#at least have the courage to say what it is and while you're at it stop harassing other fans
Text
Fallen Angel (Smiling Critters Space Riders AU Reader Insert) Part 4
Summary: Bobby has been dealing with a lot of guilt ever since you went into rehab. Now that you're finally getting released, she's determined to make it up to you.
Two chapters in one day! Let's go! Check out the other parts here. The Smiling Critters Space Riders AU belongs to @onyxonline. Enjoy!
TW: Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Injury, Trauma, Death mentions, Mentions of assassination attempts, Religious Trauma, Religious Imagery and Symbolism, Religious Cults, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Self harm Attempt, Mention of Suicide Attempt, Mental Health Issues, Brief Anxiety Attack, Slight cursing, LOTS of negative thoughts, Implied Abuse, Conditioning
----------
Bobby woke up and shot herself out of bed before her alarm could finish its first beep. She puts on her uniform, goes through her usual routine, and finishes by the time everyone else wake up. The other riders exchange worried glances amongst each other but they say nothing to Bobby.
Today’s the day the riders pick you up from the treatment center so you can continue to serve your sentence with them. Sure, serving your sentence in the same station where they kept the other prisoners would seem like the obvious choice, if you were any other enemy to the galaxy, that is. But the fact is, you’re not, and Commander Ludwig isn’t sure just how many more break-ins he and the medical staff are able to handle.
Of course, word would get around that the Prototype’s archangel was being confined at HQ’s treatment center. To no one’s surprise, anyone with a vendetta and a craving for bloodshed, would try to find you and your cell. You never got hurt, at least. No extra security measures are enough to dissuade them it seems.
Bobby gets herself situated in the cockpit, glancing back and forth between the starry scenery, the clock on the wall, and the navigation tab open in front of Dogday. She sighs while absent-mindedly bouncing her leg hard enough to turn the couch into a massage chair.
“Are you sure you want to come with us, Bobby?” Dogday’s concerned voice pulls her out of her thoughts. “It’s okay if you want to stay behind while we get (Y/n). There’s no pressure. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
Bobby gives her best reassuring, confident smile.
“Dogday, I appreciate your concern, but I can’t avoid (Y/n) forever. I have to face them eventually. And I really do want to see them.”
There is a brief moment of silence before Dogday sighs, nods, and goes back to piloting the ship. Bobby goes back to glancing out the window, her smile quickly disappearing.
She didn’t lie. She really wanted to visit you. Just once. Everyone else has visited you at least a few times, but Bobby couldn’t even find the courage to visit you after what happened in your old prison cell. None of her teammates held it against her, but she sure as heck did. She's a trained medic for crying out loud! She shouldn't have been acting hysterical the way she was, especially when you needed her the most. She's dealt with blood and injuries before. She's dealt with a few mentally unstable cultists during her time as a Space Rider. She's even helped out people in similar situations like you before.
No!
She has to remember that she may not have been much help during such a critical moment, but help came to you on time. You’re surrounded by trained medics and from what the other riders have told her, you’ve been recovering well in the treatment center. That's what matters!
Part of her, however, still holds onto the fear that if she visited your cell, she would find you all bloody and on the edge of death again. Some nights, she would have nightmares about that.
What if it happens today?
Soon enough, they arrive at the Space Station. Straightening her uniform and taking a deep breath, Bobby follows Dogday into the station. Thankfully, the treatment center was close to the hangars. It made the transporting of the injured easier for everyone.
The pair stop at the entrance. Dogday looks back at Bobby with a reassuring smile, gesturing back to the hangars. Bobby returns the smile, more sincere and determined this time. She shakes her head and stares at the neon sign above the entrance. She is going to see you today and she will not back down.
Not this time nor any time going forward.
Dogday nods in understanding, and the pair make their way inside. They check in and wait which didn't take long. Dogday sees you first, and greets you warmly. Bobby turns to where her captain was looking and there you were.
You walk out the hallway with two riders and a doctor. Bobby frowns upon seeing the handcuffs on you. She hated the idea of you being locked in a cell while needing to be hospitalized. Sure, you’ve done terrible things, and you served a terrible being, but you must’ve had a good reason. Call her crazy but she believes there is some good in you.
The riders hand Bobby your bag and stand at attention while the doctor and Dogday discuss your treatment plan going forward. Bobby tries to pay attention, but finds herself too busy staring at you. In her defense, how can she not? She's seeing you for the first time in six months.
She was ACTUALLY seeing you without any bandages, bruises, cuts, or that awful mask you always wore. For the first time, Bobby is seeing the real you, the one everyone called the Archangel. Her teammates were right about you. Not only do you look healthier, but you just look...
Beautiful.
Like...
REALLY beautiful.
You glance her way, and she smiles and waves (albeit very awkwardly). You nod in her direction and turn your focus back to the conversation between Dogday and the doctor.
Oh god, this is awkward.
After a brief exchange of thank you's and goodbyes from both sides, Bobby and Dogday quickly escort you back to the ship.
----------
You internally breathe a sigh of relief the moment you entered the Space Riders’ ship. You weren’t sure how much longer you could handle all those eyes glancing your way. You were waiting for someone to come out of the shadows some way and finish you off just like those intruders that try to break into your cell.
Now that thought made you tense up again despite it being only you and the eight Space Riders in this ship. You couldn't sense any other energies in the ship, but that didn't ease your racing mind one bit. Who knows what the Space Riders will do to you now that they are not forced to follow social protocols?
You still have those damn power mufflers on you. Sure, that shouldn't stop you from fighting, but not only are you surrounded by four riders who have celestial powers, but you're surrounded by four non-celestial riders who, unfortunately, handle themselves well in combat. Unless you can outsmart all eight of them and break your power mufflers in the process, you don't see yourself winning this fight. It's best to be smart about all this.
"Okay, so, first things first, welcome back, (Y/n). We're happy that you're here with us," the Captain begins while clasping his hands together, making you stand straight at full attention. "It's okay, relax. It's just introductions. Nothing formal."
You're not sure if this is supposed to be a test or not, but you would rather not risk failing it when you just got here. You continue to stand at full attention, waiting for the Captain to continue. The Captain sighs, and clears his throat before continuing
"Anyways, I know there's a lot to do and discuss, and you probably have some questions. Don't worry, we'll get to that in time. But since this is your first day back, I think it would be best to try and get you settled in. I can show you where you'll be staying and-"
"Actually," interrupted Bobby, "I can show (Y/n) where they'll be staying."
"Are you sure?" the Captain asks with hesitation in his voice.
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure."
The only response she is met with is silence. You wait for something to happen: an argument, physical discipline, a speech, or a fair sentence. You never saw the Captain incorporate the type of punishments that the Prototype did.
At least in public anyways.
But now that he is no longer in the public eye, you're not sure if you're ready to witness the truth for the first time, but you prepare yourself for it anyways. Instead, to your surprise, the first thing the Captain does is take the handcuffs off you, but not the power mufflers.
"Okay, if you're sure."
Bobby cheerfully thanks the Captain and escorts you to the direction of the prison cells. You reach the entrance leading to the prison cells, but Bobby just... passes it. Did she not pay attention to where she was going? Why is she passing it?
You want to ask, but you force yourself to keep quiet. She could be looking to punish you for making her suffer with your selfishness. That’s why she never visited you during your rehabilitation. Instead, she leads you to the riders’ sleeping quarters and into one sleeping quarter that you know was never occupied. All the furniture arranged was as you remember it from previous battles except the bed is now neatly made.
“Here we are. Your new room. It’s not much, but I think it’ll be a nice change of environment for you after being hospitalized for almost a year.”
Not much? This is a lot more than what you see in the sleeping quarters back home. This is much more than the cells you were in for the last several months. If this isn’t “much” to the heretics, then what does having a lot look like to them?
“Crafty and I made some clothes for you. She noticed you like having your head covered, so we made you a lot of hoodies.”
You silently take in every little detail of the room.
“This is all mine?”
“Yes, it is. We weren’t sure how you wanted your room decorated, but we’ll figure that out over time.” Why would it matter how you wanted to decorate this room? At least the Space Riders are giving you, their prisoner, one in the first place. It’s selfish to ask for more than what you deserve. “Picky is making a special dinner to celebrate your recovery and coming back. I’ll come get you when it’s ready. I’ll leave you alone to get settled.” Bobby’s voice cuts off your thoughts, even when you don’t say anything. She smiles and makes her way to the door.
“Thank you,” you say suddenly. Bobby stops dead, turns to you slowly. Her eyes widen.
“What did you say?”
You clear your throat and straighten yourself up. “Considering the fact I’m your prisoner, this is a very generous accommodation.”
Bobby continues to stare at you, and you're questioning if you said the wrong thing already. Not even one hour into your return and you’re already making mistakes. Maybe she’ll change her mind and decide a cell is a more fitting place, but instead of her screaming, or silence and storming away from you, she smiles. “You're not our prisoner here, (Y/n). You're our guest. We want to help you get better. I’m just happy that you’re here with us.”
With that, you are left alone. You hastily dig into your bag which Bobby must have placed in the on the dresser. Thankfully, your journal and the books given to you by Bubba were still there.
You pull one of the drawers and they were full of very thick long-sleeved shirts with hoods. “Hoodies” as Bobby called them. But… which one are you supposed to wear? Bobby never specified which one was mandatory for you, and you couldn’t just ask. You would get punished for not knowing when it should be obvious. You grip the skin of your forearm tightly.
No.
No, no.
No, no, no.
Fight back the temptation to see red! You can’t risk being sent back again. Just take some deep breaths.
In…
Hold…
Out…
Repeat.
Just like the healers taught you. Soon enough, your grip loosens and thankfully, there was no sign of red.
You look back at the drawer of “hoodies.” Since the Space Riders wear white while off duty, then perhaps the white one would be your safest choice. You sigh, hoping that line of reasoning will hold true during mealtime. You relax more when the warmth and softness cover you. The best part was that hood covered your head. It was no mask, but it was better than having your entire head exposed. You were just relieved you no longer had to rely on those infirmary blankets to keep your body and head covered. At least there were no cameras installed in your accommodation… to your knowledge.
Since you had no orders given until mealtime, you decided to explore more of the room. Maybe if you are good, then living as a prisoner of the heretics won’t be so terrible. Maybe you will be able to survive Hell after all.
----------
Stay tuned for the next part "Burn Bright Until You Burn Out"
#smiling critters#poppy playtime dogday#dogday#poppy playtime catnap#poppy playtime smiling critters#poppy playtime 3#poppyplaytime au#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#catnap#space riders au#smiling critters au#onyxriders#hoppy hopscotch#kickinchicken#picky piggy#bubba bubbaphant#craftycorn#bobby bearhug#platonic#x reader#smiling critters x reader#poppy playtime x reader#gn reader#reader insert#gender neutral reader#angst#hurt/comfort#recovery#platonic relationships
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tf2 mercenaries x Seductress! Class! Reader
Warning: nsfw content, female reader, sexism
Scout
When Scout heard that there's a woman who's a professional at seduction, he had already started plotting.
"Hello, name is Y/n L/n, but you can call me the Seductress. It's nice to meet you."
"Heya, nice to meet cha' mommy- Oh, i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy i mean mommy-"
Constantly hits on you. Scout believes that you're the type of girl that's 'easy', someone who will let anyone bang them regardless of who they are.
That boy isn't going to leave you alone until you let him into your pants.
Even when he's not busy trying to get in between your legs, Scout is asking you for advice on how to woo the ladies. Considering you're a professional at flirting with people.
You go back and forth on giving him good advice and bad advice. Sometimes you feel bad that he can't get a girlfriend. Then again, you think to yourself that no woman should be within three feet of Scout because of how much of a horny asshole he is.
After some time, you did grow to have a soft spot for him. Since he's bullied a lot by the other mercenaries. He can be kinda cute when he's not being a complete jerk.
Soldier
Soldier treats you like the other mercenaries. Ruthlessly bleating in your ear when you're doing something wrong.
"GIVE ME ONE HUNDRED SQUATS NOW! I WANT THAT AMERICAN ASS NICE AND PERKY BY THE TIME YOU'RE DONE!"
He wants the best from you. Regardless of your gender, he'll push you to the limit until he's proud enough to call you a warrior.
Soldier tests that you're a good seductress by making you flirt with him. It's an ego boost on his part, but he's genuinely trying to make sure you're hot enough for the enemy.
"YOU CALL THAT FLIRTING!? I'VE HEARD BETTER FLIRTING FROM A MONKEY! AT LEAST THEY CAN PUCKER THEIR LIPS BETTER UNLIKE YOURS!"
Buys you clothing that he believes would work well when you're seducing the enemies. It's always american themed swimwear or lingerie. You began to believe he's just buying that for himself for you to try.
Whenever the team successfully wins for the day, Soldier immediately rushes towards and smacks your ass as hard as he can.
"NOW THAT IS AN ASS I'M PROUD TO CALL AMERICAN!"
Sniper
Sniper believes your work is very unprofessional. Considering he believes you have to whore yourself out to the enemy team. Instead of using your actual skills.
He says he has nothing against prostitution or sex work in general. Sniper just thinks that stuff you do should be kept behind doors and not on the battlefield. He says it causes too much of a distraction. However, you claim that 'distraction' is the point. Sniper doesn't seem to get it.
You honestly could care less what he thinks. Snipers throws jars of piss for a living, and he really thinks he has the right to judge other people?
The truth is you're good at seducing people. Too good. That it distracts him from doing his own job. Sniper has a tendency to watch you through the scope of his gun.
The way your body gets all hot and sweaty from the terrible heat, oh it does something to him. Sniper has imagined licking your sweat off your tits while you degrade him for being such a filthy fuck.
You are his go-to jerk off material. The women in his porno magazines don't get him off like they used. The only way he can relieve himself now is by imagining your fat ass bouncing on his cock.
When he noticed a pair of your panties in the laundry basket, Sniper couldn't help himself to inhale the sweet scent of your panties before putting them back.
Sniper knows he's a damn hypocrite.
He slut shames you for what you do, only to get off to you afterwards. The post nut clarity consumes him with guilt and shame.
Sniper still hasn't built up the courage to apologize to you.
Heavy
Heavy is one of the very few people who treat you like an actual human being. He was raised by a single mother alongside three sisters. Heavy knows to treat a woman right. Less he wishes to face their fury.
Heavy doesn't understand why you seduce the enemy. You're supposed to shoot at the enemy, not bat your eyelashes and wink! However, after watching your work on the battlefield, he gets to more of an understanding.
"Oh, I see. You lie to enemy and lure them in like fish? HA! Very clever!"
Absolutely loves gunning down the enemy that is distracted by you.
Is one of the few men who genuinely falls for you for your personality. Heavy knows you're drop-dead gorgeous, but he knows that beneath all that beauty is a truly intelligent woman. You earned your place on the team by impressing Mann Co., with your skills instead of batting your eyelashes and begging to be a part of the team. You make his heart swoon like no other woman has.
He likes to write you poetry. It helps convey how he feels for you because he's too bashful to put it into simple words.
Heavy is not afraid of anything. Nothing, not even death itself. However, it took him a lot of courage and constant rehearsal to ask you out on a date.
He hopes to start a genuine relationship with you. Heavy doesn't want a one-night stand or be friends-with-benefits with you. He wants you to be his girlfriend and maybe possibly his wife later down the line.
Engineer
"Well, I'll be! Aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever seen."
Engineer is taken aback by your good looks and sauve personality. He genuinely questions why you wanted to be a mercenary. A beautiful lady like yourself is too of high risk to get hurt!
Will always be there to help you if it gets too much for you to handle.
However, he can be very overprotective over you on the battlefield. Engineer thinks it would be safer for you to stay on the rancho relaxo than getting shot at by the enemy. As much as you'd like to not do anything on the job, Mann Co. isn't paying you to be lazy. They see everything and will tell you to get off your ass and start fighting.
You have to beg Engineer that you can do it on your own. He understands your point of view and begrudgingly lets you fight with the others. Even if it means going against his code of defending and protecting a lady when she needs it.
While putting up dispensers and sentries, he can't help to admire you from afar. Engie believes that a guy like him has no chance with a girl like you. What woman would be interested in a bald man who has a robotic hand and locks himself away in his work? No gal that's who.
Engie fantasizes about working up the courage to flirt with you and ask you out, which would eventually lead to a rather sensual night spent together. He did try to ask you out once but miserably failed. Engie kept stuttering and mispronouncing words out of nervousness while attempting to seduce you. You couldn't make out what he was trying to say. Thankfully, Demo had the heart to pull Engie out of that mess of a conversation and save him from further embarrassing himself.
So now, he just admires you from afar. Dreaming that one day he'll get to win your heart.
Spy
Surprisingly, he wants to get to know you as soon as possible. It's not every day you get to meet a lovely lady.
When he learns of your class type, oh boy, this man will make you question if you're even meant to be the Seductress.
"Mademoiselle, you are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid my eyes on."
"Do you know why they call Paris the city of love? Why don't I take you there and show you?"
"If the verb ‘to love’ didn’t exist, I would have invented it upon seeing you."
Spy leaves your entire face red and completely frozen after he's done talking to you. He's so flattering and charismatic. In comparison to the other men, he makes it seem like they're not trying at all. It isn't their fault, though, Spy is a natural at wooing the ladies.
You're surprised when Spy gifts you things that you really like. You never shared these intimate details with him before or with the other mercenaries. When you asked him how he knew what you specifically liked, Spy merely winks at you and grins. He has a way of receiving information without anyone knowing.
He has a tendency to kiss the back of your hand whenever you two are greeting each other. Spy is a gentleman and can't help himself to be sweet to a beautiful woman.
When Spy asks you out on a date, you agree to it because you have been meaning to go out. You felt like you'd go insane if you stayed in the base any longer. You put on your best dress and left with Spy into town.
After having a nice meal and a few glasses of wine, both of you give into temptation. Spy could hardly keep his hands off you when he drove you both back to the base. All your clothes came off the moment you reached his bedroom. You found it a little strange he refused to take off his mask. Oh, what the hell. He's hot and treated you to a nice date.
In the morning, you receive uncomfortable stares from the other mercenaries. Let's just say you and Spy weren't exactly quiet during your lovemaking. Unfortunately for the others, you decided Spy would become your fuck buddy.
Medic
He's been meaning to include a female subject in his experiments- I mean, he's glad to meet you!
You try your best to steer clear of him. However, on the front lines, it isn't so easy. When you're constantly getting shot at and stabbed by enemies, you'll need the Medic's help to get better.
When he sees you in action, Medic feels a new emotion that he's never felt before. Is this.. love? Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just lust.
Medic has never been infatuated with any woman. Except you. The way you lure in these pathetic men with your good looks and false promises, only to kill them afterwards- oh God, it makes him giddy. He feels like a schoolboy all over again!
Medic does routine check-ups on you. To make sure all your lady parts are in working order. In reality, this perverted fuck wants to have an excuse to grope you. Always gaslights you into believing he's not being a degenerate.
"Is this really necessary?"
"Why, of course! Breast cancer isn't something to take lightly!" He'd respond. You would understand, but after thirty minutes of him fondling your breasts, you knew what his true intentions were.
Medic writes you love letters and his dove, Archimedes, deliver them to you.
The letters start off relatively sweet. Medic writes that he views you as a Goddess, a truly ethereal being that is too perfect for this world filled with lesser mortals. And how he's the only man truly worthy for you.
Then, the letters take a complete turn the more you read it. He writes how he wishes to fulfill every filthy fantasy he's ever had with you. Oh boy, the list is long. For one, Medic wants to tie you down, gag you, and breed you like the filthy whore you are. Another consited of how he wants to fuck you on the battlefield while you're bleeding out and fingering your open wound as if it was your pussy.
You've stopped reading his letters and tend to light them on fire.
Demoman
"So, how much do you regularly charge for a quick shag?" He'd ask you before laughing his ass off.
Demo will never take you or your work seriously. Even if you politely ask him to.
He doesn't see what's so hard about showing off your tits and saying how much you love to suck cock. Demo believes you should've been a stripper if you wanted to tease men so desperately.
You frequently explain to him in detail how you help and provide for the team. You honestly can't tell if Demo deliberately forgets or because he gets drunk so often, he hardly pays attention to you while you talk.
Don't worry, though. After you've instilled the fear of women into him, he'll be gladly reminded that he shouldn't judge or ridicule a woman. If his mother were here, she'd knock some sense into him.
Demo apologizes to you, drinks, gets drunk, and apologies some more
"I'm sorry, lassie! It's just that I just get so lonely sometimes! What woman would give me, a one-eyed freak, a chance!"
He bawls on the floor, crying in front of you. You attempt to cheer him up by comforting him. Instead, you end up getting drunk with him.
Did you shag him in the heat of the moment? That's all up to you ;)
Pyro
Has no idea what you're doing to the enemy. Anything sexual you do is translated as innocent in their vision. Will never know what real seduction or sex.
Luckily, they think everything you do is nice and polite!
Regularly gives you grotesque gifts, which are usually human hearts and bones. You begrudgingly take the gifts because you know they mean well and don't wish to be disrespectful.
Pyro has a tendency to go through your closet when you leave your room. Or while you're sleeping. Either why, they steal your clothing and belongings. They pick out outfits and wigs they like along with makeup supplies. You wonder where you placed your dress and immediately begin searching for it. Maybe you left it in the laundry room. As soon as you exit your room, you see Pyro wearing your clothing over their suit. Fake eyelashes have been glued onto their eyes, and lipstick smeared all over the breathing hole.
You can't even be upset with Pyro. They're doing their best.
You let Pyro keep the dress they're wearing, considering it most likely wouldn't fit you anymore.
#tf2#tf2 soldier#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#tf2 demoman#tf2 pyro#tf2 scout#tf2 spy#tf2 sniper#tf2 engineer#tf2 x reader#tf2 x you
43 notes
·
View notes
Note
Omg I was trying to write you a anon message about something and my cat bumped me before I could word it how it right so I can’t tell if it sent or deleted it
If you just got a unfinished and awkward ask wining about how unfair it feels that shipping crosshunt or fivesecho etc will get us attacked and run of the platform while the same people with the pitchforks post about rampart SA-ing crosshair while he was in a state that made consent literally impossible that was really frustrating me this morning 😅
I was trying to trim it down and make it less rambling when my cat bumped me lol. I’m firmly in the ship you ship camp it just bugs me consensual clone shipping is the most evil thing you can do here but they can drool over crosshair being violated
Sorry if you got both these aks 🫣 I’m just sleepy and head over heels for crosshunt and it makes me sad I have to vague post and use sneaky tags to not get hate mail and/or blocked when it is my comfort ship idk if any of that made sense
You're all good! I only got this one ask!
I've been seeing this/thinking about it a lot too. Especially with the antis panicked around this little showrunner interaction.
People literally begged in the comments for clarification, hoping that the Kiners were talking about Rampart/CX, and not cloneshipping.
And I'm like... what mental gymnastics do you have to commit to believe that NONCON is more wholesome than cloneshipping. Like don't get me wrong, I've written some fucked up stuff, including noncon, but I can't find a situation where I would write a Rampart and a clone, let alone Crosshair, and it not be noncon. I couldn't even pull it off as dubcon. That is straight up, no consent is happening there, no matter what either party says.
And again, I don't care if people ship Rampart and a clone. I'm a big fan of Hydra Trash Party, and this is basically the Imperial Trash Party. But let's not pretend it's anything but noncon/dead dove. And for these same people to judge and harass cloneshippers? Nah. Glass houses and all that.
But that would be expecting antis to be consistent about their own fictional preferences and tastes, and that's asking far too much of someone who has an illogical stance to begin with.
I'm sorry you have to deal with that, a fandom where torturing a clone is fine, but having them be in a consensual relationship with another clone is a moral outrage.
#star wars#the bad batch#cx#crosshair#rampart#at least for me i'm seeing a LOT of anti cloneshippers saying that crosshair and rampart used to date#and i'm like#that's not dating my dude#at least have the courage to say what it is and while you're at it stop harassing other fans#i hope that helps anon bc you're not the only one feeling a little salty about it
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
I read this thing about how lovely it is to jack off a shy boy and the whole time I was thinking about Yuuta Okkotsu, so was wondering if you could write reader giving him a reach around? Please and thank you. n3n I think calling him a good boy and hearing his whimpers would be amazing
Oh man, you're totally right Anon, that would be so cute.
Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu x Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, handjob, praise kink, whimpering, cum eating, shy!Yuta
A/N: Is there such a thing as a shyness kink? If there is I think I have that, I think shy people are super cute.
Shy!Yuta yelps when he feels your hand on his cock. He didn't think you'd notice his hard-on if he was quiet. But you did and you decided to do something about it, right now, which he didn't expect given his surprised expression.
Shy!Yuta tries to keep his voice down while you fish his cock out and start stroking it. There's no real reason for that, it's just the two of you alone, he could be as loud as he wants. He always was more on the quiet side though. You really hope to change that.
Shy!Yuta is too flustered to tell you to go faster. He would take any stroking pace you're willing to give him, the man isn't that picky really. Still you can tell on his face that he wants something, he should really ask you for things more often.
Shy!Yuta wraps his hand over yours and shows you the pace he likes best. Still he doesn't say a word about it, keeping it to whispers and moans as you stroke him faster, the broader, longer strokes that make his eyes roll back every time your warm palm rolls over his leaky tip.
Shy!Yuta can't even muster the courage to tell you how good he's feeling right now. All of his praise are half-words and half-moans. He can't even keep his eyes open fully, they're hazy and watery, half open watching as your hand goes up and down his cock.
Shy!Yuta rolls his hips into your hand when it stops moving. He's begging, wordlessly, for you to keep going. His cum is already dripping down your hand, he just needs a little more, a few more strokes until he's finished.
Shy!Yuta finally uses his words when he feels your breath on his sensitive cockhead. He's finally come to a point where he can't take it anymore, he has to ask you to keep going. Or else... or else he's gonna lose his god damn mind.
Shy!Yuta lets his eyes roll to the back of his head as you start stroking him again. His grip is strong on you, his words once again not understandable but at least he's letting them out, being vocal and telling what and how he needs it.
Shy!Yuta chokes on air when you praise him while licking all of his cum off his cock. This is his reward for being honest with his desires. He should really do it more often, come out of his shell a bit more, it's gonna get him even more rewards of he does.
Shy!Yuta is blushing so hard right now and even more when you kiss the tip of his cock right before swallowing all of the cum that you licked off it. He can't look you in the eye anymore. So he doesn't see the kiss coming when you place it on his lips.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuta smut#yuuta smut#jjk headcanons#jjk imagines#yuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu smut#jjk x you#jjk yuta#yuta x reader#yuuta okkotsu smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Stay with me
Gp!Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Summary: After a mission together, Natasha thinks it's time to talk about how she really feels (I'm terrible with summaries sorry)
WC: 2,4k
Warnings: SMUT, masturbation, riding, unprotected sex, Nat has a penis
MINORS DNI. Masterlist N.R
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
It’s 1am, the loud sound making your ears twitch and certainly missions where you have to seduce an arms dealer tycoon to get information not your favorite . You're now sitting on some mob boss's lap or something, the only thing you're thinking about is when is this guy going to drop something that will actually help you.
You feel hands running down your thighs and waist and you force yourself to smile and pretend you're loving all this attention, he kisses your neck while talking to another guy. You puts on her best innocent girl face who has no idea what they're talking about.
Looking around the room you can feel a pair of green eyes practically devouring you, the way Natasha is, she seems to be one step away from doing something crazy to get this guy to get his hands off you.
His relationship with Natasha has always been marked by ups and downs. He started with small flirtations, It evolved into big make-out sessions when no one was around, until you started being friends with benefits.
This was never something you liked very much, but you were already madly in love with the redhead and you decided that having her in the early hours of the morning would be better than not having her at all.
Natasha is a mysterious person, sometimes she just wants rough sex, pushing your head on the pillow and fucking you for as long as she can. But sometimes all she wants is laying your head on your chest to talk about things and it leaves you confused because every time you try to talk about feelings she just cuts you
The last time you tried to talk to her about feelings it didn't work out very well and you ended up drifting apart, so being on a mission alone with Natasha is worrying to say the least.
You come back to reality when you finally managed to hear the information you needed, all you had to do was find out the place where a big weapons transfer would be made and it was which was achieved. You look at Natasha who is already staring at you.
You slide off the man's lap and he doesn't seem to even notice you leaving, you walk over to the redhead and discreetly tell her that I got the information. Without wanting any more time in that place, you and the redhead immediately leave that nightclub.
The two of you decided to stay one more night in the small hotel you were staying in, just to see if something else wouldn't happen. The whole way to the hotel was silent and uncomfortable and just imagining that you will have to share another night in bed with the redhead leaves you with shivers.
After you both go to bed, a silence falls between you two, you know you want to talk but neither of you has the courage to start a conversation.
“You seemed very comfortable in that pig's lap" Natasha says and you can feel the jealousy coming out of her. "Oh please, he smelled like old clothes and mold" you say frowning and Natasha thought cute the way your nose wrinkled when talking about the man
“What are you laughing at?" You say, turning to look at the woman and seeing her side profile. "Your accent comes out when you talk like that, you know? It's cute." And there it is again, Natasha who says nice things and it's completely fascinating.
You stay silent again, you need to talk but no one knows what to say first.
“Y/n…”
“Nat…”
You say at the same time, you ended up laughing and letting her talk. " You can talk.”
“I never wanted you to think it was just an affair for me, I admire you and everything you do is perfect. I love the way you try and I love the way you help people and do everything to achieve your dreams and believe me, I would do everything in my power to make them come true because you are my biggest inspiration. I never saw the need to be romantically with someone, for me love was for children and I never felt…”
Natasha took a deep breath and you knew she was doing a lot by opening up to you.
“I've been sexually with some people but I've never felt the need to have them in my life for more than one night. It turns out that with you I felt the need to have you, not just sexually, but I want to protect you and take care of you and help you because I love you.”
You are left speechless, that was all you wanted to hear from Natasha, all those words were much more than you imagined she could say.
You wanted to show Natasha that you also felt this, that you also felt scared and that you also felt this strong feeling and that you loved her too.
With these thoughts you decide to make a bold decision
Natasha seemed surprised and scared when you kissed her, but she held onto your hair without hesitation, sighing on your lips.
There was no language or eroticism, but it was enough to confirm your feelings that had been kept secret for so long.
For Natasha sex was just sex
Foreplay, penetration, orgasm
After that, everyone would leave and never see each other again.
Natasha can say, without error, that you were the first person she had truly kissed with tongue and mutual desire in years. In addition to awakening her most sincere desires. Natasha felt that being with you was something special, new and pure.
Natasha doesn't know if what surprised her most was that you took the initiative in the kiss or the speed at which it evolved.
Natasha thought it felt good to feel your lips on hers and your tongue play with hers. You kiss as if you both miss it, even though you've done it many times before and the last one not long ago.
Without realizing it, the kiss became stronger and more sensual as time passed. Natasha's hands go to her hips, wanting to deepen what they are doing even more. Hear your soft moans against her lips made her wake up from her trance
Natasha doesn't want you to think she said all that just to get you into bed.
“Y/n…” Natasha says, moving slightly away from you, wanting to hide all the desire and excitement she was feeling.
“I don't want to stop" you realize what she's thinking, your eyes meet hers and give her all the confidence she needed.
“We're two grown women Nat, you made a mistake and you apologized and it's not like I was totally right in ignoring you" Natasha's hands are still on her waist
“This is what you want?”
“that's what I want Nat.”
You made a quick path to Natasha's lap and Natasha sighs heavily when a movement of her hips brings yours intimacy into contact. Natasha knows that the movement wasn't accidental by the way you smile during the kiss, proud of the reaction she got from the redhead.
You have always been a calm person and Natasha never imagined that you would have such a bold attitude and this made Natasha anxious for the next step. Natasha takes a large part of your ass, squeezing it between her fingers and smiling.
When our air escapes, Natasha lays you on the bed, getting on top of you and attacking your lips once again. Everything is done quickly.
Her hands roam your body and her lips change their way to your neck when the air runs out once again..
In a hurry, the redhead simulates a penetration movement, causing their sexes to brush against each other once again. Even with the impediment of the pieces of clothing, Natasha feels her body hot when doing this
"Do it again” You ask
“I’ll do it… but I don’t want anything to get in my way this time.”
You understand what she means and give her the necessary consent to act. Natasha sits on the bed, taking off her pajama bottoms with your help..
When Natasha grabs the hem of your blouse, you shake your head in denial, asking for her to hurry up, you didn't want to delay anymore.
Deep down, Natasha wanted this to happen calmly, romantically, but just like you, she also doesn't want wait more
Natasha takes off the bottom part of her sweatpants, along with the boxer shorts that protected her sex. Natasha feels your gaze on every step she takes. You always looked at her with so much desire
Natasha takes off your panties, looking at your face and somehow finding in your gaze that this was your final decision, that you didn't regret it. You nod, taking her hand and take it to your pussy
Natasha massages her clitoris with the tips of her ring and middle fingers, listening to her heavy sigh and feeling the small spasm that her body gives.
You are so sensitive that with every touch she gives you, you react in a pleasant way, begging, even with gestures, that you want more.
Natasha sped up and slowed down when you asked, she inserted her fingers when you said you were ready and moved them as you wanted.
Her insides squeezed the redhead's fingers, squeezing them. You were absurdly wet, so after a few slow thrusts, your low moans of pain became pleas and moans of desire.
You hold the killer's hand and at first she understands it as a request for her to stop, but it wasn't that, it was completely the opposite. “Do not stop." Natasha sits down, moving towards your face and kissing you.
Their tongues move with the same speed as her fingers inside him. Natasha gets a little scared when she feels her fingers running down her belly, reaching her belly. .
Natasha lets out a muffled moan when your hands touch her dick. You are not calm when masturbating the redhead with both hands “Slower…” Natasha asks between moans, hiding her face in your neck. The mutual masturbation didn't last long. Within minutes Natasha was showing signs that she was going to cum, asking you to stop.
Natasha gets into an impasse over which position to choose. In the end, she ends up lying on top, since she didn't want to cum without looking into his eyes.
The redhead rests her arm on the mattress, using her free hand to help fit it into her entrance. As soon as she did, she released the breath trapped in her lungs, completely entering you.
“When I can move, let me know” Natasha says seeing the small face you made. “You can continue, I'm fine” you smile without showing your teeth, giving carte blanche to the redhead to move and start the thrusts.
They are slow. Natasha enters and leaves without any rush, enjoying the moment and the delicious feeling you give her. It's indescribable.The room is so hot at that moment. Being inside you was like heaven, even though the heat exuding from your bodies felt like hell.
Hearing her muffled moans was the only thing at that moment that gave Natasha the strength to hold back her orgasm. Yes... the only thing. Because if she hadn't been holding back so much, she would have released herself with your hands on her
Going slowly, trying not to think about the future helped the redhead to control herself. But you don't really like the way she's doing it. You ask the redhead every second to go faster and harder, she ignore them by following your own speed
Until, of your own accord, you lift your hips. The movement was so delicious that Natasha let out a loud moan, almost cumming right there. “Fuck... Don't do that” Natasha asks, lying down on your body. The redhead stops for a few seconds to compose herself, even so, she don't stop with the slow movements of her hips.
The slow movements you hated so much.
“Do you want to change?” you ask quietly, holding her waist so she could stop her thrusts “You look tired” you look into her eyes seeing the redhead with a sideways smile and arched eyebrows.
“Are you challenging me, Detka?” You lift your hips against hers once more, making her dick enter you once again, harder than the first time. “fuck fuck…”
“You look very tired, babe. I just want to help.” You say, trying to hide a smirk.
“Do better, babe” Natasha uses the same sarcasm as you, changing position and making you on top.
Before fitting her cock into your entrance, you remove your thin pajama shirt and your bra, giving the redhead full view of your completely naked body. It was as if your neck was calling her to be sucked.The redhead lifts up a little, going towards your neck, but your arm stops her. You wanted her to stay lying down.
When you sat on her and started to move, back and forth, making her dick move in and out, the killer realized that this little game was only going to end her
Damn... She won't take it.
The movement was quick, as you wanted. With each muffled moan that left her mouth, she felt her orgasm getting closer.Natasha grabs your hip, helping you with what you wanted. Working together so that we both reached yours orgasms.
The redhead doesn't care about anything anymore. She can't care about anything when her body is against hers, her lips attached to hers, her moans mixing against hers.
“Stay with me…” Natasha asks quietly, kissing your neck. “I don’t want to lose you, stay with me” Natasha begs
You do not answer. But your moan was like confirmation. The redhead, however, wants you to say it in so many words. “Say... Say you’ll stay” you kiss the redhead’s shoulder, nodding.
“I’ll stay… I love you Nat”
You can't hold back anymore. You have your orgasm while biting the redhead's shoulder hard. Natasha knows you want to moan and scream, but she knows you can't. It takes Natasha's ego through the roof, knowing that she gave you that orgasm. Your bite will leave a mark and she doesn't mind letting everyone see.
Natasha continues using her hips to make you move on her lap, hyperstimulating you and letting the peak that she held on to release so much…You moan feeling her cum filling you completely.
That night you spent the whole night together, enjoying each other's bodies, exchanging caresses and kisses. It was, without a doubt, the best night of of your life.
#natasha romanoff#marvel cinematic universe#black widow#black widow x reader#natasha marvel#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romonova#natasha x you#natasha x reader
895 notes
·
View notes
Text
Slashers Saying "I Love You" for the First Time Headcanon
A/N: This was meant to be the last post for Slasher Summer, but I have a recent request that will be posted next week <3
Michael Myers
Michael is clearly a man of few words
Showing affection in general is virtually impossible for him
So the night that you decided to lay it all on the table was one of confusion and sadness
"I love you," you had said softly
You had finally mustered up the courage to look at him after this, and he just stared back at you through the mask
You could feel the tears swelling up into your throat, your stomach growing queasy
He tilted his head at the falling tears
"I knew this was pointless. You don't feel a damn thing for me."
You went to stand up, but he just grabbed your wrist firmly, not letting you budge
You grew a bit angry at this
"Why am I still here if you feel nothing for me?!"
He pulled you closer to him
And you suddenly heard him speak quietly in a deep, rough voice
"You're the only life I'd never harm"
You felt your face soften at this
He isn't very good at verbally saying he loves you
But now you know he does
Jason Voorhees
Jason doesn't really speak much like the aforementioned man above him
But he is better with at least showing you that he cares
He always protects you, brings you anything you request
He has even gone out of his way to pick you flowers from the forest floor
They had some blood on them, but the sentiment was there
So when he came home later than normal one night, you about passed out from the relief
"Jesus, I thought something happened to you!" you hurried. "Don't ever do that again. I love you too much to just sit here and worry."
He grew incredibly still at this
Your face felt warm when you realized what you had said
You shifted your gaze down, only to feel his cold arms wrap around you tightly
He held you for quite a while like this, trying to show you that he felt the same
Freddy Krueger
You found yourself in Freddy's arms like you did every night
He was rubbing your back gently, trying to help you out of your slump
Today hadn't gone very well for you
With screaming customers, clumsy hands, and a migraine, work was about as calm as a hurricane for you
However, Freddy's presence alone was enough to relax you
Which was funny considering who he was
"I love you..." you murmured quietly
You continued to relax into him, only for his rubbing to stop
You opened your eyes suddenly when you realized
"Um..." you started
You finally met his gaze and saw the biggest grin on his face
"Well, it's about damn time," he rasped. "And I love you too."
Thomas Hewitt
Another man with little to say
He's a bit too shy to ever say those three words first, so when you finally broke and said them, he couldn't help but feel excited
You were cleaning a deep gash in his shoulder from a victim fighting back
He didn't move a muscle as he watched you do your magic
You sighed at him, and he made a grunting sound to insinuate his concern
"I just don't like seeing the people I love hurt like this"
You hadn't realized what you said until you felt his body stiffen
You suddenly froze as well
After a moment of awkward silence, you finally raised your gaze
When you managed to meet his eyes, he quickly pulled you into him, his heart racing against your ear
You laughed a bit at this and hugged him back, feeling a weight lift off of your shoulders
Bubba Sawyer
You had been out in the Texas heat with Bubba trying to help clean up after the family's latest... endeavor
However, the 100 degree weather was certainly doing a number on you
You took a seat on the porch steps and closed your eyes, trying to build up enough energy to carry on
After a few minutes, you felt a sudden jolt of cold on the back of your neck, making you jump
When you looked up, you saw Bubba kneeling in front of you
You realized that he had placed an ice pack on your back
"Thank you," you spoke quietly
He continued to stare at you with concern in his eyes
"I'm okay," you reassured. "I promise."
You reached out your pinky to him in hopes of solidifying this promise
However, he grabbed your hand and placed it on top of his chest, making you feel his heartbeat
You looked up at him and saw slightly teary eyes behind his mask
You felt your heart flutter
"I love you too," you responded softly
Brahms Heelshire
Brahms was currently being a bit bratty with you before bed time
He wasn't one to deny your kisses, but he was very determined to not go to bed tonight
"It's late, Brahms," you argued, leaning in to try and give him his goodnight kiss
But he just kept turning his head away, dodging all of your attempts
"I'm not even tired," he tried to fight back
You groaned. "Fine. Then you can just go to bed without your kiss."
You went to stand up but was immediately tugged back into the bed
"Stay," he said
You shook your head. "I'm exhausted, Brahms. I want to sleep."
After a few moments of consideration, he finally broke and tilted his head to you
You happily leaned in to kiss him, only to feel his lips forcefully push against yours
This kiss was much more heated than expected
"What was that for?" you asked
He tucked himself further into the covers, smiling intently
"I love you. Goodnight!" he said, pulling you into him
You just laid there dumbfounded, not even sure Brahms knew what he had just said
"I love you too..." you finally responded moments later
Norman Bates
You were currently crying and frantically pacing around
The latest motel customer was dead and bleeding out into the floor in front of you
Norman had been standing on top of him, a dirty knife gripped tightly in his hand
Norman was also frantic right now, trying to explain himself
"He was harassing you, (Y/N)! I couldn't let him treat you like that."
It was true that he had been making inappropriate remarks towards you, making you feel uncomfortable the whole time he had been staying here
But you didn't think murder should have been the first solution
Hell, you didn't even know Norman was capable of something like this
It made you question everything
"You just killed someone, Norman! Jesus, is he even the first one? Is this what you were going to do with me once you didn't need my help anymore?!"
Norman's face dropped at this, and he let the knife fall to the ground
"What?! No! (Y/N), I love you. P-please..."
You could feel your heart drop at this
God, was he really just trying to protect you? Something about those eyes made you want to believe him
You slowly began to walk over, his sad eyes watching you
When you finally got in front of him, you pulled him into a strong embrace
"I-I think I love you too, Norman."
Billy Loomis
It was just another typical house party you managed to drag Billy to
He didn't mind these types of gatherings usually, but lately, he only really went to them if he planned to kill everyone there
So actually going as himself felt a little odd
But he'd do it for you
And now here you were, tipsy and dancing all over him
He liked your attention for sure, but he hadn't drank nearly as much as you since he was your ride home
"C'mon, Billy!" you tried convincing him. "Dance with me!"
He just let out a light chuckle at this
"I'm not really in the dancing mood, babe," he responded
You pouted at him cutely. "Pleeeease? Don't you love me?"
He felt himself freeze up at this
You two hadn't used that L word yet
But he quickly shook this off
He smiled. "Of course I love you."
It was your turn to freeze up. You didn't realize what you said until he repeated it back. You suddenly felt 100% sober
"Really?" you asked
He rolled his eyes. "Damn right."
You smiled brightly
Stu Macher
Stu ran out of the now silent house with adrenaline pumping through his veins
When he finally saw you waiting for him, his face broke out into a wide grin
"How did it go?!" you asked urgently
He just let out an excited laugh
"Babe, it was perfect! I got 'em all in just 10 minutes!"
You giggled happily with him as he wrapped you in his arms, swinging you around with him
"Did I turn off the lights at the right time?"
He nodded urgently. "It was absolutely perfect! God, I love you."
He squeezed you into him tighter, but all you could think of was what he just said
When he realized you weren't holding him back, he pulled away and looked at you concerned
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he asked
You shook your head. "Stu. You just said you loved me."
He looked even more confused. "Yeah, cuz I do...?"
Stu didn't understand why this was such a surprise
So after a few moments, the shock finally wore off
"I love you too," you responded
His smile only grew even more. "Good!"
Eric Draven
"Jesus," you muttered to yourself
Eric simply laughed at this
"It's not funny. You could have gotten yourself killed!"
He raised his brow at this
You groaned. "I know, I know. You can't die, but this must not have felt very good!"
He smirked. "Been through worse."
"Yeah, and if you do this again, I'll find a way to kill you for the second time."
He just watched you with a content smile
He couldn't help but feel warm at your constant doting
He hated to make you worry every night, but coming home to see that relieved look on your face made everything worth it
You were the only thing that actually made him feel alive nowadays
"I love you, you know?" you finally sighed
He could feel his eyes burn at this
It had been so long since he felt loved by a person, and here you were admitting it to him
You looked up at him after a moment of silence
"Are you gonna say something, or do I just look stupid now-"
"I love you, (Y/N)."
You smiled. "Good. Just another reason for you to be careful coming home to me."
#michael myers headcanons#michael myers x reader#michael myers#halloween#halloween movie#jason voorhees headcanons#jason voorhees x reader#jason voorhees#friday the 13th#friday the thirteenth#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#texas chainsaw massacre#the texas chainsaw massacre#brahms heelshire x reader#brahms heelshire#brahms heelshire headcanon#the boy 2016#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis headcanon#billy loomis#stu macher x reader#stu macher#stu macher headcanons#scream movie#scream#scream franchise#eric draven x reader#eric draven#the crow 1994
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
warning: usage of the words "good girl", "princess", unprotected sex, semi public sex, slight exhibitionism, jealous!hyunjin
hyunjin had enough of this damn cocktail party.
he knew it was the professional thing to do: show up, be cordial and be supportive of his beautiful girlfriend who had worked her ass off to be in the position she was in today.
he was proud of you, to say the least.
watching you sip an alcoholic beverage, with a smile on your face as you chatted away with a person standing in front you.
things were going fine, however the night turned sour when a guy you worked with could not make it any more obvious that he was hitting on you.
hyunjin didn't like that one bit.
especially not when he was standing right next to you, glaring at the dumbass in hopes he would get the hint and get lost.
was he also this brazen when hyunjin wasn't around?
did he always pester you or was the liquid courage making him ballsy?
hyunjin would be damned if he thought he was going to let this slip.
absolutely not.
and the guy was quick to notice that your drink was almost up, offering to get you another one from the bar.
you being the sweet coworker you were, felt it was rude to deny him so you gave him your drink order and he quickly made a beeline to the bartender.
hyunjin wanted to laugh in his face.
did he ever in a million years think he had a shot with you?
of course not!
you were hyunjin's and hyunjin was yours, end of story. hyunjin would never let you go without a fight, which he was convinced he'd prevail from.
god, he was absolutely sick of this fool. who did he even think he was? being so painfully bold in front of him, had he no shame?
frustration and rage was coursing through hyunjin's veins. he swore he wasn't one to get jealous and act out but this guy was going to be an exception.
you hadn't even being paying much attention, staring around at people mingling with your empty glass in hand when you felt hyunjin grab your arm and tug you through the crowd of people.
"hyune? where are we going?" you asked, following him without hesitation because maybe it was important.
sometimes he had moments where he needed to step out for some air if the room became too stuffy so you figured it was one of those instances.
but he didn't answer you, and he didn't step outside either.
instead he pulled you into the restroom, not even caring to lock the door behind him, pressing you into the sink and kissing you deeply as he took the glass from your fingers and set it down.
"h-hyune.. w-wait baby.. w-what's wrong?" you said between kisses, but you already had a feeling of what was boiling inside of him.
he shushed you as he kissed down your neck, squeezing your sides tightly, smiling to himself slightly because he knew that idiot could only dream of having you like this, and a dream could not do the real thing any justice to be quite honest.
"b-baby what if someone-"
at the moment, he didn't give much of a shit if someone heard, if someone wondered where you had run off to.
he flipped you over, you facing yourself in front of the mirror. you both already looked a little disheveled and it made you worry about stepping out there again later looking like a mess.
hyunjin fumbled with his pants, pulling his cock out over his slacks just enough. he bunched your dress up to your waist and moved your panties to the side, watching as a string of your arousal connected your cunt to the fabric.
"god, princess.. you're so wet for me.. you like being naughty huh?" he kissed the shell of your ear, nibbling on your lobe gently.
"we don't have much time to waste kay? look at me.. eyes on me." he instructed, nimble fingers rubbing you a bit while he stroked his cock, lining it up with your entrance
"h-hyune baby-" he quickly covered your mouth as he pressed his cockhead inside of you. you gripping the sink in hopes of somehow grounding yourself but you already felt so weak.
"shh shh.. just take it baby.. i know you can be good and take it.. eyes on me remember?"
you nodded, your eyes meeting his through the mirror, his gaze lustful as he pressed another inch inside of you.
fuck, you already felt so full of him, clenching around his length because the situation was turning you on more than you'd like to admit.
once he bottomed out, you arched your back, his hand still on your mouth to stifle your moans as he began to pound into you. his other hand came up to grab a fistful of your hair, gripping it tightly as he held your head back for him.
he wanted to make sure you saw him ruining you, that he was the one fucking you good. that piece of shit had nothing on him, he was the one who made your knees buckle, that could pull the prettiest moans from you, that got to kiss and squeeze every inch of your body.
"i'm gonna fuck you good but you have to promise to keep my cum tonight okay?" he grunted, you could only nod against his hand, trying so hard to keep your eyes open and not roll them to the back of your head.
"good girl.. that's right baby.." he breathed out.
you both could feel your orgasms approaching, hyunjin trying his best to hold you up while also trying to keep his own composure.
the chatter outside was thankfully suppressing the noise coming from you two but it wasn't very helpful in warning you when someone was nearby.
the door handle twisting and opening to reveal the guy who had been flirting with you. drink in his hand as his jaw dropped at the sight in front of him. seems he had been looking all over the place for you to continue his pathetic scheme and to hand you the liquor he oh so kindly had gotten you.
"close the door, can't you see we're fucking busy?" hyunjin growled out at him, not relenting his pace. you furrowing your eyebrows as you felt yourself start to cream around hyunjin's cock. it was too fucking much, you couldn't hold yourself back anymore.
he quickly closed the door and ran off.
hyunjin smirked, feeling his ego swell. stilling his hips to let his cum shoot deep inside you, not a drop would go to waste.
"remember.. you're keeping it all in okay? gonna fuck it deeper when we get home."
please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito
#just a silly thought i had...#binsito#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz hard thoughts#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x reader smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
War & crack II
—Task Force 141 x young!reader
—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic
—Warnings: none
Part One / Halloween special
yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣
─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.
─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.
─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.
─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.
─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.
─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).
─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.
─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.
─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.
─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.
─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.
─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.
─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.
─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...
─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.
─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.
— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.
─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.
─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.
─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.
─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.
─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.
─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.
─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.
─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.
─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).
— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.
— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.
— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.
— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.
— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.
— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.
— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.
— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.
— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.
— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.
— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.
— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?
#cod#cod headcanons#reader insert#call of duty#cod x reader#cod x y/n#cod x gen z#gen z#gen z reader#headcanons#sfw#platonic reader#cod x platonic reader#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#platonic tf 141#tf 141 x platonic reader#tf 141 x gen z#young reader#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
More Headcanons for the Gale Babes: Pining Edition
Tagging At Their Request: @eclecticqueennerd @jeneralmischief @thewizardhole
Tagging Because I Thought You May Want To Know I posted It: @lewdisescariot @ollypopwrites @rissi-chan @foreskinfinder87
Here are some headcanons about Gale behind the scenes as he pines for you/Tav (Goodnatured, Gender Neutral) Bear with some things that are just regular ole canon for a moment and then I will get into the headcanony stuff near the middle.
Upon Your First Meeting
"I'm Usually better at this."
"At Introductions?"
"Hah...At magic."
Safe to say that he was well aware of just HOW much trouble he was in very shortly after beginning to travel with you.
The words "Do NOT do this to yourself, you ridiculous, touch-starved man," may or may not have been said to the mirror...or to a mirror double of himself.
But godsdamnit, you just had to continue being...kind and courageous and well spoken and your eyes...and your lips and Focus--FOCUS GALE DEKARIOS
And hells, what a world it would be if he could stop putting his foot so squarely into his mouth.
"Gods, Gale. Really did a number with that thing you said, didn't you? They probably thing you're pompous--which you are--perhaps rightfully so, you are a very gifted wizard..."
He uh...talks to himself a lot. Old habit from the tower, you see. You only catch him doing it a couple of times though, and rarely hear what he said.
"Oh, just thinking out loud, you know!"
Once He's Gotten To Know You A Bit
"Go on, Gale. You're among Friends."
"I may just be about to remedy that."
It's hard to pin point the exact moment he fell in love with you. But the realization was nothing short of devastating for him.
As a younger man, he may have been brought to tears reading a tragedy like his. Abandoned by a former lover, forsaken in a plight brought on by wishing to do her a grand gesture, falling for a simpler love...one he may never have because of the orb threatening to level a city in his chest.
Sometimes at night, he watches you asleep in your bedroll, wondering if he had met you as a young man...if he'd perchance seen you on the streets of Waterdeep or sitting at the bar in The Yawning Portal perhaps he'd never wound up in this position in the first place.
Perhaps he would have simply been chosen by Mystra, and not have fallen in love with her.
It feels wrong...even to think it. He wonders if Mystra can sense the betrayal in those thoughts--in the wish that he'd never fallen in love with her.
But it's hard not to feel that way when he has to spend every waking moment next to you.
And when he watches everyone else in camp seemingly falling over themselves to get to you as well.
He makes his peace with the fact that there is simply no way that he can compete with the pale elf who is constantly making eyes at you...calling you darling.
He remembers meeting people like that in school. He remembers burying himself in his studies to distract himself from the fact that he'd never felt particularly charming or even efficacious in matters of the heart.
Of course that all changed when Mystra chose him. Before he'd wooed her, he'd managed to have a few dalliances as a teen, even going into his early adulthood.
But you're the first he's ever wanted to have something with since Mystra had forsaken him.
He still carries the charm he'd cultivated. It's hard not to get at least a little full of yourself when the goddess of magic herself chooses you. Harder still to drop the habit after he'd committed to it, even while sequestered to his tower.
He'd been deep in thought on these matters when you checked in on him one night.
"Nothing to worry about. Just a wizard stewing on matters of the arcane and curious, I assure you."
When he finally has to reveal the truth of his affliction to you and the others in the party, he's devastated all over again. He's ready to once again be banished for his crimes, to be newly punished for his folly, however well intentioned he was in acquiring it.
But...you simply don't... It seems you never do what he expects because you hardly bat an eye. Even when Astarion tells you to kick him to the proverbial curb, you let him stay.
It's that night he conjures the image of Mystra in his hand, turning it this way and that to see if it still hurts to look upon her as it used to.
When you wander over to inquire about her visage, he is relieved to find it doesn't bother him to speak of her, and daunted by the ache in his chest that you seem to inspire in him.
He keeps trying to find a way to tell you how he feels, but he simply can't form the words without choking on them.
Until that night with the teiflings...and well...let's just be honest, the generously flowing alcohol.
He just wants to share a moment with you--a foolish idea to help you experience the weave using him as a conduit. A bit cheeky he realizes--knowing perhaps better than you might the sort of sensual, intimate nature that being connected through the weave can be. But he can't help it, it is the only relief he can find for this torturous pining. To be allowed to be of one mind with you for just a fleeting second is too tempting to refuse.
When You Imagine Sharing A Kiss With Him
"I'm sorry...I wasn't expecting...but it is a pleasant image to be sure. Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."
How can he convince himself that he won't immediately ruin this? Does he even remember how to kiss? God's it's been so long.
He lies in his tent, banging the heel of his hand against his forehead.
"You should have just kissed them, you damned fool. How long have you wanted this? And apparently they want it, too. And you were linked with the weave! What could have been more perfect? Why didn't you just kiss them, you blithering idiot."
When he doesn't kiss you for a while, you worry you may have made him uncomfortable with the thought. Really, he simply can't find the perfect time between all of the bloodshed and bandages.
He gets sloppy in battle, too worried that someone will take you way before he has a chance to make good on that dream you shared with him. Not the best course of action for a man who can literally implode in the event that he dies.
And then he had to go and say that stupid thing about danger and...other forms of stimulation.
"Perhaps," he tells himself one night. "Perhaps, Gale of Waterdeep, you will actually make a gesture more than a silly joke and a stammering admission of liking to kiss. Your actions so far have not hinted that you will, but perhaps there is hope for you yet."
In the end it's a night where you're near out of provisions that gives him the opportunity to close this blasted distance betwixt you.
He's having a melt down of sorts. About the lack of decent food in camp. How is he to feed all of you with nothing but a few half-eaten apples and a fish head?
You suggest a walk, not far from camp. You're sure you can scrounge up some berries, or some tubers--maybe even a squirrel or a rabbit. In truth, you're not sure you'll find anything, but you can sense that Gale needs time away. Needs privacy. Needs space to simply feel things without an audience.
After walking in silence for a while you ask him if he's alright.
"No. No I am categorically not alright. Not at all. I am filthy. I am covered in goblin blood. The orb refuses to be sated. I cannot find a way to properly feed you so that you'll have the strength to fight another day. And on top of it all--rounding out the depths of my misery--you so bravely showed me the intimacy you wanted to share, yet I cannot for the life of me figure out how to adequately stage that moment so that it is worthy of the splendor that you are."
It's hard not to be touched by his admission, but you don't want him to be miserable. So you make it easy for him. You simply stride up to him and plant a kiss on his lips.
"Is that better?" you ask him. "Now you needn't fret about the last thing."
His simply...gawks at you. Stares in utter befuddlement, his mouth slightly agape. For a moment, you're certain you've broken the poor wizard. You almost have the urge to wave your hand in front of his face to see if his soul has left his body. Then he smears his hand down his face and groans
"NO," he says. "No it is not better. That is not a proper first kiss worthy of how I feel about you. I can do much better than a first kiss like that."
You remind him that that was technically your first kiss with him. He is welcome to show you how it is properly done.
You expect the slow burn with him--expect him to have to ponder that for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, before he makes good on it.
But he has had enough of waiting. He drops his bag off to the side and unstraps his bow from his back in a quick flurry of movement. He reaches for you, gently grasping the soft curves of your face and pulling you toward him, claiming your mouth with his own.
It is a frantic, desperate thing, this kiss. Simultaneously overwhelming and buoyant. You find yourself lifting up onto your toes and leaning against him as he tilts his head, seeking some opening to taste you, to feel you on his lips.
Your knees buckle, and his hands move from your face to catch you, crushing you against him as if he wishes to match every curve of you to every corresponding curve of his own body.
His lips are soft, though they are posessive. When you finally allow him across the threshold of your lips, he tastes like that fragment of weave you shared with him. He tastes of pure connection.
And then, just like that moment, it is over. You're left panting and weak as he holds you against his chest, his face flush, his brow gently curved with worry.
You blink dreamily up at him. "Oh." you say.
"'Oh?'" he asks incredulously. "Please tell me you have more to say than 'Oh.' Or at least specify the quality of that 'Oh.' Hells, if I'm to get any sleep at all--"
You simply lift your fingers to his lips, pressing the tips to quiet him. "Consider me properly schooled in how it's meant to be done," you say. "You're an excellent teacher."
He heaves a sigh. "Oh," he says. "I know."
I hope you enjoyed this! I'm sorry if it's not as satisfying since it's a lot of like...subtext for canon things. I have more Ideas but this is already quite long. Do let me know if you would still like to see more or if you have anything you'd like to see or expand on with an actual small fic. I have been having so much fun with these.
#writing community#writers on tumblr#writing#authors#writeblr#my writing#bg3#bg3 headcanons#bg3 gale#bg3 gale fanfic#bg3 gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#gale x tav#gale headcanons
723 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Never Missed You 2/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)
Word count: 7.3 k
Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)
Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.
A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Smutty smut ahead in this chapter. Brace yourselves for impact.
Part 1
You have to admit that you look dashing tonight.
And not because you want to turn people's heads at the party… But because you want him to look at you like you're the most forbidden snack he will never have.
It's selfish and petty, and you're just seeking attention. But at least you have the balls to admit it: you want Simon Riley to drool after you. You want this man on his knees. And nothing else has worked except that bra.
So you turn to the world's oldest weapon. A woman's weapon. Seduction.
"I'd suggest you keep a low profile until we're done."
He looks at you through the mirror while you finish your hair. Uses the word we instead of I. It makes your heart ache… And you take even that lecturing comment as a compliment. So he does think you look nice, or at least nice enough to stand out. You read into every look, every little tone of voice he gives you.
"I thought we were supposed to lure him in," you say while you neaten your necklace. Of course you look nice. You have done everything you can to look ravishing tonight: a deep-cut, thigh-revealing dress, cat eye makeup, red lipstick...
"Yeah but not like this."
"I'm not locking myself inside the house because of this," you announce pointedly. "I'm not afraid to live my life."
You turn and look him up and down, give him a little tilt of the head. "Don't you have anything else to wear?"
He doesn't shrink, doesn't bat an eyelash. Just looks down on you from that ivory tower of masculine prowess and makes you feel like a fool for being so dolled up.
"There's a difference between courage and foolhardiness," he states, not falling for your attempts to make him feel small in your world. You suspect there is so much more to this man, but you don't care to know about the circumstances he grew up in, the situations that gave him that broken nose and lip. You don't want to know about his broken soul.
Or perhaps you do...
"I suppose you know everything about that," you say while looking straight at the uneven scar on his jugular.
"I do."
"Tragic past?"
"You could say that."
You feel even more silly, standing before him in all your glory, pearls in your ears and silver around your neck. You pay this man for his services; he's supposed to protect you. But something in his eyes told you from the start that there lies an abyss inside this man. And you didn't pay for that: a peek inside his heart. But a door is open a creak now, and what's inside is pure darkness.
"Well, whatever it is, I'm sorry you had to deal with that."
Your cultured attempt to dance around his chasm makes those brown pools melt. Finally, he melts. But not to compassion, or mercy, or anything that would make you believe that you two understand each other.
He looks at you like you're a stranger from another planet. He's intrigued but doesn't quite understand how a creature like yourself has come to be. You're not only a child in his eyes but a coward as well for not daring to open that door to hell.
"What do you think," you hurry to change the subject. "Will I do tonight?"
He’s always so hyper-vigilant, his stare fixed on everything else but you. It feels childish, to be jealous of his attention when all he’s trying to do is protect you.
But now… Now that alert darkness bores straight into you.
"You look good in everything, ma'am."
A breeze of arctic wind goes through your scalp, and a fainting warmth settles in your belly.
You tiptoed your way to the fridge yesterday morning, before official breakfast, in your knickers and an old band merch from your youth - the one you still slept in sometimes because it was far more comfier than your silk pajamas. He walked in fully dressed and mighty while you were sneaking back upstairs with a glass of apple juice. The humiliation was overwhelming, especially when he dared to look you up and down in your state of underdress.
"Goodness… Sorry."
It should’ve been he who was supposed to say those words. But you felt like an intruder in your own house. It was a dangerous slip: to look so homely, with no brush stroke gone through your hair, with no toner on your skin. With no makeup and standing there before him in all your…you.
"No harm done."
He had never looked at you like that, and you swore right then and there that you would only descend those stairs with your full battledress from now on.
"Even in an old t-shirt…?" You ask with a tight voice. Desperate. Longing…
"Especially then."
Simon Riley strips you from your weapons and charades in a second. Your tight, seductive smile slowly falls off your face, and from behind it, a fragile, naked hope arises to gape at him. He clears his throat as if he just offered you an entire bowl full of ice cream when he was supposed to give you only a little scoop.
"I'm gonna go take a shower," he says, calm and adamant, like a statue you would go to see at a gallery.
"I'm afraid we should be going already."
"Takes 5 minutes."
You purse your lips, and he's on his way to the bathroom before you can even give him your nod. The guy is used to military showers, then, and perhaps it's for the better that he puts on at least some effort.
When he comes out, you're sitting in the hallway, and he's only wearing a towel. It's the one you gave him when he arrived, the softest you could find from your closets. You remember how the first odd thought you had upon seeing this man is that he probably isn't used to softness.
And now you see why.
You can see the prominent veins and the sketchy forearm ink, his muscles are magnificent to the point of unholy, he has a delicious, thin layer of fat on top of his belly, and the eyelashes aren't the only breath of hair that's pale on this man… But he looks like he has gone through an inferno.
His back is full of scars, and half of his shoulder looks like it has been dipped into a deep fryer. You catch a hollow dent between his ribs, and there's more, but he walks to his room before you see the rest of it.
The taxi drive to the party is filled with silence as you try to digest what you just saw. You want to call your lawyer and demand him to tell you where the hell did he find this man and who Simon Riley truly is. Who exactly does he work for when he's not taking bodyguard jobs?
But the first thing you do when you arrive at the large party held in a small palace is to go to the punch bowl and down a glassful in one go.
He's on your heels the whole night, eyes everyone with a hawk stare, and does his job perfectly. He grabs your arm occasionally and whispers in your ear if someone seems suspicious. After one and a half hours, he comes to you and practically demands that you two leave. Normally, you would start an argument, but not tonight.
You kind of want to go back home, too. The people at the party seem tedious, and his scars have reminded you that even if you live in a world where violence is not the norm, it doesn't mean that other worlds don't exist. Otherworlds - where people get shot, stabbed, and blown apart. Whipped and cut and deep-fried. You're in danger, and it took his suffering to see that.
You have been so stupid that you just about wish someone would slap you.
Simon has been so patient with you that you nearly apologize on the ride back home. You want to beg his forgiveness and confess you have been a spoiled little idiot.
But again, that's not an easy thing to do. You turn to look at your forbearing bodyguard, ever silent in the taxi, and turn your voice to silk.
"You really should smile more," you suggest. He doesn't answer, just looks out your window as if there were perils there too. You suddenly realize anyone could shoot through the glass or the door at any given time. With a proper caliber, a bullet could pierce that window and coat his black shirt with the insides of your skull.
No. No. I'm not ducking my head.
There's no one there.
"Have you ever tried?"
You turn to humor and flirt to drive those intrusive thoughts from your head. He doesn't yet know that you're afraid, that you have been afraid this whole time. You should have bought that armored car.
"Am I your most annoying client ever…?" There's a smile on your lips, a little pardon for being so infuriating. His eyes drop there, then lift back up to your eyes with surprising seriousness.
"You're my first client ever."
Well… This was news.
"Oh. Why did you accept this job?"
His stare sails away from you and back to the London night. You stifle the urge to grab his hand, a fistful of his shirt, to draw his attention back to you. Every time he's around, you feel safe; every time he looks at you, everything else ceases to exist.
You want him so badly you could cry.
"They don't teach you manners at the SAS…?"
"No. They teach us how to kill."
You scoff and turn to look through the window, too.
"Brute."
"You're entitled to your opinion, ma'am."
When you reach your house, he uses that term again. You're 110 % sure he's only trying to annoy you.
"Good night, ma'am."
"Stop it," you nearly slam your purse on the table in the hallway.
"What?"
"The ma'am thing…!"
You sound like a wife who's looking for an argument after putting on a charade all evening. When the door to your home closes, volcanoes erupt, and bombs drop, your husband-like bodyguard gets the blunt of your fear and frustration.
But how do you argue with someone who never argues back? He's calm like the Pacific during a stormless season, always, always gets calmer when you're going berserk. He walks to the armchair in your living room like he owns the whole goddamn place and sits down with a sigh.
And there is a smile playing on his lips.
"What should I call you then?"
You look at him, dumbstruck, on that chair, spreading his legs like there's no tomorrow, arms comfortably on the armrests, and mouth drawn into a genuine, peaceful, thoroughly naughty smile.
"Oh, now you're smiling," you huff. The unbelievable audacity of this man… "Some ideas on what to call me popped into your head?"
"Verily."
"Go on then."
"Nah. You should go to sleep."
"I'm not going until you tell me."
You cross your arms over your chest to underline that ruling. His smile only widens. He looks wickedly delicious in that seat with his legs spread, and the chair doesn't swallow him like it swallows you. Actually, his shoulders are wider than the back panel of this enormous chair.
"Well," he begins, "’princess' came up first."
You try to catch what he just said through the stupor of wanting to climb on that wide lap.
"Truly? How original."
"Or spoiled brat."
You stop breathing for a second, then reel straight toward a spiral of–
"How dare you?"
You notice his eyes dropping to your heaving breasts again. This man is so different from a dinner-offering, cunning man in a suit. He has no pretenses whatsoever. He looks at you with that little smile, eyes burning, legs drifting apart even more, probably his cock stirring from how you are trying to chastise him. If you had pearls around your neck, you would clutch them. Or throw them at him.
"You son of a–"
"Pretty."
His next choice renders you speechless; it cuts through your insult before it even flees your mouth. You gape at him, jaw open, breathing and cheeks burning, pussy throbbing - soaked so thoroughly now that you feel a tiny droplet cascade down your thigh.
"Yeah. That's better," the man says as if he's also blessed with a Superman stare, knowing you're seconds away from drenched. "Better than brat or princess, anyway."
The darkness conceals most of him as he settles inside that massive chair he dwarfs. You are falling, or at least that's what it feels like. A tumble, a slip inside his Styx. But there's no bottom, and the water is warm ink, despite the fact that he's so blanched.
"Pretty…?" You whisper into that water, breathe onto the surface of his depths. The darkness answers immediately.
"Very."
Your swallow is a wet, nervous roll inside your throat when you sink into that river of lust and smoke.
You take your jewels off first, because you know he doesn't care for them. Money's not his chief interest, even if he's being paid. And fat, at that. But he's not here for riches, he’s not here for the jewels – or that's what you desperately wish.
The necklace and pearls are gone soon, tucked away on the table with your trembling digits, and he's sitting there like a statue.
You have no trouble with this dress: the zipper seems to cascade down on its own as you reach behind your back. He's motionless as you slip out of the straps that keep the dark velvet up. You feel like you're the Styx: but the darkness of the river pools at your feet as you let go of the gown, let go of everything and continue your freefall.
He doesn't move, doesn't give evidence that he's even breathing; he just sits there like a long-forgotten king.
The panic snares you with a drool-wet throat: you salivate not because of him but because of your nerves.
Are you… harassing him?
Does he want this…?
At least he thinks you're pretty – and you could laugh out loud; your thoughts are vain and petty, even when you're baring yourself before him in more ways than just one. Your breaths are audible distress inside that darkness, and he's still: everything's still.
But he moves when you reach for your bra.
It's just a hand that soars through the darkness, an involuntary reach for support and gathering of composure as his fingers find his jaw. They swipe across imagined stubble before he leans his head on that hand, just an ounce's worth of weight placed on his thumb and pointer as if he's simply in his thoughts. But the hawk stare is fixed on the lace covering your breasts as it falls on the floor too.
You hear his breaths now. Quicker on the inhale, heavy on the exhale. Your thumbs slide under the hem of the last piece of your veil, something you got from the store when you were feeling down. Now the underwear makes you feel better than ever - who would’ve guessed it's the moment you slither it off? Slowly, too: you’re being a tease, hip bones giving a two-second dance for him as he continues to watch you strip before him like the queen of the night.
You breathe in sync now, and your nipples perk up – he hasn't even touched you yet and you're more aroused than ever with a man.
Not a word spoken, and you fear you’re being delusional – if you've just imagined the heat between you two, but then those legs flare a hair's breadth more. His voice is the softest whip as it crackles through the void.
"Yeah... You're pretty. Now what?"
You breathe in gusts now. It's exhilaration, damnation.
"Jesus Christ, Simon."
The chair gives a creak as he rises, like an ancient shadow. Intimidating – intense, always, always, and you've been trying to coat him with soft towels and feed him toast. You wonder if he prefers black tea simply because it tastes more bitter than coffee rounded with milk.
Does he want this? Silly softness and toast and–
You get all your answers as he bends just enough to match your height, just enough to sweep you off your feet. Your hands go around his neck on instinct as he lifts you up from your rich, opulent Styx and into his sea.
You're quiet all the way upstairs – he can't fuck you downstairs, then, has to intrude on your luxury and privacy. You don't mind, especially when the steps give a desperate wail under your combined weight. He lets it sing its music to the night: your ruining already makes so much noise.
He reaches for his gun right after he’s placed you on the mattress. The sound of it is heavy when he sets it on the nightstand that has only seen glasses of water and apple juice and perhaps a few books.
He undresses with soldierly sharpness, no seduction there. But he doesn't have to seduce you: his stare and heavy-cold demeanor have already done that.
He's so, so different from the others… Looks at you on the bed like you're both a piece of tender sirloin and something akin to garbage. That's an accurate depiction of a princess, perhaps. You know wasps gather around both honey and bloodied meat.
He looks at you like that because you know nothing. And he's not here to ruin you… he's here to insert himself inside you like you're a foe that needs to be infiltrated, plundered and burned until you understand.
He's big. Daunting. A brute while you’re the princess, could be the sleeping beauty, the way you stay immobile and try to take in this man's sheer power. You saw him half naked already when he came from the shower, but it's nothing compared to seeing all that taut, scarred flesh up close, soon about to fall upon you like a broken mountain.
And what's between his legs is wholly proportional to the rest of him. That thing is a menace, and it's not even fully erect - hanging thick between thick thighs, foreskin revealing a fat, sloping tip, and he's veined all over…
Finally, your mouth goes dry.
His gaze sweeps your beauty, and that cock gives a throb – a good, hard pull that stretches out into the open air, and your eyes go wide. Then he prowls, like the king of the jungle, moving with a fluidity that must be scary to those who meet their end by this big brute’s violence.
You are able to take in air only when his hand falls next to your head. The other claims you by the middle as if to soothe you - but the truth is you're caged in like a tiny, quivering animal.
The hand is heavy as it slopes across your stomach and scales your mound. It doesn't cup or probe, only rests there over your most sacred place, like an enemy surrounding a city. Your thighs part slowly, hoping he would just sweep right in.
"This wasn't in the deal," he rasps as he looks down at you: heavy iron judging a diamond.
"Oh shut up," you breathe, thoroughly thrilled and shy. If you weren't lying down, his intensity would buckle your knees.
"Nor do I take orders from you, ma'am."
"I'm not- Don't call me a-"
His eyes spark as the hand dips down like a deep diver into the blue. You gasp a stunned whiff when he's met with a mortifying amount of slickness. Your arousal sings a pretty song as he draws a finger over your slit, the moist sounds followed by another stuttering sigh.
"Look at you all wet," he remarks, and you grit your teeth.
“Shut…up…”
"You know why I accepted this job?"
He wrecks you with one thick finger, rough skin lathering you with your own juice like he's trying to make a point here. And he is making a point: it comes across perfectly. The princess is a filthy mess for brutes…
And of course he was given a file on you too. With more than just one photo.
"Yeah," he rasps when you only look back at him with your felled deer helplessness. You could swear that he just heard your thoughts. "I think you know."
"You're–ah– a brute," you whisper, eyes shining. Your thighs part even more, feel yourself leaking over his fingers that stroke you agonizingly slow. You swallow with hunger, the need pangs on your cheeks. Your whole body is throbbing for him.
“Sticks and stones, love.”
He's so infuriating that you could slap him. Claw him, rip him apart. But you nearly laugh instead… It's far better an option to let him claw and rip you apart. He's tearing you apart right now, with those eyes and his hand, exploring you like you're the first course and he's here for the whole dinner. How can he be so calm?
"Could you…" You start, then realize you've never begged for this man.
"Hm? Talk to me," he commands. "Whatever ya want."
You whimper – from bliss or relief, you can't tell. The frantic need to serve is fully fleshed out in his tone. It surprises you. You thought he was here for his own pleasure.
You try to think through the bliss of his fingers. You've had all kinds of things... All you could ever want, most would say. But that's not entirely true. No man has ever promised to please you however you want.
"Could you go…"
"Go down on you?" He places a thumb, broad and hard, on your clit. Teases it with the slightest pressure and a circle. "Lick your cunt?"
Fuck…
He has no trouble saying it as it is, and you nod, still helpless.
"Sure. 'N after that I'll fuck you nice and good."
He's never, ever sounded like that before. Dark, and rich, the baritone reaching a level that speaks of hunger – no, need.
A brute, a pussy-drunk brute, the blood in your veins sing as he goes down. Nothing can prepare you for the way with which he manhandles his way between your thighs like they're only a petty distraction in the way. They're forced wide apart with a tight grip that speaks of urgency, but he takes his time to admire the sight bared before him. He’s drinking you in like ambrosia, towering above you while you’re being held open for him to just observe you like you’re a center-spread girl in a filthy magazine.
"You're fucking pretty down here, did ya know that?"
You don't even know what to say - his tone, his observation is base, and still, they're the most beautiful words anyone has ever said to you.
"No…?"
"Well now ya know."
He steals a final glance at you, and the fire in his eyes already makes your legs feel weak. He dives between your parted legs, right into your leaking, glistening folds, and you're suddenly glad that you've done all that yoga… Those shoulders are so broad they force your thighs even further apart as he makes himself home there between your legs.
A hot mouth presses against you like this man has been starving, even if you've fed him the best delicacies for days. An even, fat stroke is the first thing you feel before your toes curl and your head falls back.
"Goodness, Simon..." You try to keep yourself from stuttering as his mouth opens you like a flower. You should be quiet, for once, and let him do the job. He seems like an expert, even and especially there between your legs. "Do you-ah, always shag your clients?"
"Told you you're my first," he rasps a husky sigh on your folds. He could ruin you with that voice alone.... He gives you another sweep of his tongue, full and ample, and your fingers curl around the sheets, your hips buck; your ass drives up on instinct, trying to both escape his mouth and rub your pussy against those thin but eager lips.
"Don't worry," he tells your pussy with a warm chuckle. "This is free of charge."
You sigh, the first laugh of many up into the air. You're supposed to get angry, but you can't. You can't.
"Have… no words for you."
"Good. It's about time you stopped talking, love."
He grabs your hips to punctuate it that you should indeed shut up. Fingers sink into your flesh like you're a whole goddamn feast - no more fucking toast and teasing. His hands look so huge as they dig into your skin - so different from the hands of men who work in offices or wait for people to serve them. You upvoted those hands to be the best part of this man long ago.
And that bulk of muscle… Some of those men in suits might go to the gym, but they couldn't forge a body like his in a million years: that breathtaking mass built to work and endure harsh conditions. It's not a flex or a sculptured piece of art: it's simply survival - ancient and primal.
He's got darkness, and you got diamonds, but something tells you his depths are infinitely more valuable. You couldn't buy his intensity even if they sold it in the streets. The skull mask was self-made, everything in this man is self-made, and he's sampling what diamonds taste like, and you wonder… Does he think you're cheap, some fake piece of worthless junk? Does he laugh at how easy you are? That under your manners, you're only a spoiled brat and a promiscuous maneater…? Or that he couldn't care less, as long as he can push his cock inside you?
He gives you his best, that's for sure. A working man, with you as his assigned mission, and the feeling of being a spoiled little princess only increases. And how are you supposed to stay still if he's slow and attentive like that? You might be his first client, but you're not his first shag…
His lips seal tightly around your nub, suck it, lap it, sigh on it - he's already breathless from the need to make you moan and cum. A purpose-driven, ravenous man, and when he dips his tongue inside your cunt, your mind finally goes blessedly blank. Your legs shake and stretch, and you can’t prevent your hand from skimming down to grab his hair when he gives you deep, unhurried plunges with his tongue, huffing against you from the mad want to make you feel good.
You would never have guessed that Simon Riley would get such pleasure from licking a woman.
One hand disappears from around your thigh, and you guess it's one of his fingers that arrives, wide and thick, to tease your entrance. You can feel the smile on your folds as he slips it in, making you nearly jolt on the sheets. Your fingers instantly curl to tug that pale hair, to grab hold of something, and it makes him rumble inside you.
He doesn’t even wait for you to catch your breath as he adds another finger. Goes shallow at first, then pushes those fingers in to the knuckle. The feeling of being filled - and not being filled enough - is going to drive you crazy any second now.
"Simon…"
"Yeah?"
“I want you to… want you to…" you hear yourself choking on your beg as he works those fingers in and out of you while his lips are tight around your clit. He knows exactly what you're trying to ask.
And suddenly, it's he who breaks…
"Right. 'M gonna fuck you now, yeah?"
The spread is gone, and you're being moved - on your belly, and you briefly think whether it's because he can't bear to look into your eyes when he takes you. You don’t even have time to whimper from the loss of his fingers and mouth before heavy thighs force your legs aside. You’re being spread again, crudely, obscenely, like it’s just a procedure that has to be done. He’s both methodical and impatient, and you wonder - has he wanted to rail you like this ever since he saw you? Force you to lie down on your belly while he takes you from behind like a helpless damsel?
His hands come to your hips as if to make sure that you won’t run away from under him. As if you ever wanted to…
Something far fatter forces its way between your folds and straight onto your opening. He glides over your folds a few times, spreads your wetness all over his tip. Methodical still, but it makes you moan and swallow.
"Jesus…"
The lathering stops, the jutting cock settles right where your depths lie, and he chuckles. "Not quite, love."
Fuck…
Fuck this man's cheek and audacity. Fuck his size and pride, the way he knows what he's doing all the fucking time.
“Desperate for it?”
That stupidly fat cock just resides there, teasing your aching, leaking hole without going in. But it’s like he answers his own question because you feel the thick of him give a notch against your folds. So impatient. Thoroughly needy. It sends you further down the whirpool of desire, a searing white, fathomless deep..
“Yes..”
When he goes in with a leaden grunt, your muscles go into a spasm - he's too big, he hasn't prepared you right, and still, you force yourself to relax.
"Not what you expected?"
"It's… too much," you admit. He stops, realizing that for once in his life, he might've been an impatient man. Then he crawls forward, and you feel like you're about to be buried under a boulder as his weight bears down on you. Hands sink into the mattress on both sides of you, forcing you further up against him - you're floating, almost, to where you belong.
"Yeah? C'mon… You can take it."
You shudder. It's not even fully in yet?
He speaks too softly for it to be a demand, even when he's hovering on the brink of wanting to simply ram himself into your cunt. It's an encouragement. He’s cheering you on, like a coach. Or a leader... It’s leadership.
When you don't object, he starts to feed more of himself in. You try to remember how to breathe because you were wrong, you were so, so wrong - it was barely just the tip, and now you're stretched wide and tight. He's endless, and sinking in deeper, deeper….
And you want it so much - all of him- you want to grip him and never let go. One hand comes to sweep over your hip again, it caresses the swell of your ass, and you know he's looking down at how well you can take him after all.
"How are we doin'?"
Your lips are swollen, and your brows are creased tight. It's still not in…?
You’re fucked. Literally. But you can take him... You must.
You whimper when he slows down almost to a halt.
"Love. Tell me to stop 'n I'll stop."
"Just–gently," you whisper, brittle and shivering from joy.
"Don't worry. I got you."
Slowly, he arrives to the end of him and you. Hips flesh against yours, he’s out of breath before he even starts the thrusts. His length caresses places unfathomable in this position, and his weight is crushing you, even when he's supporting himself. It only feels like the safest place to be. Trapped there between your safe, soft bed and his safe, hard body.
The first thrust punches the air out of your lungs. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s not uncomfortable; it’s just too much to take. You’ve never been so filled.
"Fuck…" He swears, somewhere between the third or fourth thrust. "You're…"
"Good…?" You offer him when he doesn't continue. You know he was possibly going to say tight or something crude like that and corrected himself before it spilled. He merely grunts as an answer - a barbarian through and through, you decree. And then the brute speaks…
"The best."
God. You feel like a diamond after all, but you've never been under so much pressure, fearing you might break.
"You-too…" It's a sad little mewl. You sound like a child trying to make friends. Latching a hook on him, no matter how tiny it is. One shake, one ripple from the behemoth, and it will fall loose.
"Don't go lying with that pretty little mouth," he warns.
"I'm not lying."
"Yeah…? Keep squeezing me like that and perhaps I'll believe you."
It's a strange feeling, to meet your mistrust and jealousy on him. He has no pretenses, but he has secrets, camouflage, and flash grenades that blind you from the truth. But even he can't hide it all when he's moving inside you, so close, so terribly close.
You melt into a pool of heat and want, trying to meet him midway by offering your cunt, arching your spine, driving yourself up to give him better access. What was possibly meant as a desperate fuck turns into a sweet, weightless rocking, a rhythm of him and you. The hands on your hip start to gain weight as he holds you still for him, at times even pulls you against his cock.
"C'mon… wanna hear you," he huffs, then slides one hand to your butt and gives it a fond squeeze when you won't instantly make noise. "You're always givin' me that cheek and now you're silent?"
It's a warm question, a thick baritone that settles into your stomach, then shoots downwards and makes you clench.
"Wh-what do you want me to say?"
"Want you to sing."
Of course the man who never talks won't shut up in bed. But he's not bullying you into submission, nor is he being mean. If anything, he sounds like he's finally on his knees.
And you don't want to be mean either. Not anymore. But you just can't help yourself from having a little fun now that he's finally desperate and inside you.
"Make me," you whisper, delivering your cheek with a wicked little smile.
The response is immediate: he dares to land a flat palm on your ass. Like you're a broodmare, a sirloin steak for him to feast on. And it does the job: you almost shriek, or at least that's how it sounds like when a parched little whine pushes through your vocal chords with violence.
"That's better," he barks, pleased with his work.
"You're horrible," you gasp. You're glad he put you face down on a pillow: you can only hope he doesn't see how happy you are in the darkness of his night.
"Yeah? And you're sweet."
It's said with gravel wrapped in silk. It hits you and ignites, starts a flame inside you without permission.
You want him in ways you shouldn't. You want… more breakfasts, him carrying you up the stairs, taking in the way you tip-toe around the house in an old t-shirt. You want to serve him back rubs and tea and see who he is when he's not being paid. You don't want a lap dog or a guard dog, you simply want...
Simon.
"I'm– I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch," you whisper. He sinks back on top of you until his nose nuzzles the back of your ear. He leans on his elbows, trying not to break you into too many little pieces, but the feeling of being confined couldn't be more blissful.
"Cock's that good?" He drags the following thrust, sparking your nerves aflame as he hits your core. But it's not brutal; if it is, it's the sweetest wrecking you could ever have imagined.
"Don't make me take my words back," your lips pull to a smile and a silent, inner laugh.
"Wouldn't dream of it."
He's smiling too. Inwardly, perhaps, but you can hear the mirth. His weight on top of you while you're lying under him on your belly, unable to move, unable to do anything other than take the full brunt of his cock as it spreads you open, is pure heaven.
"Want you to cum when I'm inside you," he rasps in your ear, lips brushing the underside of your jaw. "Think you can do that, princess?"
Being told to cum on command is a bit ridiculous, you think. But not when it comes from that Cockney mouth. Not when he asks so nicely. Your cunt pulls, claws at him.
"... I'll show you princess," you sigh, but it's only a second away from laughter. His fingers dig into your skin, the flush flesh of your ass. It feels possessive… Fond.
"Yeah. Show me. C'mon."
The camouflage gets slightly torn off by a wind of a smile. You can hear it on his lips. Sex should be fun, one of your friends always says. You had never thought about it like that. Bed is not the place for laughter and humor, you had thought. But now you are both on the brink of bursting with it.
"You're a fucking pretty one…" He grunts: a breathless, silent joy. "Know you want this as much as I do. Ain't that right?"
"Yes."
"That's what I thought. So cum for me. Wanna hear the sounds you make."
You dance on the precipice already, and his voice causes your hand to shoot out to his. You drag that heated palm across your hips and your ribs, curl it next to you as if you were drawing a blanket over youself. It's a lover's caress, and his fingers slip between yours as he wraps around you like the protector that he is.
Your walls flutter, the thickness inside you makes you swell with every thrust. His hips are relentless as he buries himself into you with blunt force, his flesh clapping against yours and making your cunt clamp down on him. Sweet, sweet, sweet, your blood sings as your lids drift closed. The wave is coming, the final tsunami that will sweep you with it, and you will only succumb with joy.
"Don't-stop," you hear yourself beg through the heavy pants he's grunting on your neck.
"'M not gonna stop," he grunts into your ear, serious now.
"Fuh–Fuck me good and… hard," you're hiccuping through dry tears. It feels like there's a hammer and an anvil placed between your ribs. "I need you hard-"
"Shit…"
You barely grasp that he's about to lose his precious control before the midnight sea takes you under. The world fades into a tight know of blue and white and black, electric, ambient, something soft and hot at the same time. You're choking on your tears, moaning into the pillow like a poor, broken, tortured cat.
"That's fucking pretty," he swears on your neck as you cum. All humor is gone now, but he's not mocking you. He's just… emotional. The bulk of him rides you through the wave, but the rhythm of his hips becomes erratic.
"That's it, pretty… I'm gonna…Fuck," he huffs on your skin, a mist of want, and the cockhead rubs something profound inside you and makes you jolt in the middle of your molten euphoria. He grunts, swears, and does it again - bludgeons so deep it forces out a sob, just before he breaks too with a choked, wet swallow and a groan. A trembling colossus, you think, as he thickens and bursts inside you.
You're an aching mess when he comes, his thighs pressing over yours and forcing them far and wide as he buries himself into you to the hilt. He's a behemoth, spasming and crumbling right above you. The broad abs bunch against your back while his hips pin you down and spread you open. The cock pulses inside you, and you are barely able to think how it's a miracle that both his thick flesh and the pool of cum, all of it, just somehow fits there inside you…
A gentle brute until the end, he swallows again, thick and breathless, before giving a few tight rolls of his hips, emptying himself to the last drop. Slowly, you both still inside your bubble of warm, dark blue, something akin to a sea between a tropical storm and a calm sunrise, a drowsy reef shifting with the waves.
He's broken into a light sweat from the toil when he finally untangles your fingers. Your hips are kept in place with one hand as he slowly pulls out. You feel like you're left emptier than before, even if you feel the cum welling up inside, about to spill over.
Your bodyguard - your late-night fuck - collapses beside you, then reaches to pull you close again. Still back against his chest, still unable to look into your eyes when you're both vulnerable.
"I'm gonna get you a towel," his fingers tremble as he caresses your arm with the most delicate touch.
"No–don't, don't go," you whisper, then grab his hand and bring it back over you. You almost squeeze yourself with it. "Please?"
The tension behind your back decreases as he slowly falls back into bed.
"Alright love. I'll stay right here."
It's so peculiar how he reminds you of large water masses. A night sea under a pale moonlight. Not a stormy, roiling one, just a vast depth in an ever-swelling motion.
"I want… I need you to keep me safe," you whisper inside that swelling sea. You never want to come to the surface. You want to learn to breathe underwater. The heavy arm is draped over you; it covers nearly half of your chest as he sighs.
"Then let me do that."
His plea is not humble - nothing in this man is. He's not on one knee, swearing his allegiance and vowing to always protect you. He's not your Lancelot.
But in a way, his plea comes far too close to a beg. You feel a sting near your heart. It's electric, pure pain - the sweet kind, though, as you realize he doesn't only want to do his job… He wants to protect you. He has already tried his best to protect you while you run around like nothing is wrong.
"Simon… I'm sorry."
"I already forgave you," he hums on your skin, evidently glad that you two finally understand each other. It should send you laughing, the thought that you needed his scars and his…treatment to find common ground. And free of charge, no less.
"Do you still wish you were somewhere warmer…?"
He bows his head against the nape of your neck, and the gush of air from his nose is warm and jovial. "No."
It's hours till dawn, but you wish it would never come. The beauty of the night is only now unfolding before you. It feels far more safe than the violent dawn. You wonder how he would react if you moaned his name as you cum. If he would shudder. You wonder what the hell is wrong with you that you didn't already do it...
"Simon…?"
"Mm..?"
"What happens now?"
There's a pause, but he doesn't shift for more comfort. Still, the bullet vests and battle gears are back on; you just sense it.
"We're gonna get some sleep."
"No, I meant… What does this mean for us?"
"What do you think it means?"
Now he shifts, but only to draw you closer. You feel like jello as he pulls your scent deep into his lungs, then exhales the grace on your skin like you're the only tobacco he needs after a good round of sex.
"Don't worry about it, princess," he murmurs on your skin. So delicately that you could claim this man has never even seen the army, never barked and shouted and smoked his throat dry. "We'll talk in the morning."
You settle into his sea, an embrace full of gentle, heavy safety. It's the sweetest oblivion to slip in as you begin a dreamless sleep, soft and snug. But it's not merciful enough to make you forget that you two…
You never even kissed.
............................................
Taglist: @lialacleaf @cumikering @val-srz @glitterypirateduck @clear-your-mind-and-dream @milfs4lifee @regatoni1 @glossygreene @raf4el4 @xxmattyboixx @frozenballsack69 @gabygykss @chxrryp0p @sinnisterr @clairdelunelove @megumilover69 @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @ayavaiia @thedevillovesflowers @tiny-kasper
#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagine#ghost x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost smut#simon riley smut#cod fanfic#mw2 fanfic#simon riley fanfic#simon riley x female reader#ghost x female reader#bodyguard au#Bodyguard!Ghost
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
kissed off guard.
what better way to surprise your lover than a gentle kiss?
content: catching the brothers off guard with a quick little kiss. (all brothers × gen!reader).
fluff + a little bit crack. suggestive for asmo + lucifer, nothing explicit.
belphegor; right as he wakes up.
it's not uncommon for you to be the one who wakes the youngest in the mornings. belphegor has had centuries of practice of sleeping through his brothers yelling voices, so who else better to wake him up than you? you decide to test how quickly you can wake him up, and there's no faster technique than a kiss. waiting for his eyes to flutter open, you call belphegor's name softly, watching for the moment he pushes himself off the bed. still groggy, he blinks slowly at you, eyes remaining half closed. at least, until you press a light peck on his nose. the avatar of sloth shoots out of bed in record speed, one hand pressed to his mouth and the other clutching at his chest.
"what was that?!" belphegor shouts at you, backing into a wall.
you shrug nonchalantly, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you turn on your heel and head out the room. "just wanted to try something out."
═ ˎˊ˗
beelzebub; while sharing food.
beelzebub sharing his food with you is the highest honour. on the other hand, you sharing your food with beelzebub is a given. if you don't give him some, he'll most likely steal some (by accident, he swears) anyway. you've never minded, and most of the time, you'll order extra so that you can have enough for yourself even with the gluttony demon helping himself to your meal. this time, you made sure beelzebub didn't see you grab a popsicle for yourself, hoping to set him up for a little surprise. when the demon returns to your side, his gaze flickers between yours and the popsicle. of course, he says yes to the bite that you offer him, waving the popsicle in front of your face until he takes the bait. just when he gets close enough to you, you steal the popsicle away, instead placing your lips where his are.
beelzebub stares at you a good moment, cheeks reddening before he pulls back and snaps his head to the side to avoid looking at you. "er... sorry... i didn't think you'd move it..."
"it's okay, beel. besides, you still technically got a taste, right?" you purr, taking delight in the way his face flushes.
═ ˎˊ˗
asmodeus; in the bath.
it's rather hard to catch someone like asmodeus off guard. you figure that he has a sixth sense when it comes to anyone within 6 feet who wants to give him attention. so, your last resort is to catch him in his most vulnerable state; while he's taking a bath. it's an idea that takes multiple tries. some days, you wait and listen outside his private bathroom, hoping to hear the light snores that accompany the demon when he's tired enough to fall asleep in the tub. the day that it happens, you're silently cracking the door open, thankful that the door doesn't creak as it allows you space to enter. as if you had experience in pulling pranks that required you to be quiet (which you do, thanks to satan), you crawl over to the bath, peering over the edge just enough to see asmodeus' resting form. you inhale once, gathering your courage, before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss on his shoulder.
asmodeus splashes himself awake at the sensation, soaking you in the process. "you-! MC!"
"got nothing to say for once, hm?" your teasing lilt almost has him fuming, but there's another desire that's threatening to take over first.
═ ˎˊ˗
satan; after stealing his book.
during one of your regular cat café outings with satan, you decide to have a little fun with the blonde. satan, as smooth as ever, was always one step ahead of you when it came to flirting. he was just too in tune with everything that you were; it was both your favourite and your least favourite thing about him. it takes a while for you to set the whole situation up. everytime satan turns to pet a cat or take a sip of his drink, you shift closer to him, all the way until you sit shoulder to shoulder. the demon only gives you a curious glance, but returns to his reading in no time. you focus back onto your book as well, waiting for when satan becomes immersed enough in the story that he doesn't notice your hand creeping towards the spine of his book. in a flash, you snatch the book away from him, and as he turns to give you a glare, you place a gentle kiss right on his cheek.
"oi, w-what's the deal?" satan stares at you, hand hovering right over where you kissed him.
you hold his book in front of him, smiling like you didn't do anything. "oh, just felt like it."
═ ˎˊ˗
leviathan; when he wins a game.
you watch leviathan's screen with much anticipation. he had been playing an all night tournament and was close to the end, which meant you could give him his little surprise soon. you spent the night in his room by accident, falling asleep in his tub while he mashed the buttons on his controller. of course, when you wake up in the morning, he's still going for it, eyes red from staring at the screen, but no less focused than before. the good thing about leviathan being distracted by games means you can do almost anything without him noticing. so when you see the end of his game marathon approaching, you crawl out of the tub and set yourself behind him, waiting for the screen to light up in victory. as soon as it does, leviathan whips around to wake you and tell you the good news, but you're faster. you're kneeling behind him already, and when his face is within reach, you cup his cheek with one hand and brush his bangs away with another, kissing him softly on his forehead.
leviathan stutters incoherently, trembling hands dropping his controller before he releases an unfortunately high pitched squeal. "g-give me a warning!! like a two- no- three month warning before doing that!"
"sorry, i just wanted to surprise you," you say as you stifle a laugh, trying to peel leviathan's hands away from his face.
═ ˎˊ˗
mammon; after getting into his car.
a midnight car ride is one of your favourite ways to wind down after a long day, and mammon knows it. he can already sense the exhaustion that drips off you, and your first man is always ready to offer the passenger seat to you once he's done all of his errands. tonight, mammon has some extra work to do for lucifer, but he hands you the keys to his car and tells you to wait for him there while he finishes up. as you get into the car, you decide to pull a sneak attack on him later, which leads to you leaning the seat back and tucking yourself into your hoodie as you wait. with the amount of times you had already fallen asleep in mammon's car, it was almost easier to just fall asleep instead of pretending. but you keep yourself awake, and you're glad you did when you hear mammon open the driver's door and mutter to himself about how you had gone and fallen asleep before the ride. you feel him hover above you as he tries to buckle you in, but before he can finish, you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him close, kissing him on the underside of his jaw.
mammon blinks at you, dumbfounded, before placing his hands on your shoulders and pushing himself away. "you- you're a jerk! why'd ya do that?!"
you brush his hands off, returning your seat to the right position and putting your seatbelt on. "i could just tell the great mammon needed some affection."
═ ˎˊ˗
lucifer; in the middle of a meeting.
it's not your fault for being so distracted. it's definitely lucifer's for being so dedicated to his work that he can't give you the time of day. so, you can't blame yourself for always shooting him a glance, even if he's already tried to reprimand you for not being focused. you groan internally everytime you look at the clock; you were fairly certain that this meeting didn't need to be two hours long anyways. by the time the meeting is at the ending remarks, you don't even realize it, having stared off into space for at least the last half hour. as you blink yourself back into reality, you make out the figures of lucifer and diavolo talking to each other about the budgeting for RAD classes, which you should be involved in, but can't bring yourself to join. instead, you decide to get lucifer's attention, beckoning him over with a wave. lucifer raises an eyebrow at you, but another wave of your hand has the avatar of pride walking over to you. you stand up to meet him, waiting for lucifer to stop in front of you before you pull him in, sealing your lips with his. lucifer's eyes widen in shock before promptly closing in bliss. for a second, he forgets where he is, until he hears diavolo laughing heartily from across the room. he quickly pulls away from you, straightening his uniform.
"... MC, please save these sorts of things for another occasion and not the meetings," lucifer says, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.
you send a wink towards diavolo, having to stop yourself from laughing at lucifer's expression. "that's lucifer speak for 'later tonight.'"
a/n: if you saw this while it was unfinished... no you didn't 😭😭😭
#obey me#obey me swd#obey me nightbringer#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me x reader#lucifer x reader#mammon x reader#leviathan x reader#satan x reader#asmodeus x reader#beelzebub x reader#belphegor x reader#aris writes 🐈⬛
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Kiss prompt #9 with Eddie? Por favor?
anything for you. ♥
#9: "I think I deserve a kiss."
Eddie is charming your mother. You can tell even from this distance, sitting on the small step in front of your porch while you watch them.
He's been squatting with a some sort of screwdriver near that lawnmower for about 10 minutes, poking it, tightening screws, taking out parts of it you can't even name.
His hands are dirty with what you suppose it's oil, but he doesn't seem to care. He's so focused that he brings the back of his hand to his face and leaves a stain on his cheek without even realizing it.
You smile.
He looks up from time to time, to sneak a glance your way or when your mother talks to him, and then the two of them laugh amicably. After a few more moments, Eddie straightens up the lawnmower and turns it on, demonstrating that, as if by magic, it now works. Your mom thanks Eddie politely, then says something that makes him, you realize, look embarrassed as he stands up, wiping his hands on a grey cloth.
Embarrassed, Eddie? It's an unusual occurrence, to say the least.
It doesn't last long.
She says something else to him, insists. Eddie vehemently denies with small smile. You wonder if she's offering him money.
Eddie, very helpful, turns the mower off and puts it back in the garage.
Your mom touches your shoulder affectionately when she passes you on her way back inside the house, offering a smile that you're not sure you understand. Maybe it's best to not even try to understand.
Eddie comes right behind her, looking very pleased with himself.
The step is too small for two people, but he sits down next to you anyway, his knee lightly bumping yours. "I think I just won your mother over," he announces, and it's probably true; that lawnmower had been abandoned in your garage for the past few months, all but useless. He'll sure be in your mother's good graces for a long time.
"And why would you need to win her over?"
He bumps your shoulder with his. "Oh, you know, for when we decide to get married."
Eddie has no filter. You shouldn't even get flustered by this kind of comment at this point.
You laugh without looking at him, although you sound a little more nervous than you'd like. "So fixing a lawnmower is worth my hand in marriage?" you ask in mock seriousness.
"No, but it's a start. Don't you think I deserve, say…" he puts a strand of hair behind your ear, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing your temple. "…a kiss? I think I deserve a kiss. Sounds fair enough, doesn't it?"
Now you have no choice but to look at him. This space really is too small for two people, and the proximity between is slowly melting away what little common sense you have left.
"You can ask her," you chuckle, pointing to the front door despite knowing that, of course, Eddie wasn't talking about your mother, "but I think my dad won't like the idea, you know."
Eddie grins when you look away. He can read you like a book.
"Don't be mean, sweetheart."
"You're the one being mean."
He leans closer, and you can feel his breath on your cheek, the tip of his nose almost touching the side of your face, hoping you turn to look at him too. "Me? I'm just trying to make things clear." He pauses, and you can practically hear him thinking. "Maybe I should try a different approach."
You tilt your head, curious. "Like what?"
"Like..." Eddie hesitates for a moment, gathering his courage, "…you could go out with me."
You blink.
"Don't look so surprised," he says quickly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I can do dates. Fancy dinner, movies, the whole shebang. Just give me a chance."
You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look into his eyes. It's true, at first glance, he's not exactly the most romantic person you know, with his tattoos, his love for heavy metal and his old van that always smells like cheap cologne, cigarettes and leather. But none of that matters, because you can't deny that there's something there between the two of you, something that you've been forcing yourself to ignore for far too long.
The oil stain is still right there, on his cheek. Without thinking too much, you reach up and rub it off slowly with the pad of your thumb. "I don't need fancy," you murmur, because it's true. You don't care about the glitz and the glamor, not when it comes to Eddie.
His breath hitches when you touch him, like he's not used to anyone being this gentle with him, like he's forgotten what it feels like.
You can feel the warmth of his skin through your fingers, the rough stubble of his beard prickling your palm. You wonder if he knows how soft you've become around him, how easily you let him affect you.
"Really?" he whispers, eyes wide and unblinking, as if he's afraid he's imagining this.
You nod, still rubbing his cheek even though the stain is already long gone. You can feel him relaxing into the touch, leaning into you just a little more. It's like he's been waiting for this, for someone to finally see past the tough exterior he shows the world and find the tender, vulnerable boy underneath.
Eddie grins, leaning closer, his voice lowering to a husky murmur. "I promise to be on my best behavior."
[join my 3k followers celebration! ♥]
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie x you#eddie x reader#stranger things fanfic#stranger things imagine#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb
684 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 — 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐒/𝐎 ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
notes: i'm just in the mood for fluff so here ya go !! ᰔ
warnings: none, just a little suggestive in some parts.
𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 has absolutely no problem giving you the attention you crave from him—he loves your surprise texts, your sweet doting, the way the last words that leave your lips every night are "i love you so much, osamu" as you fall asleep tucked under his arm. dazai actually loves the fact that you follow him around, asking him if you look pretty or if he likes your hair or outfit—he's learned your ways and you suit each other perfectly, he has a way of always knowing exactly what you need to hear. you cook for him often, hug him and kiss him always, practically drop to your knees each night he comes home from work, so eager to please him—you seem to pretty much always want your hands on him, and he's obsessed with your affectionate nature. there's not a single thing in the world that could convince him to let you go—he's that hooked on you. he never imagined he would find someone who loves him as much as you do, and the fact you always seek to have him as close as possible just makes him feel even more loved.
"mmm, get closer, 'samu."
"ha, i can't, darling—i've already got my arms wrapped around you."
"ugh, it's not enough, can you squeeze me a little tighter?"
"you're so cute, angel. how about i pull you onto my lap, that better? now you can stay and watch me while i do my work. i'll cuddle ya extra hard tonight, too, k?"
𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 doesn't really know how to accept the love you give him, or at least, that's how it is when you first start dating—as time passes, he starts to love the things you love about him, and his confidence grows for once in his life revolving around something other than his physical strength. your love language takes the form of performing sweet little acts of service for him—making him dinner, bringing him his coffee in the morning and rubbing his back when he's sore from a long day. he loves how you watch him when he gets dressed after a hot shower, your hand trailing down your body and he knows you're turned on just by watching him. but he stares at you just the same, watching as you brush your hair or apply your skincare at night—truthfully, he finds himself seeking you out throughout the house on his day off, finding you when you're cooking or watching tv and wrapping his arms around you, snuggling into you. he wishes he could find the courage to be as vulnerable as you—it's beautiful to him the way you love, the way you lean on him to make your day brighter, asking him to say "i love you" whenever you feel even a little neglected, and he finds himself even more eager to hear you say it back each time.
"hmm, what are ya thinking, sweetheart? you look pretty deep in thought."
"thinking about you, chu- you know that."
"ha- but i'm right here, princess."
"i know, 'm just thinking about kissing you again. you give the best kisses, c'mere? i want another one already."
𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 really appreciates how affectionate you are. he's still learning to express his own feelings, so having you be so vocal about what you want from him means there's less guesswork on his part. "baby, do you like this outfit? i feel a little awkward today, ugh." his compliments are always genuine, since he doesn't know how to be anything but honest, quite frankly. "of course, you look so pretty, love. do you not feel like you are?" "mmm, idk- i love hearing it from you, though." akutagawa also loves it when you make him little bento box lunches, snuggle up next to him when he's feeling weak, and massage his bruises from a long day at work. it doesn't seem like you're with him just because you're impressed by his ability, and it's refreshing to him—he's known as one of the strongest members of the mafia, but he sometimes feels valued only for his skill. it's just one part of him, and before he met you he wondered if anyone would ever care about what else he has to offer. he's grateful you care about what's on his mind and how he feels, what his fears are, what his greatest weakness is. you're teaching him a lot about himself, and he only hopes he does the same for you. you're like a comfy, cozy home to him—a refreshing breeze after years of heavy isolation and loneliness that almost crippled him.
"anything you want for dinner tonight, babe?"
"huh? no, i'm fine with whatever, i love anything you make."
"aku, you always say that, tell me what you want!"
"really? alright, let's order in, i'd rather just spend time with my arms around you. that is what i want."
𝐅𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀 is quite solitary, he really prefers being by himself most of the time. however, when he made the decision to start dating you, he realized he'd have to open up a little, and he eventually finds that his desire to be free from the responsibility of a relationship is fading quickly. you got into a few fights during the start of your relationship, with him making a few (unintentionally) hurtful comments about you following him around everywhere. "i just want to be by myself for a moment, can i just relax for a few minutes?" yukichi is blunt and straightforward, and though you'd told him before you admire that about him, he knows it gets him in a bit of trouble sometimes, and it strains your relationship, as well. as time passes, though, he finds himself craving your touch more and more, and he's certainly grateful you stuck around during his transition period. he can't fall asleep without you next to him now, the sound of your breathing the greatest comfort to him. he knows he's a bit of a workaholic, but he comes home early at least once a week and brings you flowers and your favorite coffee, calling out to you when he enters your shared home.
"dear? i'm home."
"yay, you came home early again?!"
"ha- are you that excited, my love? i just saw you this morning."
"yes, of course! now i get to spend all night with you, i love doing that. i can't believe i get you all to myself tonight, yukichi!"
#— love notes: [bsd] ୧ ‧₊#bsd x reader#dazai x reader#chuuya x reader#akutagawa x reader#fukuzawa x reader#bsd fluff#bsd headcanons#bsd smut#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x y/n#dazai x you#bsd x you#bsd x y/n#chuuya x y/n#chuuya x you#akutagawa x y/n#akutagawa x you#fukuzawa x y/n#fukuzawa x you
572 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello dear writer! Whenever you have time would you consider doing a fluff and maybe smut piece about how Adam would be on a restaurant date? I’m so curious how he would act since they didn’t have dates when he was alive a trillion billion million years ago.
And Valentine’s Day has me way up in the feels 🥹
Thank you bebe 🩵
A bit late for Valentine's day but better late than never babes 😎 this was longer than I was expecting 🫢
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Valentines
It's been a while since Adams been on a "date" if you could even call it that. The last "date" he had was with Eve in the Garden of Eden. So... Yeah. A while might be an understatement. He also hated the day. Like many holidays. Why should SaInT vAlEnTiNe get a whole holiday after him?! Adam is the ORIGINAL dick. If anything there should be a holiday celebrated for HIM. But, whatever. You were into it. And he was into you.
He was so nervous when he asked you out for Valentine's day. He waited until last minute before finally getting the courage to ask. Ten o'clock at night he frantically knocked at your door. You hurried to answer, the panic filled your body at the knocking. It was desperate, like someone needed help. When you opened the door and saw a panting Adam you were confused. Was he hurt? Before you could say anything he put his hand up to your face signaling you to not speak as he caught his breath. It was odd why he was out of breath. He flies everywhere. Did he run? "Be- huff- will you- jesus, fuck- pant-" his hand were on his knees as he choked on his breath. "Ada-" hand in your face. Rude. He straightened himself out, at least as much as he could in the small apartment hallway. The apartment was made for smaller Winners not 8 foot Giants like Adam. "Be my Valentine?" He panted out. Of course you said yes! What can you say? You've been crushing on him for, like, ever! You never picked up that he likes you back. Even though he was never subtle. "Cool- pant- text you the deetz." He shot you some finger guns before leaving.
So now it's Valentine's day! 💘 Cupid's shot his arrow and hit you. You're feeling fun, flirty, and feisty. You put on your cutest outfit and checked yourself in the mirror. Is cute what you're going for? It's your first date. But it is Valentine's day. You don't wanna be prudish. You change into something a bit more revealing and again checked yourself. This might be a bit too sexy.. slutty even! You don't want to give the impression that you put out of the first day! Even if you do. No. This needs to be perfect. You think to yourself... "I bet Adam isn't having this much trouble."
You weren't wrong. Adam was much more relaxed. Too relaxed. Why would he be nervous? He's the man. In fact he was out right now looking at new guitars. When he left the store he saw Valentine, surrounded by his Cupid's. "Augh." Adam grunted, not wanting to interact with the Saint. "Adam!" Shit. "A little birdy told me you've got a Valentine's this year. It's been what? Centuries?" Valentine laughed. Adam rolled his eyes, then glared at him. "Yeah? So what? I figured it's a good way to get free pussy." Adam shrugged as a cocky grin formed on his face. The Cupid angels surrounding Saint Valentine cringed. "Oh, Adam. Come now! This is a holiday of love and romance. Not cheap pickups!" The man placed a hand on Adam shoulder which he immediately shrugged off. "So, are you going anywhere special? Have you bought the lucky angel flowers? Chocolates? A gift of adoration?" "Uh.. what?" "You haven't bought them anything have you?" The man laughed, putting his hand on Adams shoulder again pulling Adam closer. "Good luck getting fucked, playboy." He hissed with a wicked smirk. Valentine released Adams shoulder laughing. "Happy Valentine's days!" He said before flying away with his cupids. "Motherfucker!" Adam's flew off to the nearest store to get you some flowers.
When he arrived the flower section was bare. Maybe one half dead rose. "What the hell?" He flew all over the store looking for anything Valentines related. "No, no, no!" He stopped in one of the aisles before finding worker. "Hey! Where the fuck is the stuff?" "S-stuff, sir?" Adam gestures around the store. "You know! The fucking Valentines shit! Where is it?!" The poor retail worker fretted telling him there was nothing left. "V-valentines day is o-one of the most popular days of the year sir... There's nothing left.." "NOTHING LEFT?!?!" Adam yelled. His voice booming around the store causing shelfs to shake knocking almost everything off. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NOTHING LEFT?! I NEED SOMETHING FOR TONIGHT!!!" "I - I'm sorry, sir!" The poor angels voice shuddered. Adam groaned, balling his hands into fists. He was about to leave before he noticed a bottle of soda that hadn't fallen. He pushed it off the shelf for good measure before storming out of the store.
He wasn't going to spend all day looking for shit of this shitty holiday. He hated it. This was dumb! He's gift enough. Still, he takes his phone and texts Lute
"URGENT! flowers! Plz get 4 me thx dngrtits"
That'll do. He heads home to get ready for your date.
～♡✧｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧♡～
The time comes and Adam is waiting outside of your apartment building, he's not walking up all those stairs again. He was feeling cool. Calm. Collected. Until he saw you. His hands started getting clammy, his heat racing. You look so pretty. You of course found the prefect in-between of cute and sexy for your outfit. "Heeey, you could of made an effort." He joked. You frowned. You thought you did well. He clears his throat. "Let's go." He wiped his hands on his robe before taking flight with you following after.
You both arrived at the restaurant. Neither of you stop on the way. It was awkward. He walked in first, he didn't hold the door open for you. Rude. Once inside you noticed the restaurant was jam packed. Adam also noticed this and froze. "Good thing you booked, right?" You said, playfully, hoping to break some tension. "Uh... Yeah... Wait here, surgartits." He walked over to the host. "I need a table for two." The host scoffed. "Yeah, sure. We've got one available tomorrow." Adam was fuming. This was all going wrong. This can't go wrong. "Do you fucking know who I am?!" He raised his voice. "I'm fucking ADAM! I'm the fucking man! And I want a damn table!" You walk over. "Adam?" "What, bitch!? Fuck! Can't you see I'm busy?! I'm getting us a table!" He yelled at you. No. Nope. You're too good to be yelled at. This was meant to be fun. Fuck this. You put your hands in the air. "Nope. I'm out." You turn on your heels and exit the restaurant. "Wait- no, y/n." He looks as you exit then back at the host. "I'll ruin your fucking life, cunt." He hissed before flying out of the restaurant.
He looks around and you were no where to be seen. "Fast fucker. AUGH!!!" He stomped his foot covering his face with his hands. If he wasn't wearing his mask he'd be pulling his hair.
You got yourself home. Fucking shit day. Dumb idea. You don't even know why he asked you. The whole thing was dumb. Everything about it was dumb. You collapse onto the couch, sulking. It doesn't take long before there's a knock at the door. Adam you suspect. You roll your eyes before peeling yourself off the couch. Opening the door you see Lute. Huh. "Uh.. hi?" "Adam requests your presents. Put on this blind fold." She hands you a blindfold. "What?" She didn't repeat herself. She never does. You groan, knowing she won't leave until you do it so whatever. You put the blindfold on and lute takes your wrist and flies off with you ragdolling.
Once your feet touch the ground she lets go of your wrist. Leaving you there blindfolded. "Uh.. you can take that off now." You do, to see a candle lit picnic layed out. It was adorable, there were fairy lights on the trees. Adam stood there, awkwardly, with a bunch of your favourite flowers. How did he know? Lute. "Uh. Surprise.." he handed you the flowers. "Sorry, about the restaurant. Fucking idiots double booked or something.. I don't know." He shrugged. You know it wasn't true. He didn't book, you know that. But you smiled. "Thank you, Adam. This is much nicer." He smiled and stretched. "Well, what can I say? I know what I'm doing."
You sat on the blanket, Adam did also and popped open a bottle of champagne. "I got the good stuff." You smile at the gesture although you always thought champagne tasted disgusting. He got all the good stuff, strawberries and chocolates. Cheese board. Cute little cakes. "This is all very well thought out. How did you get this so quickly?" You asked. He shrugged with a smirk. "I'm just that good, babe." Lute. This was more his style anyway. Outside, under the stars. It reminded him of the Garden.
"so, this was fun." He rubbed the palm of his hands on his knees. "I'd much rather not do this Valentine's bullshit though. Maybe next time we can just... Do it whenever?" "I'd like that. Although, this Valentine's day has turned out pretty perfect." You smile. "Well. I am perfect so." He smirks at you. You don't want to stroke his ego anymore than you already have. You roll your eyes before quickly giving him a peck on the lips. "you're alright, I suppose." You took his sweaty hand in yours and led down, he followed. You both watched the stars in silence. He'd gently squeeze your hand every now and then, you'd squeeze back.
"Happy valentine's, Y/N."
"Happy valentine's, Adam."
#hazbin hotel#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel adam x reader#adam x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel adam smut
346 notes
·
View notes
Note
44. “I saw you naked once. And now I can’t stop thinking about it.”
45. “How are you so oblivious? I’m trying to tell you I’m fucking horny!” with spencer also he would literally memorize your body
Mini skirts. Tight shirts. Clevage. Accidental falls on his lap. Caresses on the thigh. You had used every move on your book, albeit questionably outdated, to get his attention, and that wasn't even through out the week, it was just this morning.
You couldn't get Spencer Reid to look at you, let alone sleep with you. Regardless of how badly you wanted that. One would think with his ability to read body language he would have already noticed that you were practically oozing pheromones in his direction, like an animal in heat, and yet he continued to drift his sight whenever you bent over to obnoxiously pick up the eleventh pen you had dropped since you got to the office. Everyone else enjoyed the show, everyone but the one person it was directed to.
Needless to say, your mood took a hit. Scratch that, you were straight up sad. You had heard chatter from Penelope and JJ that he liked you, and you decided to go for it only to find out, allegedly, that he didn't have the least interest in you.
You mopped around the rest of the day, and you had changed into more comfortable clothes you carried on your go-bag; what was the point on looking hot if he wasn't even gonna notice? Time flew by and night fell, everyone went home on time, thank god, but you chose to stay behind. The only thing worse than being horny for your uninterested coworker was sitting at home alone masturbating to the thought of him.
"You're not leaving?" his voice startled you a bit, forcing you to look up from the file you were working on.
"No." you answered dryly, uncharacteristic of you "Got a lot of stuff to do."
He stood there with his usual awkward demeanor, the same one you found utterly adorable and annoyingly attractive. His hands fiddled with the strap of his bag, deciding whether to simply let you be or intervene in your clearly bad mood.
"Are you okay?" he asked doubtfully.
"You know what? I'm not." you, somehow, gathered the courage to say, you stood up from your desk and closed the folder annoyedly, your lower body rested against the edge of the surface, your arms folded over your chest "Do you even like me?" you asked.
"What? Of course I like you!" he blurted out desperately, dropping his bag to his side to hurriedly stand in front of you "I consdier us to be very good friends."
"That's not— " you had to stop yourself, there was no point in threading lightly around Spencer, you knew that "I have been trying to get your attention the entire day, and you won't even spare me a glance."
"I can't look at you while we're working! I immediately get—" he also had to force his voice to stop and lower, clearing his throat in the process, it was late but not that late, people could still be around. He took a deep breath in, trying his best not to perish out of embarrassment at his confession "One time, Hotch asked me to go get you for a briefing. You were in the locker rooms, it was an accident, I swear, I didn't expect to see you naked, but I did." his face had tinted a lovely red, and his hands were having a hard time keeping still "I can't stop thinking about it. If I as much as look at you, I will get excited."
You swallowed an anticipated knot in your throat, and a pulsating sensation took over your lower body.
"I'm pretty sure there's a way I could help you with that." you extended your arms to have them laying on his shoulders, promptly wrapping them around his neck.
"There is, actually, you could start buttoning your shirts properly." he said, and you had to roll your eyes.
Instead of saying something else, you tugged him forward to let your lips land on the side of his jawline. He lost his balance for a second, having to press his palm against the desk for support. Soft moans were coming out from his lips at the licks and gentle sucks you would take on his skin trailing down his neck.
"How oblivious can you be?" you muttered against his skin before moving to his mouth, your teeth dragging his bottom in a playful nibble "I'm trying to tell you that I'm fucking horny."
Your words barely had left your mouth before he was attacking it with his own. His hips pressed forward and you could feel the harded bulge rub against your thighs.
It was the rustling of his belt being pulled open what let you know you had finally cracked Spencer Reid, and you were in for a good night of being rewarded for that.
#this one is not so smutty i am very sorry#couldn't quite figure out how to make it so#more like foreplay#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid smut#reid smut#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#blurb: mine#blurb: spencer#blurb: smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Oxygen Breathers: With one hand tied behind my back!
The human sat on the bench in the common area for at least one of their hours before the children worked up the courage to approach.
"You're a human right?" One of the children - an Innari - said as they approached the human. They were taller than the human, and seemed to have barely any bones. They moved and undulated like an octopus that was used to being out of the water.
The human's helmet flashed an cartoon icon of its face and smiled - without their teeth - broadly. "That's right! My name is Harold, but everyone calls me Harry. What's your name?"
"I'm Opian, this is Downward Draft, and standing in the back is Vizxxian." They gestured with their tentacle-like appendage. It had manipulators on the end which could be seen a little like fingers. Good for fine detail work.
Harry put up his gauntleted hand and spread his fingers. A wave. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. What can I help with?"
"Downward Draft says humans are the strongest of the Coalition peoples. Is that true?"
Harry sat up slightly. His icon continued to speak while he did. "Well, I don't rightly know if that's true, Downward Draft. I haven't met everyone. Of the ones I did meet, I have a hunch I might be stronger, but you also have to remember, we come from a heavier world than most of the other Coalition species. Earth's gravitational pull is half again what it is here on this station.
There were gasps and noises of surprises from the kids. "That's so heavy!" Downward Draft rustled their feathers they caught the light and sparkled. "This station is already heavy for us; our homeworld's gravity is even less. I bet I couldn't' even walk on your planet!"
Harry's icon nodded. "You might be right, Downward Draft. But, gravity aside, it's nice here. I like the colors you use to decorate, and I like your plants. Everything back home is just different shades of green."
Vizxxian was working themselves up for something. Harry peered over Opian's head. "How about you? Do you have a question?"
Viz's eye slits squeezed shut and they blurted out "My parent says you're all a bunch of 'rock throwers' and that we should have never let you into the Coalition. They say that outside of your suits and ships, you're not so tough."
Downward Draft nudged Viz. "Don't be mean Viz! Harry is a guest here. You know how to treat guests."
Harry chuckled. "It's all right Downward Draft. We learn things from our parents. Part of growing up is trying to figure out what is true and what isn't. Now, I'm not mad, but you know that 'rock throwers' is a slur, and not a nice thing to say, right?"
Viz's ears wiggled in assent. "Yes, but that's the word father used. I know it's a bad word though."
Harry nodded. "Context is important though. I could say 'I picked up this rock and threw it' and that's not a slur, but if I said 'those rock throwers always go back on their deals' that is a slur. It's all right though, I'm not angry." Harry's helmet cleared. The kids looked across as his face became visible for the first time. Opian's eyes dilated in surprise. "So your dad thinks that we're not so tough outside of our suits? How about we place a little wager? I'll get out of my suit, and if any of you can touch my arm, I'll buy you a snack."
Opian shrinked back. Downward Draft raised their feathered arms in a gesture of dismissial. "You can't breath the atmostphere here! You'll die!"
Harry put up a hand. "It'll be all right. I'll wear a breathing mask, and the pressure and atmosphere difference won't hurt me for the time I'll be out of the suit."
"Oh we couldn't-"
"I'll do it!" Opian and Downward Draft turned in shock to Viz. They had stood to their full height, just a little taller than Harry and bent their legs just a little. "I can touch your arm."
Harry grinned. "Good. Let's see." Harry stood up, and touched the pad on his suit's arm. There was orange light that illuminated his face and he frowned and pressed more buttons on his suit. After a moment, it turned green, and lines appeared all over the suit. Joints. With a hiss of pressure and a whine of servos, his suit unfolded like a flower, and Harry stepped out.
He was much shorter than the kids. Just two meters tall if that. On the top of his head was a dark fur that was closely cropped, and he had fur all over the lower part of his face that was the same color. Under the outer, armored suit he wore a tight body suit that connected to the outer suit with thin wires. Harry reached down and unplugged them and they slid up into the suit he was wearing and disappeared. Opian was impressed. Their suits seemed to be far more advanced than ones of Innari make.
"There." Harry's voice was much lower than his translator made it sound. Maybe it was the difference in breathing gas? It was also a little muffled by his mask. "Okay Viz. Whenever you're ready."
Opian and Draft stood back and watched. Viz stood stock still and seemed like they were trying to decide what to do. Suddenly, Viz howled and ran towards Harry. Their long legs consumed the distance between them relentlessly. At the last half meter, Viz spun and in one fluid motion bend down and lashed out with one of their legs. Opian gasped. He was attacking Harry! That's a lethal kick if it connects.
Before Opian could react any further, Harry... wasn't were he was before. He was standing a meter to the side, and Viz was flying backwards into the bench. Viz jumped up, and roared again. This was a roar of frustration as well as a battle cry, and charged Harry. Once again, Harry stood there watching, and as Viz turned to kick him, he wasn't were Viz expected, and they went skittering across the smooth floor.
Harry stood with his hands on his hips. His eyes flicked to Opian and Draft. "Remember, strength isn't everything. Know your opponent. Know how they attack, watch for signs, paying attention and then you can move out of the way and dodge." Harry was grinning and put his hand out and curled his fingers towards himself. "Come on, Opian, Downward Draft, you try too!"
Downward Draft bent low and leapt towards Harry, using their legs to absorb as much potential energy as possible, releasing it as they sprung towards him with arms outstretched. Quicker than Opian could follow, Harry ducked underneath the Avar, and Draft sailed harmlessly overhead.
Harry, looked at Opian and raised one of the small lines of hair above his eyes. "What about you, Opian? Give it a try?"
"No, thank you Harry. I concede. There's no way I could touch you."
Harry's nodded. "That's all right. Mayb-"
Harry looked over and Downward Draft was standing mere centimeters away, with his arm out, and the barest edge of one of his iridescent feathers brushed against Harry's arm.
"Got you." Draft whispered.
Harry tipped his head back and laughed. The kids all took a step back in fear. "No, no, it's all right. that's a fair touch. You win, Downward Draft. I'll buy you snacks. Just let me get back into my suit. My skin is starting to itch."
It only took a moment for Harry's suit to climb onto him and fit around him as he stood there. "I have to say Downward Draft, you can move quietly."
They ruffled their feathers in pride. "Thank you Harry. On my world, moving without noise is a prized skill."
Harry darkened his helmet and his icon re-appeared. "Harry?"
He turned, "Yes, Viz?"
"You don't have to darken your helmet. We don't think you're scary anymore."
Harry's helmet cleared. He smiled without showing his teeth. "I'm glad to hear that Vizxxian. I'm glad to hear that."
#humans are deathworlders#writing#humans are space orcs#humans are space oddities#jpitha#sci fi writing#humans and aliens#humans are space capybaras#humans are space australians#The Oxygen Breathers
688 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
superiorkenshi
KENSHI
trrashbag
C o c o n u t s
newtsome
pas de deux
lovingjapan
bedarumica in giappone