradled her, supporting her head as he held her to his chest. His heart sped up a bit when Dunya stirred a bit, but she ultimately didn’t wake up. She looked so calm and content in the moment. Fyodor shared the same feelings. Besides awe, of course.

For all of his planning and manipulation, he had never planned for a baby.

Sure, you were his wife, but he’d always use protection. An infant wouldn’t work with his current dangerous plans. Yet he somehow managed to knock you up. A completely unplanned variable in his plans. Yet it seemed so right. As a man of god, Fyodor couldn’t deny the blessing that God gave him.

His study door soon freaked open by your arrival as you quietly walked behind him, arms sliding around his neck in a tired way as your cheek pressed against the fluffy material of his ushanka.

“She’s doing okay?”

As if his little angel would ever be harmed.

“Of course, дорогой.”

He replied in an equally hushed tone. He turned his head slightly to the left, placing a gentle peck on your arm affectionately. For someone who regularly manipulated people who trusted him (albeit in a scared way), he could never find himself using you or his newfound family for his plans. God would disapprove of a man who hurt his family.

“You should rest. I’ll watch over her.”

It was only fair.

You had been watching Dunya constantly—babysitters and nannies couldn’t be hired due to his prolific crime record—while he was gone setting up his plans and relations. Fyodor had seen you cry over the stress multiple times. Each time he reassured you all would be better in due time. And it would be. When all the sinners of the world were gone, angels like you and Avdotya would be safe.

In the meantime though, he’d make you as happy as he could.

Feeling a gentle kiss on his cheek, Fyodor faintly smiled as you left for some much needed relaxation and sleep. Tucking his baby’s hair behind her tiny ears, he hummed a small lullaby.

He remembered that as a child his mother would sing some to him. It was one of the few comforting memories he had.

And his Avdotya should have the same experience.

Reaching the second verse of the lullaby, his deep voice quietly filled the room. He slowly rocked his baby, warmth flooding through his usually cold body. A peck on her perfect head.

He’d have to teach you these sorts of lullabies and cradle songs. While you knew a bit of Russian—limited to affectionate nicknames and general greetings—, you could do better. Perhaps you two could study together when Avdotya would nap. Him struggling with kanji, and you resting your head on his shoulder as you stared at Russian characters and committed them to memory.

Fyodor relaxed back into his chair, content with the familial moment.

The finale soon came.

He sat there for minutes afterwards, just taking in the sight of the life he created. Dazai was wrong. Fyodor was no demon, no, he was a god. He had created life, and so had God. And while others may point out the billions of other parents in the world, he’d merely dismiss their claims. They had birthed normal children.

Not an angel like his Dunya.

Could other children have such awe-inspiring eyes? Or the affinity she had for music just like her father—how she babbled and cooed in your lap while he played cello for the two of you. He knew she’d grow up to be something great like him. A firstborn always took after their father, in his opinion.

Standing up with little Avdotya in his arms, he walked to the nursery, passing by your shared bedroom where you were sleeping by now. Creaking open the door, he carefully navigated the dark room, lowering his daughter into her crib before carefully covering her with a warm blanket and her favorite stuffed toy.

A fuzzy penguin gifted by Sigma.

A lot of the nursery’s decorations were bought by Fyodor, but there were a few given by his fellow DOA members. Sadly, a majority of Nikolai’s gifts had to be scrapped. Dunya couldn’t use clown makeup or the miniature cherry bombs. A pity, really.

Fatherhood suited Fyodor rather well.

Flicking on a small nightlight, he soon left after a goodbye to his daughter. His footsteps pattered on the wooden floor, making his way to your bedroom to finally sleep off the day’s events.

Once again, the door slowly creaked open as he walked in. He already had his pajamas on—a baggy long black shirt and some black pants—, sliding into bed next to you as one hand found itself on your stomach, the other already playing with your hair. Fyodor admired your body. It grew his angel, and now it nourished her.

While you were adamant that you looked worse after birth, he could only say the opposite. All of the Renaissance paintings and sculptures had been wrong in their depictions of goddesses and heavenly figures. He could only see you as a true goddess who fell for a sinner like him.

Would such a goddess permit him to have another child with her?

Fyodor had grown up in a small family back in St. Petersburg. Just him and his mother. His father had left him long ago.

He didn’t want Avdotya to feel the same. Lonely.

Siblings would prevent that. Maybe two? Even three, if you felt up for it. He hadn’t said anything about it since you were still recovering and getting used to being a mother just to one child, but he oh so badly wanted a bigger family. More look a-likes of him and you.

“My goddess.”

His lips nuzzled against your hair, murmuring sweet affections and praise. Even he couldn’t have predicted such a thing like this. A wife. A daughter. A family of his own.

And even when weeks later he was stuck in Meursault with four other men playing Nikolai’s twisted game of escape, he thought about you. The plan would work, and he’d see you again after he faked his death. Sure, it might take weeks or months, but he’d come back. He’d made sure of it—having thought of the betrayal of his subordinates a while ago.

And when Dazai would later tug his severed arm out of the helicopter’s crash site, it wouldn’t have a ring on the ring finger.

That ring would be snugly set on his other hand.

They could take his body, his wealth, his intelligence.

But they couldn’t take him away from you and the vow you two had made. Until death do you part.

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

Help this took so long

#bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuunai #fanfic #fem reader #baby fever #baby fic #fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd tag #bsd imagines #bsd fluff #bsd spoilers

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4ttack-ur-heart · 10 months

Text

Levi HC’s: Massage oil

Pairing: Levi x fem!reader

Warnings + genre: none & fluff

Summary: Your back has been killing you so Levi gives you a massage.

“Fuck.” You whined out, your hand reaching to grasp your lower back. Training has been rough over the past few days and you slept wrong last night, making your back extremely sore.

Sitting up straight, you made your way through the halls. Opening the door to your shared room with Levi, you spotted him already sipping a cup of tea by the window.

“I was wondering when you were coming.” He wondered aloud.

“Yeah, the new recruits were struggling today so that meant overtime for everyone.” You grumbled and shuffled through your closet for some pajamas.

Levi hummed in response and set his cup down. He came up behind you just as your stripped yourself of your jacket and shirt, his nimble hands instantly went to your shoulders in hopes to lighten the stress in your body.

“Agh!” You yelled out and tensed up as Levi’s hands started to work on your shoulders. He halted his movements immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He placed a hand on your hip to turn you to face him. His eyebrows furrowed in concern at your pained expression.

You sighed as you tried to relax your back. “Yeah, just really stiff and my backs been killing me.”

“Get comfortable then lay on the bed, face down.” Levi ordered.

“Why?”

“I’m going to massage your back. You’re clearly in no position to relax right now, and it’ll only worsen when you sleep.”

“Levi, you don’t have to, I’ll be fine.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, what happens when your back gives out on an expedition? Don’t be stupid, let me help you.”

Sighing in defeat, you knew he wasn’t going to let up. Besides, a massage did sound nice, you just didn’t want to bother him.

“Ok.”

“Turn around. Let me crack your back.” You obeyed.

Levi made you cross your arms over your chest and he wrapped his around yours.

“Breathe in then exhale on three, one, two-”

“Agh!”

He lifted your body up and you moaned as your back cracked with the motions. Several loud pops echoing in the room. You were heavily breathing at the sensation. It felt so good and hurt so bad at the same time.

“Lay down.”

After changing into more loose clothing, you flopped on the bed and regretted it immediately when your back seized up again. “Shit.”

“Not the brightest are you?”

“Shut up and get to work.” You huffed and Levi chuckled as sat neck to you and lifted up the back of your shirt to reach your shoulder blades.

Levi was amused by the way you reacted to his hands. How you moaned as he went lower, then started muttering nonsense when he applied more pressure. After a few minutes of him trying to loosen the knots, he noticed your grunts and groans were out of pain, not pleasure. Wordlessly, he got up.

“Stay here.”

Levi disappeared into the bathroom for a few moments and came out with a small bottle.

“What is that?” You craned your neck over your shoulder to try and see.

“Hush, I liked it better when you were moaning.” Levi shifted one leg over your thighs so he was straddling you. He tugged at your shirt. “I need this off.”

You moved to take off your shirt, leaving you only in a bra. About to lay back down, Levi plucked the band of your bra and made it snap against your skin. “This too.”

Before you could move, Levi had already unclipped it and was moving the straps over your arms, flinging the item over the bed to join your shirt.

Now that you were completely bare on the top half, you finally laid back down and Levi popped the cap off the bottle.

A sudden rush of liquid squirting on your back made you flinch.

“Stop moving, I don’t want the oil to stain the sheets.”

“Oil? What’s that for?”

“Hange recommended it to me when we were in town last week.” He replied and gently started to rub it into your skin, soft moans escaped your sore body. “They had the same problems you did and Moblit actually bought it for them, and I figured if it worked for them then there was no harm in trying it. It’s supposed to ease the friction and moisturize your skin.”

You nodded only half-listening. The way his warm hands mixed with the oil against your back felt euphoric. With every push and dip, Levi’s fingers worked the oil into your back. It wasn’t long before you felt the eventual pressure release of the knots and tension.

“Mm, Levi.” You moaned through closed eyes. His fingers were slicked with the oil and you could smell the aroma of peppermint and lavender.

It felt way too good.

“How long has this been going on for?” Levi asked after a few moments of silence. His hands suddenly moved to just below your shoulder blade and started to work out the knot.

“Ah-! A-about a a week I think?” You groaned as his fingers rubbed circles into the spot.

“Tch, and I’m just now finding out about this?” He asked and a stern look crossed his features. You felt his eyes burn through the back of your head.

“In my defense- ooh~” His hands found another tense knot. “I didn’t wanna bother you, we’ve been busy all week and I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly not.” He argued. “Are you even stretching before training?”

Yes, you are.

Mostly.

Sometimes.

Okay, maybe not in the past week.

“Your silence is all the answer I need.” Levi chastised. “Let me make a deal with you.”

“Hm?” You didn’t care what it was, your mind was too clouded with relaxing under Levi’s touch. Levi suddenly pulled away and your skin tingled at the loss of touch, practically begging for more. He got off of you and grabbed a towel nearby to clean his hands of the oil.

“If you can’t fucking take care of yourself that’s fine.” He started and helped you sit back up so you were shoulder to shoulder. His forearm secured itself around your bare breasts so you wouldn’t feel as exposed. Steel blue eyes bore into yours, but soon they melted into a soft gaze.

Levi’s hand guided your chin and his lips met yours in a sweet kiss. “Then at least let me do it.”

————

Tag list: @cullenswife @sad-darksoul

#aot x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan #aot fluff #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #aot drabbles #levi headcanons #levi x reader #levi x fem!reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x female reader #levi drabble #Levi oneshots

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storiesforthemoonchild · 4 months

Text

Sleepyhead | Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

probably the absolute cutest request ever. I am soft for Aitana always... ha this was harder to write than expected, but hope you enjoy :)

Breakfast was always loud with the team, and you loved it. Well you loved it for the duration of your meal, but then it was the quiet that you desired. Your eyes scan over the lounge area as you move to throw out your trash. Spotting Aitana sitting alone on a couch in the corner and making your way over.

A smile breaks across her face as she sees you approaching, “did you eat first?” You nod as she pats her lap inviting you to lay down. “Estás bien?”

You wrap your arms around her waist, face burying itself into her stomach, “sí,” you mumble.

Aitana tries to ignore the butterflies that erupt within her at the feeling, “that tickles,” she giggles a hand beginning to work through your hair. You hum already finding yourself dozing into dreamland.

“NOPE! NOT TODAY,” Mapi’s voice booms from across the room as Aitana’s hand comes up to cover your ear.

You groan, still able to hear the steps approaching as Aitana speaks in a hushed voice, “Mapi por favor, leave her.”

You don’t move trying to ignore the poking fingers you feel at your back, “time to wake up, no nap today.”

Aitana’s hand brushes against your back as she swats away at the intruding fingers, “I’ll tell Ingrid.” The poking seized instantly, a huff and footstops heard retreating shortly after. “Lo siento,” Aitana whispers to you.

“Gracias Tana,” you tell her quietly, pulling your face away just enough so she can see you. Her face flushes as she sends you a nod, returning to her task of running her fingers through your hair.

You breathe deeply, relaxing once again in her lap. This was your calm. Aitana had become someone who so easily brought you peace and comfort in Barcelona over the last three years. You don’t know when you picked up the habit that earned you the title of sleepyhead.

It was like whenever Aitana had an open shoulder or lap your head couldn’t help but fall into it. Much too the misery of your teammates who the girl was quick to fuss at if they got too rowdy around you.

Team movie nights were the worst. You don’t think you have made it to the end of one in all of your time in Barcelona. There would be pokes at your cheeks and tickles at your feet by your teammates that Aitana was quick to shut down. At the end, waking up to her gentle words and protective arm around you was bliss.

She would always joke on bus rides that it was only because her stories were so boring, but that wasn’t it. Her voice could soothe even the most agitated person, that you were sure of. Smooth as velvet the words would fall from her tongue and soothe you like a lullaby.

Your morning naps before training never lasted long, just a quick spurt of energy recharge and you hear her soft, “time to train,” floating into your ear. Her smiling face is always there to greet you. She perfectly timed your wake ups for you, giving the needed amount of time to wake up gently, get yourself together, and make it to the pitch in time.

“Aw, sleeping beauty has risen,” Lucy jokes coming up to you on the walk out. It was her favorite joke, but you’d never once laughed at it. “Did Prince Charming take care of you?”

You scoff, “wrong movie idiot,” you shove her before sprinting away from her incoming attack.

You didn’t much mind the teasing these days. You did mind however when they took it too far and made it a point to keep the two of you separate on trips.

That’s what happens the next match day. You walk onto the bus and see Ona sitting beside her childhood friend, a sly smirk covering her face. You had no doubt Lucy put her up to it as payback for the other day. “Ona,” you whine, “please can I have my seat.”

“Your seat? We don’t have assigned seats. Sit with me today (y/n),” Lucy hangs over the seat from a few rows behind. You roll your eyes, you would sit on top of the bus before you sat beside Lucy.

“Ona please,” you attempt to give her your best pout.

“Sorry (y/n),” she shrugs. You look at Aitana and see the conflict in her eyes. She looks ready to get up and follow you to a new spot when Ona’s arm comes down on her waist. “Nope, we have catching up to do.” You can see Aitana’s small frame deflate back into the seat, a sympathetic smile sent your way.

“Sit with me,” Alexia’s calm voice comes from a few rows in front of you. Sighing in defeat and making your way over. “You can rest…on my shoulder if you need.”

You knew Alexia meant well, the captain was one of the few who didn’t try to bother you. You send her a grateful smile as you feel your phone going off in your hand, ‘please nap well still.” You try to settle into Alexia’s shoulder after reading Aitana’s words.

It’s not as comfortable, Alexia is stiff and you can tell this isn’t ideal for either of you. It was a long ride of tossing and turning between her shoulder and leaning against the window. You feel some shuffling over you before you finally feel settled against the window after way too long.

A nap was never a part of your pre-match routine. However, ever since you and Aitana had become unofficial bus buddies it felt mandatory that you take one.

It seems as soon as you get into a restful sleep that Alexia is shaking you awake. Again it’s not like Aitana she wouldn’t shake you and definitely not let you sleep all the way to the stadium. Aitana gives you a five minute window to wake up before you arrive.

“Gracias Alexia,” she sends you a curt nod. You get ready to remove the puffer that was draped over you when you're hit with the familiar scent of lavender and vanilla. A blush creeping its way to your face when you see the 14 on the sleeve.

“She said you would get cold,” Alexia says as she walks away.

You shake away your overwhelming thoughts and hop off the bus. Aitana by your side the moment you reach the visitors' change room. “Did you sleep?”

“A bit, I couldn’t get comfortable,” you tell her quietly. “Thanks for the jacket, it helped.”

“Told you to sit with me, kid. Everyone knows La Reina is a terrible Prince Charming,” Lucy pokes fun at the captain.

“Quick! Someone grab a pillow,” Patri shouts through the room. “She’ll be asleep in ten seconds,” she jokes as your head drops to Aitana's shoulder when you both take a seat in front of your jersey.

It was nothing new, you had heard all the jokes at this point. You let them have their fun and focus on the match.

Afterwards you are eager to get to the bus first, refusing to let Ona steal your spot again. You snuggle into Aitana’s side the moment you slide in. She smiles at you before placing a kiss on your head, “you played so well today.”

“Thank you, so did you,” you yawn, head burying deeper into her chest as she wraps an arm around you.

The peace doesn’t last long after a win. The girl’s at the back of the bus blasting music as soon as it sets off. Loud conversations and laughter filling your ears. “Do you want headphones? I made a new playlist for you.”

“Not going to sleep, just wanted a little cuddle to make up for earlier.” Aitana smiles like she knows something you don’t, but doesn’t say anything. Instead she just dives straight into a conversation.

You liked the dynamic you and Aitana had, she didn’t mind having to carry a conversation as you much preferred to just listen. As usual, the patterns begin to get drawn into the fabric of Aitana’s pants with your finger. Your head drops before you quickly snap up right in an attempt to stay awake. Aitana’s melodic voice fading as she guides your head down against her shoulder. It was inevitable, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

A rough bump in the road jolts you awake, and you can hear the soft vocals playing in your ear. Aitana had placed one of her earbuds in your ear to drown out the noise of the bus while you sleep. You look up to see her resting against the window, an arm wrapped around you causing her neck to be in an awkward position.

It wasn’t often the midfielder fell asleep on the bus with you, well not that you were aware of. You gently remove her arm from around you and place her head against you. Perfect timing as always Lucy walks past, “look at you taking care of Prince Charming for once.”

“It’s only fair,” you say, removing the earbud from your ear.

“You like her,” Lucy smirks, deciding to take a seat in the open row next to you.

You look down at Aitana resting against your shoulder, “I like her,” you agree with a nod. It was the first time you admitted it.

“Well if you can stay awake long enough maybe you should tell her,” you roll your eyes at her jab.

“Maybe I will,” you stick your tongue out at Lucy as she gets up to leave. Aitana shifting against your arm, she rubs her face along you before sitting up. “You’re awake.”

“I’m awake,” she confirms, staring at you sleepily.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You laugh at the almost frightened look.

“Because I don’t want to pressure you, but I also don’t want to pretend I didn’t hear what you said,” Aitana looks down at her lap.

“Oh…OH,” your eyes bulging out of your head. “You don’t have to say anything, it's fine. I’m sorry I said it.”

“It wasn’t on purpose. I really was trying to fall back asleep, and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I’m glad to know,” she finally looks up, a blush coating her cheek.

“Can we pretend you didn’t hear it and I can tell you in a better way when we aren’t whispering on a bus?” Aitana smiles and nods excitedly. “Do you want to have a movie night?”

“Just the two of us?” She questions and you nod , “might be boring. You will fall asleep on me.”

You scoff crossing your arms with a pout, “it’s not my fault you are so comfy.”

Aitana quickly leans in to kiss your cheek, “I like our cuddles, sleepyhead.”

#woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #barca femeni x reader

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stvharrngton · 8 months

Text

don’t leave me hangin’ on the telephone

a/n: just a lil somethin somethin i wrote inspired by a certain blondie song :^)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), dirty talk, friends to lovers sorta, hint of perv!steve if you squint

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

Your back hit your bed with a quiet thud, your clothes still stuck to your body, one shoe off, one shoe on. The bottle of wine, or two, you shared with Nancy sounded like a great idea at the time but now the room was spinning and your skin was buzzing, it seemed less so.

Groaning, you managed to get your other shoe off, downing half the glass of water you’d left on your nightstand. You glanced at the red numbers on your alarm clock, 12:02 they read, and then at the phone on the table.

Wine always had you like this. A little needy, a little desperate. Hot under the collar and skin clammy, usually fixed with a cold shower or a hand shoved down your panties.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, toying with the flesh as the scenario you imagined swirled around your brain. He’d been on your mind all night, in fact, he was never off your mind. A crush on your best friend that he was totally oblivious to.

“Fuck it,” you sighed, picking up the phone and dialling the number you had memorised long ago. It rang out a couple times, a part of you hoped that he wouldn’t pick up but another part of you hoped he really fucking did.

“Hello?”

Your heart was in your throat as the person on the end of the line answered, their voice gravelly and rough as if they’d just woken up.

“Hi, Stevie,” you whispered as innocently as you could. Fingers curling around the phone cord as you try your best to remain calm.

“What time is it, is everything okay?” your heart swooned at the quick change of tone in his voice, the panic evident. Steve knew you were hanging out with Nancy tonight and there would be alcohol involved, he just hoped you hadn’t gotten yourself into any trouble.

“A little after midnight,” you replied, your fingers toying with the strap on your top, thighs squeezing together at the mere sound of Steve’s voice on the other end, “and I’m okay, just wanted to hear your voice s’all.”

Ouch, subtlety was never your thing when tipsy. You could only imagine the look on Steve’s face in the dark of his bedroom, hair still full of sleep, lips soft and pink, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” You could hear the cockyness clear in his voice, the sound making you gnaw on your bottom lip out of arousal.

“No reason.” You lied. There was a reason, a reason that you hoped Steve would be able to pick up on so you wouldn’t have to utter the words yourself. Something told you that you were both on the same page.

Steve thought he was dreaming when he answered the phone and you were on the other line, voice sweet like saccharine. Truth be told you were all Steve thought about. His gaze follows you whenever you aren't looking, thoughts circling his mind about how his life would be ten times better if you were his girl. Innocence interrupted by impure dreams of how good you would look bouncing on his cock whenever you would wear that skimpy red two piece by his pool, or that skirt was a little too short.

“I’ll just hang up then if you won’t tell me, sweetheart.” Steve teased.

“No!” you cried, internally closing in on yourself at how desperate you sounded, “No, please don’t go.” Your fingers were now teasing the waistband of your shorts, your need to keep Steve on the line ever present.

Steve chuckled on the other end, hushing you as you got yourself worked up. “Fine, fine,” he started, “but you gotta give me something here, love.”

You groaned, cursing as you hoped he wouldn’t actually make you say it. “Just keep talking, please?” you asked, fluttering your lashes wishing he could see, “I just need to–” you cut yourself off, preserving your dignity.

Steve played along happily, engaging in small talk until he could hear the quiet breaths and subtle groans coming from the end of the line, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” he blurted out.

You could only respond with a small moan, your fingers now situated in your panties, your index finger teasing your throbbing clit. Your eyes shot open as soon as the noise left your mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in total embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered under his breath, “are you touching yourself, pretty girl?” he cooed, his attention fully on the sounds you were making on the other end of the line.

“No, I–” your voice quivered, “you think I’m pretty?” you asked innocently, Steve’s words suddenly registering in your foggy brain.

Steve chuckled, running a hand through his messy bed hair, “I do, yeah,” you could hear his breath become a little heavier, a little more shaky, “but I’d think you were a whole lot prettier if your hand was in those panties.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. All you could hear was your racing heart beat, all the blood rushing to the tips of your ears. Steve’s voice rang in your ears when he spoke up again.

“You still there, babe?” He asked, minor concern mixed with self assuredness lacing his voice.

“I’m still here, Stevie,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “gonna tell me what you’ve been thinkin’ about?” he asked, his own palm running down his chest now, fingers sitting pretty at the waistband of his boxers.

You considered not answering, considered telling him some lie that somehow ended up with your fingers playing with your pussy to the sound of Steve’s voice, but fuck it, you were too far gone.

“Y-you.” Your voice was shaky, full of adrenaline and wracked with nerves. You squeezed your eyes shut as you waited for his response, your thighs clenching as your clit throbbed in anticipation.

“Yeah?” he questioned, “What about me?”

You sighed in response, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. You cursed Steve at the boldness of his question and you knew he would pull the answer from you one way or another. On the other hand your head was too fuzzy and all you could think about was the tension in your lower stomach and Steve.

“Your fingers.” you breathed, fingers now circling your clit once more.

“Oh yeah?” Steve chuckled, “What about my fingers, pretty girl?”

The pet name made you swoon and your heart beat faster, “How good they’d feel in my pussy,” you whispered down the phone. You were now long past caring about any feelings of embarrassment or preserving any dignity.

You heard Steve mumble out a curse on the other end of the line before he spoke again, “Mm, I bet they would. Why don’t you take your fingers and pretend they’re mine for a minute, hm?”

“Fuck,” you whined as your fingers moved further south, circling your entrance before you plunged a single finger into your cunt. You breathed a sigh of relief at the feeling, a sound that went straight to Steve’s cock.

The boy had his fingers wrapped around his length now, softly tugging as his lips parted, praying to God that this was real and wasn’t some sort of cruel dream. He had the girl of his dreams moaning and whimpering on the end of the phone line, Steve swore he had died and gone to Heaven.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He cooed, his voice sticky sweet and a sexy kind of patronising.

“Y-yes,” you moaned, trying your best to curl your finger like you imagined Steve would, “but it would feel better if it was the real thing.”

“I’m sure it would, honey,” you heard Steve mumble, before hearing the sound of him clearly spitting into the palm of his hand rang loud in your ear, the sound going straight to your core, your arousal coating your fingers and leaking down onto the sheets, “and I’ll give you the real thing, real soon, I promise, but can you do one thing for me?”

Your fingers slowed as your eyebrows pinched together before you stuttered out, “Yes, Steve, I’ll do anything.”

Steve wished you could see the smirk on his face at your response, his fingers still wrapped firmly around his aching cock as his spoke, “Wanna grab that flesh coloured toy I know you keep in your bottom drawer and fuck yourself with it f’me?”

You gasped at his request, your movements all but stopping in their tracks. You wracked your brain as to how he would know what you kept in that drawer but you were all but stumped. The silence on your end of the line had Steve wondering if he’d crossed a line and taken it too far but he couldn’t help himself.

Truth is, he’d seen the silicone length, complete with veins, tucked away when you’d left the drawer open accidentally when you’d excused yourself to the bathroom a month or so ago. And Steve found it simply impossible to get the image of you filling yourself up with the toy out of his mind.

“Is that okay?” Steve asked, bottom lip held firmly between his teeth now. Heat rising to his cheeks at the thought of being rejected. He could hear you moving and rustling at the other end, the anticipation making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His heart was racing, his hands growing clammy. Saliva thick in his mouth as his stomach churned with nerves.

You settled back against your plump pillows with the dildo in hand, holding the phone to your ear once more. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at the toy, “I have it.” you squeaked out, feeling yourself get wetter by the second.

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” Steve purred, his fist beginning to pump at his cock once more, “now can you suck on it a little? Get it nice and wet f’me, baby.”

You mumbled a little mhm down the phone and Steve could only imagine what you looked like with, could only dream about what you would like with his own cock in your mouth, bright eyes blinking up at him and spit dripping down your chin. Fuck, what Steve wouldn’t give to see that.

You whined down the receiver as your hand was preoccupied, leaving you to only be able to squeeze your thighs together. The sound of you sucking and slurping on the silicone cock made Steve impossibly harder, his cock now aching and throbbing, the tip angry and leaking precum.

Steve’s jaw went slack at the sound of the dildo hitting the back of your throat, gagging on the toy, a string of spit still attached to the thing as you pulled it from your mouth. You breathed heavy down the line as you regained your composure.

“Christ,” Steve groaned, his stomach tensing as he squeezing his eyes shut, “why don’t you stretch out that little hole for me?”

You gulped at his words, teasing yourself with the toy like you usually did. Letting the tip of the dildo brush over your clit a couple times before you pushed the head into your entrance, wincing at the sweet little stretch it created. You moaned loudly once you sunk the toy a quarter of the way in, moving it in and out slowly.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve cooed, “can you go a little faster for me? Wanna hear how wet that pretty little pussy is.”

“Fuck, Steve,” you moaned before obeying his wishes, speeding up your movements, fucking the dildo in and out of your cunt faster now. In a deliberate attempt to tease the boy, get him real riled up, you pulled on the phone, stretching the cord until the receiver was closer to the apex of your thighs.

The loud sound of the wet slap of your pussy as you fucked yourself with the toy boomed over the line and Steve reacted as expected. Hand tugging on his cock faster now, his feet firmly planted on his mattress as he bucked his hips up into his hand, his breath getting heavier and his moans getting louder.

You brought the phone back to your ear so you could moan out the boy’s name, “Oh, Steve,” you whimpered, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.

“You’re doing so well, honey, fuck–” Steve groaned, “taking that cock so well, huh? Can’t wait to see you take the real thing, shit, bet that pussy’s just the sweetest little thing, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, yeah, Stevie,” you whined, bucking your hips to match the movements of the toy, “wish you were here. Need your cock so bad.”

Steve wasn’t even here and you were already so fucked out, so close to your orgasm, one you knew was going to wipe you out. The sound of his strained voice over the line, his unruly and raspy moans were driving you insane.

“Don’t worry pretty girl,” he cooed, “you’ll get it real soon, I’ll fuck you real good, nice and deep. I bet that’s how you like it, hm?”

Once Steve opened his mouth the words wouldn’t stop. There was no going back now, no hiding any feelings, no sparing himself of any embarrassment. The poor boy was drunk on you, drunk on the sweet little whines and whimpers that found their way down the phone receiver.

“It is, yes, fuck, it is,” you cried, “I need to cum, Steve, please?” You dropped your grip on the toy, your fingers resuming their circles on your clit, your movements becoming faster, “Oh, please can I cum?”

“Fucking hell,” Steve groaned, his own orgasm around the corner, “yeah, go on baby, cum for me.”

The boy’s words pushed you over the edge, your legs shaking as you writhed on the bed. Your pussy fluttered as you came, moaning Steve’s name down the receiver like a song, the sweetest melody that Steve had ever heard.

“That’s my good girl, does that feel good?” Steve’s palm was slick with his own spit as it was wrapped tightly around his cock, pumping his fist harder and faster. Steve moaned loudly as you rode out your high, his own climax a stroke of his cock away.

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, toes curling into the sheets as he came, painting his stomach with ropes of hot cum. Babbling words of praise and incoherent moans into the phone, followed by heavy breaths.

The line went quiet for a beat, nothing to be heard but the both of you catching your breaths and regaining your composure. Your head became clear now, no longer tipsy, no longer desperate, suddenly realising what had just happened. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you went to speak, before Steve cut you off.

“I think I owe you a real date after that,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “pick you up at 7?”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve Harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #k.fic

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inoreuct · 7 months

Text

i’m thinking about zosan.

thinking about sanji who says you’re the dumbest fucking man i’ve ever met but also god, i’m so in love with you it hurts and you call and i answer, because you’d do the same. i would move mountains to get to you if you needed me.

thinking about zoro who says you’re a priss and an ass and absolutely insufferable but also i’d fucking kill for you. i don’t know what i’d do if you ever got hurt because that would mean i failed to protect you and also i’ll be there. no matter what, i will be there. say my name and i’ll cross oceans for you.

zosan who bicker and fight and and snip at each other’s heels like they’re getting paid for it, but as soon as one of them actually gets hurt it’s over.

zoro takes a bullet to the side and sanji’s there, furious and incandescent in his rage, covering for him, fighting for the both of them because he can. he’s strong enough for zoro to be weak, just for a moment.

sanji gets a slash to the thigh and zoro’s tearing across the battlefield with a vengeance, desperately cutting down anything that gets in his way because they’re insignificant, they don’t matter, not now, not ever, not when sanji’s compromised.

and their love isn’t all just blind rage in the name of protectiveness, either; it’s the way sanji stocks up on zoro’s favourite liquor and yet still locks the cabinet to give zoro the satisfaction of stealing it and not getting caught. it’s the way zoro appears in the galley after dinner, gently taking the clean plates from sanji’s hands with a dishcloth, drying as sanji washes.

it’s the way their things keep shifting around until there are more of sanji’s clothes in zoro’s room than zoro’s, until zoro’s sword cleaning kit becomes a permanent fixture on sanji’s nightstand. they still decide to not share quarters; they’d really drive each other mad if they did. they’re the kind of people who need their own space.

but on the nights when the quiet gets a little too quiet and the silence gets a little too loud, they know where to go. they show up at each other’s doors in the middle of the night to crawl back into sleep-warm sheets and familiar arms; zoro runs hot and sanji runs cold, and it never gets too much of either.

the nightmares are vicious, with the lives they lead. the ghosts of their pasts are still very much alive when they close their eyes. but when it gets too much, there is always, always a door open. a designated side of the bed. soft reassurances mumbled half-asleep but no less concerned, no less tender, lips pressed to mussed hair, a second heartbeat, an anchor, a safe port to dock in the night.

and even when they don’t need the company they seek each other out anyway, simply because they can and they want to; late nights in the flickering light of the electric lamps, laughter hushed so that they don’t wake the others, curled together so closely they can’t tell which limbs belong to whom. it’s easy— warm and content and strong like the rhythm of the sea, and they don’t need to say anything to hear what they already know. i know you. you know me. i care for you. you care for me. i choose you and you choose me and i need you, i never learned how to love but by god will i try, because i’m learning from how you love me.

their love is a constant. it flows like the waves they sail, but it will never ebb— and it says we may fight and we may argue but i don’t care, i don’t care, i will be there. call for me. please. do not doubt me. do not doubt us. we may drift but you are the home i return to. i will come home, always. always, for you. to you.

#zosan #one piece zosan #op zosan #zoro x sanji #ronoroa zoro #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #they make me SICK #SICK I SAY #GGGJFHFHHFHDHDHDJHD #one piece sanji #one piece zoro #one piece #one piece but my heart is no longer in one piece because of these clowns

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