Tumgik
#but didn't have the stomach to seek it out
dashofghost · 20 hours
Text
MY BODY AND MY BLOOD
or, there's only one bed. mdni.
Winter came early, earlier than it should have, before the heat could kick in throughout the middle of nowhere base somewhere in Russia. The day of travel weighed heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion seeking into your bones. You wanted nothing more than a shower and to fall into bed and sleep for the next week.
The universe, unfortunately, had other plans.
"Right," Price sighed, "barracks are full, we've got to share." His eyebrows furrowed as groans arose from Soap and Gaz, "can it, lads. You two are together, get used to it." Soap rolled his eyes dramatically, yelping as Gaz elbowed him in the side.
"You two," Price sighs, pointing at you and Ghost, "you'll be together. Rooms 142 and 143, don't care who gets who. Just show up tomorrow." You could feel Ghost behind you, hovering like some gargantuan bat. Oh god. You were going to have to share a room with him.
You're both quiet as the team heads down the hallway, Gaz and Soap's banter loud enough for the both of you. Price dismisses you with a gruff goodnight, all too eager to lock himself in his room.
"This is us." Ghost's timbre catches you off guard, and you start, head whipping over your shoulder. The lines around his eyes crinkle, or at least, you think they do, behind the mask and the paint.
"Sorry," he mutters, bowing his head, "didn't mean to scare ya, love."
Love. The nickname, however insignificant, paints your face with a flush. You try to hide it by pushing the door to your shared room open.
It's tiny, with a cramped bathroom attached by the foot of the bed. The only bed. Shit.
You laugh, a hollow, humorless laugh, the culmination of exhaustion and frustration and longing. Ghost groans, burying his head in his hands.
"I'll take the floor," he sighs, but you cut him off immediately.
"No, I'll take the floor. Where would you even fit on the floor? There's not enough floor to fit you," you snap back. Ghost glowers at you through his mask.
"You'll catch your death on the floor," he fires at you, crossing his arms over his chest. A draft blows through the room, as if to echo his point.
"At least I'll fit on the floor," you counter, mimicking his crossed arms. He stares you down, biting his lip as you stare him down right back.
"Fine," he says shortly, "we'll share. Pillow wall work for you?" You nod, moving to arrange the pillows down the bed, trying to quell the excitement brewing in your stomach. You are colleges. This is strictly professional.
You can't help but let your eyes catch on him as he strips his vest and gear, until he's left in thermal underclothes and his balaclava, fingers hesitating at the hem.
"I won't look. If you want to take it off," you offer. He snorts, toying with the fabric.
"Wouldn't work. Besides, you've seen me before. After the grenade," he reminds you, wincing as he pulls his mask off.
He's just as beautiful as you remembered, all soft hazel eyes and sharp, angular cheekbones. His buzzcut has grown out since the last time you saw him, just on the verge of being unkempt. You're staring, and he knows you're staring, but he lets you, throwing his head back with a groan. His neck arches beautifully, and you want to cover it with marks.
You're quick to shed your own gear, trying to look anywhere but his face, but you feel his eyes linger on the arc of your shoulders, the hollow of your neck, the curve of your hips. You climb under the thin blankets, curling as far away from Ghost's side as he turns the lights out.
The bed squeaks as he lays down, adjusting the pillows. He's so big he takes up all of his side and almost part of yours. He moves his legs and they brush against your knee.
"Sorry," he mutters, pulling his calf away like it had been burned. Sparks tingle up your legs.
"'S fine, Ghost," you murmur back. The bed squeaks again as he rolls over to face you, head on the pillow just inches from yours. You want to kiss him. He's so close.
"Do you remember what I told you? After the grenade?" he asks. You nod, but stay quiet as he sighs softly. His hand twitches, like he wanted to reach out for you but stopped himself.
"When it's like this," he breathes, his voice sweet, "when it's just you and me, it's Simon. Call me Simon." He's so soft, in a way you've never seen him before, and you nod, moving ever so close to him.
"Alright," you breathe, "goodnight, Simon."
"G'night, sweetheart."
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
When you wake, it's freezing. Ghost- Simon- is snoring next to you, heat radiating off of him like a goddamn furnace. You curl your body into itself, but shivers rack your shoulders anyway. You groan in frustration, glaring up at the ceiling.
Simon stirs next to you, rolling over groggily. His arm brushes against yours, and he winces, thumb brushing over the skin.
"You're freezing," he whispers, cupping your hand in both of his. Your arc towards him, relishing in the warmth that emanated from him, and he smiles, soft and sweet.
"I'm fine," you mutter, "go back to sleep." You prop yourself up on one elbow, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"Don't be stupid," Simon breathes, "come here. I've got enough warmth for the both of us."
You shove the pillow wall aside so fast it makes Simon chuckle as pillows hit the floor. He wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his chest, hitching a leg over your hip. He's so warm, heat surrounding you on every side as he tucks his head into the hollow of your shoulder.
His hands rest on your stomach, thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt has slid up. You wrap your arms around his, holding them to your chest. He feels safe.
"Better?" Simon asks, pulling you closer to his chest. You nod, sleep already creeping over you as you feel him smile against your neck. His thumb rubs soothing patterns on your skin as you slowly drift to sleep.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
When you wake again, it's still dark. You're facing Simon, clinging to one of his arms with your head buried in his chest. He's rubbing your back, and as you look up at him, his eyes are open.
"What time is it?" you whisper, stretching slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He glances down at his watch, toying his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Five thirty-seven," he responds, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, tracing your cheek and cupping it in his callused hand. Your eyes flick down to his lips and back again.
"Simon-"
"Can I kiss you?" His voice is ragged with desperation, pupils blown wide. With a soft gasp, you nod.
"Please."
He kisses you softly, tenderly. You pull him closer, hands interlocking at the back of his neck, one trailing down to his cheek. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath.
"Oh," he breathes, almost against your lips. He pushes himself up against the headboard, a spark growing in his eyes as he pulls you into his lap.
His second kiss is desperate, his teeth sinking into your lower lip, hands tangling in your hair. You arch in his grip as his hands drift to bracket your hips, your body flushing as he pulls you even closer. Your nails dig into his back and he moans against your lips, you crave the feeling of his bare skin against your fingers even though the cold prohibited it.
You gasp softly as Simon slides his thigh between your legs, cheeks flushed as he takes you in between kisses. His hands are greedy, one slipping dangerously low on your hips before slipping past the waistband of your thermal pants.
"Can I?" he asks quietly, looking up at you from where you're perched on his thigh. His pupils are completely blown, hair messy and cheeks flushed. He looks halfway to heaven and all he's done is kiss you.
"Oh, god, please-" you breathe, burying your head in his shoulder as his hands slides down, spreading you open as well as he could before his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles against it. You cling to his shoulders, teeth biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans. Simon gasps, hands moving your hips to help you grind against his thigh.
"There you go," he whispers, head thrown back as you rub against him, "there you go, lovie, that's it." You whine, rutting your hips harder at his praise. His free hand dips underneath your shirt, crawling up your ribs.
"Si- si, feels so good," you moan, biting on your lip to try to keep your moans down. Simon cups your breast tenderly, pushing your top up your chest.
"Fuck, you're so gorgeous, angel," Simon swears. His lips trail down your neck, resting just above your nipple. His mouth rests open, tongue heavy on his lower teeth as the question forms on his lips.
"Sweetheart, can I-"
Three knocks echo on the door, and you jump, loosing your balance and almost colliding with the bedpost as you scramble to get off Simon's lap. Simon desperately adjusts his pants, trying to hide his raging hard on as Price swings the door open.
"Ghost, you're needed down in command," he orders, and Simon's head falls backwards imperceptibly as he pushes himself off the bed, pushing his feet into his boots. As he follows Price out the door, he makes eye contact with you, slipping his fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he licks your slick off of them. He winks as he walks around the corner, mouthing
this isn't over.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
school is over and my requests deleted themselves somehow so if you've got ideas pls send them
384 notes · View notes
Text
On Thin Ice
Jack Hughes X Reader
best friends brother au!
a;n I haven't touched this fic in so long because I thought u guys didn't like it, but when I checked the notes, it actually did pretty good. I have so much work to put out that I'm excited for you guys to read. This chapter is pretty short btw. Happy reading.
warnings: flirting, not proofread, fuckboy jack, forced proximity
masterlist link
Tumblr media
previous chapter here :)
word count - 3295
...
The apartment was enveloped in an eerie calm as y/n trotted through the hallways, her footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floor. She had been staying in Luke's apartment for the past two days, the slow, eventful weekend rolling by, and it was now Sunday.
As she made her way through the living room, she huffed in annoyance, kicking away a stray pair of socks left carelessly on the floor. "fuckin Luke," she grumbled, making a mental note to throw the socks in the laundry bin on her way back to the guest room.
Y/n rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, the sound of a movie playing on the TV catching her attention. She glanced over at the couch, where Jack sat with his arms relaxed on the top of the pillows, his neck craned to watch her, a contemplative look on his face.
"Hi, stranger," Jack called out, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Hi, Jackie," y/n replied, returning his smile with a small one of her own. She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing home, Luke hadn't mentioned anything about Jack skipping practice earlier.
As if reading her thoughts, Jack patted the seat next to him, his eyes glinting with an unspoken invitation. "Come sit with me?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, her heart skipping a beat at the prospect of being alone with Jack. She couldn't deny the attraction that had been growing between them, the subtle flirtations and lingering glances that had become more frequent over the past few days.
She glanced around the room, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, her fingers fidgeting slightly as she made her decision.
Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Y/n made her way over to the couch, her steps slow and deliberate. She could feel Jack's gaze following her every movement, adding to the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
As she sank into the plush cushions beside him, the warmth radiating from his body enveloped her, and the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne filled her senses, making her head swim slightly.
"What are you watching?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she gestured towards the TV. Her heart raced, and she hoped he couldn't hear it pounding in her chest.
Jack shrugged, his gaze never leaving her face. "Some old movie my mom used to watch. I wasn't really paying attention," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.
Y/n nodded, suddenly hyperaware of how close they were sitting, their thighs nearly touching. The proximity made her skin tingle, and she felt a blush creeping up her neck. As if sensing her nerves, Jack draped his arm across the back of the couch, his fingers gently brushing against her shoulder. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively leaned slightly into him, seeking more of his warmth.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, like a velvet promise. "I don't bite... unless you want me to."
Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing at the implication of his words. She turned to face him, her eyes locking with his, and in that moment, she knew that whatever was happening between them was far from over.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
"Can I ask you something?"
Y/n nodded, a bit taken aback by his demeanor. "Sure, what's up?" she replied, her voice soft with curiosity.
Jack leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching hers, a mix of earnestness and hesitance in his gaze. "Why didn't you want to give me your number that night at the bar, but you became friends with Luke?"
Y/n sighed, feeling a weight settle in her chest. She knew this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. She glanced around Jack's living room, taking in the cozy yet modern décor.
The soft light from a floor lamp cast a warm glow over the room, highlighting the sleek lines of the furniture and the muted colors of the decor. The TV played an old black-and-white movie in the background, its dialogue barely audible over the quiet hum of their conversation.
"Look, Jack," she began, turning back to him, her expression sincere. "I know about your reputation as a hockey player. I didn't want to be just another name on your list." Her eyes flicked to his, gauging his reaction.
Jack was visibly taken aback by her words, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. But a small, rueful smile played on his lips as he nodded, understanding her perspective. "Fair enough," he said, his voice softening. "But you should know, I'm not like that. That's just what the media wants me to be."
Y/n studied him for a moment, her eyes tracing the lines of his face, noticing the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. He looked almost boyish, his usual confident demeanor softened by the sincerity in his expression. The flickering light from the movie danced across his features, adding depth to the moment.
Before she could respond, Jack gestured towards the living room, his smile turning playful yet reassuring. "Let’s just watch the movie, yeah? I promise I'll be on my best behavior."
Y/n felt a smile tugging at her lips as she nodded, relaxing a bit. "Alright, Jack. Let's watch the movie." She settled back into the couch, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders.
Jack’s arm remained draped across the back of the couch, his fingers gently brushing her shoulder from time to time, a comforting presence.
They both turned their attention to the screen, where the classic film played out in black and white. The soft murmur of the movie's dialogue blended with the ambient sounds of the living room, creating a peaceful backdrop for the moment they shared.
About thirty minutes into the film, the sound of the apartment door opening caught their attention. The door creaked open, and Luke walked in, juggling several grocery bags.
He paused in the doorway, a wide grin spreading across his face as he noticed Y/n and Jack sitting together on the couch. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Luke teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You two alone together again?"
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, a blush spreading rapidly as she quickly stood up from the couch, her heart racing. "I was just waiting for you to get home… to start cooking dinner," she explained hurriedly, moving over to the table where Luke had set down the groceries. She could feel the heat in her face intensify, aware of how her voice sounded a bit too high-pitched in her effort to sound nonchalant.
Luke chuckled, shaking his head with amusement. "Sure, sure," he said, winking at Y/n. "Looks like you two were getting pretty cozy."
Y/n busied herself with unpacking the groceries, her hands moving swiftly to organize the items. She couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and excitement at being caught alone with Jack once more.
The memory of his closeness, his touch, lingered in her mind, making it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. She could feel the weight of Jack's gaze on her, intense and unyielding, from his spot on the couch.
Jack stretched, his movements casual but his eyes never leaving Y/n. He leaned back, his arm draped over the back of the couch, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Don't mind Luke," he called out, his tone light and teasing. "He's just jealous."
Luke laughed as he joined Y/n in the kitchen, helping her unpack the groceries. "Jealous? Of what?" he retorted, glancing between the two of them. "You two are the ones having a movie night without me…Again."
Y/n smiled, shaking her head as she started preparing the ingredients for dinner. The kitchen filled with the sounds of chopping vegetables and the clinking of utensils, a domestic rhythm that contrasted with the earlier tension. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of Jack's eyes on her, watching her every move with a mix of curiosity and admiration.
As she worked, she stole a glance at Jack, who was now fully engrossed in the movie but still wore that small, enigmatic smile. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the softness of his expression whenever he looked her way.
It made her heart flutter, knowing that despite the interruption, the connection between them was undeniable and growing stronger with each passing moment.
Luke, noticing the subtle exchanges, shook his head with a knowing smile. "Alright, let's get this dinner started. I'm starving," he said, breaking the silence and adding a bit of normalcy to the evening. "And maybe after, you two can tell me all about this movie you were definitely watching."
Y/n laughed, the sound light and genuine, as she continued preparing dinner, feeling a sense of anticipation for what the rest of the evening might bring.
After dinner, the conversation shifted as Luke brought up his recent date. "So, Y/n, what do you think about me going on that second date with Sophie?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head, a satisfied groan escaping his lips. The remnants of a hearty meal lay scattered across the table, a testament to Y/n's culinary skills.
Y/n shook her head, a playful yet concerned look on her face. "Honestly, Luke, I don't think it's a good idea," she said, beginning to gather the empty plates. "She seems nice, but I have a feeling she's not really your type."
Luke raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh really? And why's that?" he asked, a teasing tone in his voice.
"Well, for starters," Y/n began, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she explained, "she barely laughed at your jokes, and we all know that's a red flag. Plus, she kept checking her phone during dinner, she said she didn’t want anything serious with you, the list could go on."
As Y/n spoke, Jack found himself unable to look away. Her animated gestures, the way her eyes lit up when she was passionate about something, the subtle smile playing on her lips—it all captivated him. He didn't realize he was staring until Luke's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Hey, earth to Jack," Luke called out, smirking. "You good, man? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Y/n glanced over, catching Jack's gaze and laughing. "Yeah, Jack, you okay over there?" she teased, her foot reaching out under the table to gently caress his leg in a playful manner.
Jack's cheeks turned a shade of red that matched the intensity of his smile. He stammered slightly, "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... lost in thought."
Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "Okay, now that we've thoroughly embarrassed Jack, let's go play a game," he said, pushing himself up from the chair and patting Jack on the shoulder.
Jack, still flustered but smiling, nodded. "You're on, little brother," he replied, his competitive nature instantly piqued.
The two men made their way to the living room, their banter filling the air as they set up the Xbox. Y/n could hear the familiar sounds of the NHL game starting up, the commentators' voices blaring through the speakers. She lingered for a moment, watching them, a smile playing on her lips.
Y/n found herself alone in the kitchen, elbow-deep in soapy water as she tackled the dishes. The sound of the boys' laughter and the clashing of virtual hockey sticks drifted in from the living room, but she paid them no mind, focusing instead on the plates and glasses before her.
she stood at the sink, humming a gentle melody to herself. The warm water and suds caressed her hands, and she found a certain peace in the mundane task.
So engrossed was she in her task that she failed to notice the quiet footsteps approaching from behind. It wasn't until a solid form brushed against her back that she realized she was no longer alone.
Before she could react, a pair of strong arms reached around her, grabbing a clean dish towel from the counter. Startled, y/n gasped, spinning around to find herself face to face with Jack.
"Jack!" she exclaimed, her heart racing from the unexpected contact. "You scared me."
A smirk played on Jack's lips as he closed the distance between them, his body mere inches from hers. "Need some help?” he murmured, his voice low and sultry.
Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat as Jack reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, trailing along her jawline before cupping her cheek. The roughness of his palm contrasted with the softness of his touch, sending a shiver down her spine.
"I... I've got it, thanks," she managed to say, her voice slightly shaky.
"I couldn't help but notice," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing her skin, "how beautiful you look when you're concentrating like that."
Y/n's heart hammered in her chest, her words caught in her throat. "I... I was just... doing the dishes," she managed to stammer, her cheeks flushing under his intense gaze.
Jack's smile widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "And you do it so well," he teased, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her body.
He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just a breath away from hers. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, her body trembling with anticipation. She could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the faint scent of his cologne filling her senses. Her mind raced, wondering if he would close the distance, if he would finally kiss her like she had imagined countless times before.
But just as she thought she couldn't take the tension any longer, Jack pulled away, a playful smirk on his face. He reached past her, grabbing a clean glass from the rack, and filled it with water from the tap. "I should probably get back to the game," he whispered, his voice low and teasing. "Luke's waiting for me to beat him again."
"Thanks for taking care of the dishes," he said, his tone light and teasing. "You're a real lifesaver."
With a wink, he sauntered back into the living room, leaving y/n breathless and flustered. She braced herself against the counter, her knees weak and her heart pounding. She couldn't help but wonder if Jack knew the effect he had on her, if he reveled in the power he held over her emotions.
Taking a deep breath, y/n tried to compose herself, but the memory of Jack's touch, his closeness, and the unspoken desire between them lingered, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
The apartment was shrouded in a quiet calm, the only sounds being the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of settling wood. Y/n had just finished washing up and was stepping out of the guest room, feeling the need for a late-night snack.
She padded softly down the hallway, her footsteps almost silent against the cool wooden floor. The smooth surface beneath her feet sent a gentle chill through her body, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.
As she neared the kitchen, she noticed a shadow moving in the dim light. She paused, heart quickening, and realized it was Jack, standing in the hallway with his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, a hushed whisper, as if he didn't want to be overheard.
Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of his phone screen. She couldn't help but admire the way his broad shoulders filled out his t-shirt, the fabric stretching taut across his muscular back.
"No, I told you, it's not like that," Jack murmured into the phone, his tone serious yet soft. "I just need some time to figure things out."
Y/n felt a pang of curiosity but decided against eavesdropping. She quietly slipped into the kitchen, the cool air from the fridge hitting her as she opened the door and began rummaging through the contents. The chill sent a shiver down her spine, and she rubbed her arms to ward off the goosebumps.
As she searched for something to satisfy her late-night cravings, her mind drifted back to the earlier teasing moments with Jack and Luke. A small smile played on her lips as she remembered the playful banter and the way Jack's eyes had lingered on her just a little too long.
Suddenly, the kitchen lights flickered on, and a presence loomed behind her. Startled, she screeched, clutching her chest as she whirled around to see Jack standing there, a mischievous grin on his face.
Her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage as she tried to catch her breath. She couldn't help but notice how close he was, the heat from his body radiating towards her in the small space of the kitchen.
"Damn it, Jack," she gasped, swatting at his chest playfully. "You scared me again today!" Her fingertips brushed against the firm muscles of his chest, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her skin tingled at his touch.
Jack chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sorry, Y/n. Couldn't resist," he said, his voice a low, comforting rumble. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping her. "What are you doing up so late?"
"Just needed a snack," she replied, trying to steady her breathing. "Couldn't sleep."
Jack leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving her face. "Me neither. Want some company?"
Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "Sure, why not," she said, pulling out some leftovers and setting them on the counter. She grabbed a couple of plates and handed one to Jack.
They stood there in comfortable silence, the only sound being the clinking of cutlery as they ate. Jack's eyes kept drifting to Y/n, admiring the way the soft kitchen light played on her features. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the air charged with a flirty tension.
After a few moments, Y/n sighed, breaking the silence. "Jack, can I ask you something now?" she began, her tone more serious now.
"Of course," Jack replied, setting his plate down and giving her his full attention.
"Why do you keep playing these games with me?" she asked, her eyes searching his. "One minute you're all flirty and sweet, and the next you're distant. If you keep joking around like this, you're gonna be on some thin ice."
Jack's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. He stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching. "I'll take that as a challenge," he said, his voice a low whisper, his breath warm against her skin. "I'm not playing games, Y/n. I just... I like being around you. Maybe I don't always know the right way to show it."
Y/n studied his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. But the tension between them was palpable, a mix of frustration and undeniable attraction. "Well, if you're serious, then show me. Because I won't put up with any more nonsense."
Jack's smile widened, and he nodded. "Challenge accepted," he murmured, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he took a step back. "Goodnight, Y/n."
As he walked away, Y/n felt a mix of emotions—excitement, confusion, and a touch of annoyance. Jack had a way of getting under her skin, but she couldn't deny the spark between them. She watched him disappear down the hallway, her heart racing, and wondered what tomorrow would bring.
...
Tag list <3
@rebelatbay @bunbunbl0gs, @ru-kru
114 notes · View notes
robthegoodfellow · 6 months
Text
youtube
15 notes · View notes
joyridingmp3 · 3 months
Text
the only good thing about my job is that every now and then my coworkers will mention something about trauma that describes me that i didn't know i experienced due to cptsd and then i get to subtly be like OHH ✍️✍️📝 okay that's why im like that
2 notes · View notes
thedeliaishere · 11 months
Text
YOUNG WOMAN - Actually, detective, I'm a woman.
EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - She says it so insistently, as if arguing with you. You may have upset her.
COMPOSURE [Formidable: Failure] - You feel a pit in your stomach. You did something wrong, but you don't know what.
LOGIC [Trivial: Success] - Her way of dressing, the feminine name, yet deep voice - it should have been clear to you sooner. She's transgender.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS [Formidable: Success] - Almost imperceptible, the lieutenant anxiously twitches his eyebrow.
DAMAGED MORALE - 1
Transgender? What's that?
This doesn't have any bearing on the investigation.
ENCYCLOPEDIA [Trivial: Success] - A transgender person is someone who does not identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. Oftentimes they will dress conforming to their desired gender roles, change their names, and seek medical intervention to, "transition."
Gender is rather bourgeois, anyway.
Why would any proud Revacholian discard their masculinity?
Changing your gender? That sounds like quite the hustle. Maybe we can learn a thing or two from this woman.
That's cool. I have no opinion on this one way or another.
RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - Just as Mazov dared to challenge the established order of capitalism, so too do others challenge the order of things such as sex and gender.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] - IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE WE'VE FELT THE TOUCH OF A WOMAN. WHO CARES IF SHE USED TO BE A MAN? HAVE SEX WITH HER NOW! ITS WHAT A REAL MAN WOULD DO!
EMPATHY - [Trivial: Success] - Don't do that. It's clear now, you upset her for accidentally calling her a man. Just apologize.
COMPOSURE [Medium: Failure] - Profusely.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - It's important to be a good ally.
DRAMA [Medium: Success] - Make a real show of it, sire!
"Oh, I didn't realize. I'm sorry."
"I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'll leave you alone forever now."
"I haven't been a good representative of the RCM. We're here to help the people of Martinaise, no matter their identity. I'm sorry to have let you down."
[Drama - Legendary 14] Try and come up with an elaborate, heartfelt apology in the style of the turn of the century thespians.
HIGH 83% +1 Found testosterone ampoule on nightstand. +1 Homo-Sexual Underground. +1 Read about the turn of the century thespians. -1 Recovered your gun. -1 Masculinity challenged. This is a Red Check. It cannot be retried.
⚀⚀
CHECK FAILURE
YOU - You try and come up with the words to convey your apology to the young woman, but you come up blank. It's hard to fit, "transgender" into iambic pentameter, as it turns out.
DRAMA - I'm sorry, sire. I have failed you.
KIM KITSURAGI - "Detective? You've been standing there for a whole minute. Are you okay?"
ESPIRIT DE CORPS - Shit, the lieutenant is onto us. We have to say something soon, or we could lose him.
COMPOSURE [Trivial: Success] - Don't worry, we can still salvage this. Anyone have any ideas?
VOLITION [Heroic: Failure] - Let me handle this.
You - "I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. I'm such a fucking failure. Do you want me to kill myself?"
25K notes · View notes
monarchberrysblog · 2 months
Text
𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader
Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.
Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a pillow princess, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)
Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)
Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.
Tumblr media
To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.
Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.
You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?
"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"
"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"
The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it—not as you expected.
"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.
Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.
As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.
/
The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.
The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.
The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.
Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.
A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.
"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.
You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.
"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.
As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.
The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."
"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.
"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."
You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.
"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.
He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."
Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.
His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.
His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"
Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.
"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.
"I want it…"
"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.
"I want your cock… please."
After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.
Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"
"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"
You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.
"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."
It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"
He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.
"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.
/
The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.
Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"
The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."
It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.
His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.
“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”
“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”
The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.
The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”
With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.
“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…
“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.
“Pizza it is, then.”
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
transmascrage · 1 year
Text
Video by ErinInTheMorning on TikTok
[Transcript (there's captions on screen but in case you can't turn on audio):
Erin: "File this one away for the transgender history books, whenever they write about our history; today Lindsey Spero, a trans man, stood in front of the Florida Board of Medicine, which was about to vote to medically ban all gender affirming care for trans youth.
He stood there to deliver his testimony, he delivered a little bit of it, but then he took the remainder of his testimony time to stand there and inject his hormone therapy in front of all of them in stunned silence, and then he turned around and raised his fist. Watch this."
Lindsey: "My name is Lindsey Spero, I'm 25 years old, I'm a resident of St. Petersburg, Florida. I'm also transgender.
I am someone who was subjected to treatments that have been questionable, that were mentioned by people like that woman who came up and spoke, I can tell you for a fact that her child is going to grow up hating her.
I'm sure you've heard many stories that sound like mine already, over the last few months my trans siblings and family members have stood before you, put their hearts on full display and vulnerable pleaded with you to listen to our stories and perspectives.
The American Academy of Pediatrics has condemned your actions and our federal government has spoken out against the actions you seek to take regarding the necessary health care for trans youth.
I could stand here and tell you about the times I attempted to end my life because I didn't have access to gender affirming care but I know, I know you don't care. I see you sneering at us while we come here and talk to you.
Instead I'm going to take the rest of my time to demonstrate the sacred and weekly ritual of my shot in front of you, in this body.
My medication is life saving, I will use HRT for the rest of my life, your denial of my need for this medication, doesn't make my existence as a trans person any less real.
I will be giving myself my subcutaneous shot in my stomach. If you have a needle phobia, please look away."
Lindsey injects his T-shot in silence, helped by another person who passes him a needle and the testosterone in its vial.
After finishing, he raises his fist and turns around to the audience.
Lindsey: "Tomorrow and forever."
The crowd cheers and a few people get up to clap.
Erin: "That, that is what I'm talking about! Good job Lindsey! This is the kind of resistance that matters!"
End transcript.]
(As a sidenote, it seems that Lindsey identifies as nonbinary, not necessarily (or exclusively, anyways) as a trans man. Some articles identify him as transmasc but all of his socials state nonbinary.)
13K notes · View notes
famwhy · 11 months
Text
Not a Morning Person
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
Hobie Brown X F!Reader
Synopsis: Mornings were always difficult with Hobie: he never seemed to want to get up, nor did he ever seem to want to let you to get up either.
Warning: slightly suggestive but mostly fluff.
Note: 'peak' is road slang for 'sad', 'likkle' is 'little', 'ting' is 'thing' (it seems like I need to clarify this but 'peak' can be used as a good thing and a bad thing, it depends on context. In this context, it is used to mean 'sad'.)
Tumblr media
You loved your boyfriend—you really did. He had your whole heart in the palm of his hands and you trusted him with it; trusted him not to squeeze too hard on it—not to shatter it into a million broken shards of a love that once was.
And you damn well knew the feeling was mutual—he'd told you so himself, proclaimed it with eyes that were practically shaped into hearts as he gazed at you with that swirling sense of adoration; one that never failed to make you feel special.
But... you'd be lying if you said he couldn't get a little frustrating sometimes. Like now, for instance.
"Hobie, please."
"No." His response was curt, and very much final.
"I need to get up."
"That's peak for you then, innit?"
His snark edged one of your brows up, and you're sure you would've crossed your arms too had he not restricted your movement with his own—much stronger, might you add—limb.
Your lips parted—very much ready to have a go at him for the unwarranted attitude—when, instead of actual words, a light gasp left them; practically inaudible from how soft it was, but that didn't make what happened any less surprising.
His lips had found their way onto your neck, pressing soft, gentle kisses across the exposed area with an occasional—and very intoxicating—nip here and there. The contact flooded your vision with pink and you almost melted right in that very moment.
"Just a likkle longer, love," he muttered into your skin, lips making contact with the surface in a repeated pattern that shot tingles straight down your spine, "can't believe I got so lucky to land a pretty ting like you."
His hand slipped under your shirt; cold arm resting against the warmth of your stomach as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear in hopes of saving himself from a lecture—and you were afraid to admit that it was very much working. You were always such a sucker for sweet moments like this.
Stop it. Stand your ground, Y/N.
"Hobie."
"Hm?" His head tilted up, gaze looking at you with that sense of endearment only you were privy to receiving from him; the twitch of his lips showcasing his lovestruck smile in a show of vulnerability that, once again, only you had the pleasure of seeing on him.
His hues were softened and practically swirling with that domestic love you knew he held for you; the one that would instantly ease all his muscles and have him actively seek you out just to hold you in his arms, to love on you like he always claimed you deserved.
When you didn't respond immediately, his grip on you tightened and he pulled you further into his side; to fit against him like you were meant to be there, like he was incomplete without you—and you, without him.
Ah, you were always so weak to him when he got like this.
"...okay, we can stay like this for a little longer."
His lips tugged up and he grinned at you, lunging straight for your neck to attack you with another fit of gentle, adoring kisses—ones that made you sigh in what you could only describe as contentment, your fingers finding their way to his wicks, running through them with the bitter taste of defeat on your tongue and the casual swell of love in your heart.
Sure, Hobie wasn't much of a morning person but, to be completely honest—
—you weren't much of one either.
4K notes · View notes
reticent-writer · 1 year
Note
Okay The Hashira taking care of a half human half demon baby? Like the baby can survive on human food and animals and are repulsed by human blood. Like the babies basically are found trying to explore new things like Nezuko in a way
Tumblr media
Demon slayer masterlist Demons with baby reader
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿ 
Shinjuro held you in the air and examined you. Kyojuro left you with his father while he and senjuro went to the market.
Leaving you with a former Hashira wasn't a good idea in hindsight but who would kill a child.
"Half human half demon huh?" He muttered to himself as he watched you move in his arms.
He lowered you to where you were nestled on his chest and he laid back.
Shinjiro and kyojuro came back to see you and their father asleep on the floor in your room.
-------
Giggles could be heard in the Tengen ousehold as it was dinner time.
Tengen was rolling on the floor with you as the girls made dinner.
"Hope the both of you worked up an appetite." Hina came in giggling at her husband on his back with you on his stretched-out feet.
"Ahh lord Tengen you have to be careful with them. They're just a child." Suma came in fusing over to pick you up
-------
Obanai didn't know how to take care of a child so he went to the closest person he knew, Mitsuri.
"Aww look how cute Obanai they eat human food." She gushed as she feed you.
Obanai watched in adoration as he couldn't help but think about how good she is with kids (people in general)
"Cool." Such a shallow response that held back everything he actually wanted to say.
If only he could tell her. (😭)
-------
"What am I supposed to do with you." Sanemi muttered as you crawled all over your temporary bedroom (a small room he didn't know what to do with).
"what do you eat?" He kneeled down to your height. You crawled up to him, using his knees to try and stand.
He poked your stomach causing you to lose balance and fall. You stared up at him, He stared down at you.
you started to huff.
'oh no' the thought 'they're gonna cry'
and cry you did. You screamed your lungs out as he tried everything to calm you down. He even tried to feed you his blood, which only made you scream louder.
He got you to calm down by giving you Ohagi. Turns out you love it almost as much as he does.
------
"Time to go to bed Y/n." Giyuu said as he watched you play with your toys for like two hours.
You turned to him before giggling. Unfortunately for Giyuu, you knew how to run. You stood up and got ready for an unwanted game of tag and hide n seek.
"Don't even try, It's time for bed." Giyuu also got ready as this isn't the first time this happened.
In fact, this happens most nights and Giyuu is always the winner.
You ran out of the room with Giyuu close behind you. You rounded the corner at full speed. Too much speed. You hit the wall. Giyuu was quick to pick you up.
"This is why we don't run in the house." He comforted you by rubbing your head and bringing you to your room. You were asleep in his arms as he laid you down.
------
All Muichirou wanted to do was train but since you were assigned to him his attention was all on you.
Currently, the 2 of you were having a staring contest as you both ate. You copied his movements, and he would just watch.
You never cried, screamed, or made much noise. You and Muichirou got along great.
He brought you to every Hashira meeting and he let you do your own thing.
-----
"Bu" you called to Shinobu from the pin she put you in. It was the only word you could say.
She looked up from her work over to you. You were standing holding on to the bar of the pin.
"Ah someone finally awake." She set her work aside and went to check on you.
"Bu Bu" You squealed as she picked you up.
"I'm here. I'm here."
You were the only reason she never worked herself to death.
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
7K notes · View notes
eldritch-spouse · 2 months
Note
You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.
You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.
“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”
You feel a tentacle around your ankles
[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]
TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.
Tumblr media
It was a stupid idea.
You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.
You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.
You just wanted to escape.
And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.
You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.
It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...
Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.
Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.
You're going to die.
A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.
You don't want to die.
But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.
It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.
Finally.
You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.
If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?
You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.
Eh. You can stomach it...
God, you're starving.
One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.
You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?
Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?
Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.
You huddle closer to the small fire.
Alone.
But always so on edge.
Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.
The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!
The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.
Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?
Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?
Something stalking.
A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.
Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...
Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?
...
Just eat the fucking fish already.
Food.
Focus on the present.
The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?
You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.
You'll see.
Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.
It's... Well, it's sustenance.
It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.
This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.
A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.
You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.
Nothing.
Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.
Huh.
What the fuck is that thing?
Tall.
Two legs...
Arms?!
Shit- Could it be?!
That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.
Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.
That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.
" H- Hey... "
You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.
But you need to at least try, right?
The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.
With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!
" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "
Nothing.
There's no one.
But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?
No. Everything's wrong.
Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.
Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.
Why is this happening to you?
Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?
Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.
The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.
The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.
You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!
The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.
Yeah.
Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.
Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...
You almost wish you hadn't.
Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.
Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.
Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.
From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.
That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.
Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.
An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.
And yet, he just stares.
Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.
You stare back.
This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.
Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.
Odd.
Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.
And then, it makes this chitter.
Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.
They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...
They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.
Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.
The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.
Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.
Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.
In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.
Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.
He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.
When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.
" H- Hi? "
A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.
One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.
Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.
But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.
When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.
When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.
You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.
Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.
And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.
It was only a little flick.
But naturally, he felt it.
The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.
The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.
Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.
The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.
Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.
There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.
There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.
Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.
Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.
Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.
You should not have opened your mouth.
But you did.
And he visibly brightened up.
The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.
And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.
While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.
Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?
That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?
Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.
Instinct takes over.
Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.
And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.
It should not arouse you.
It should horrify you.
... But it doesn't.
Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?
Who knows anymore.
All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.
You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.
Then it appears to click.
You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.
And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.
He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.
Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?
Too many, probably.
Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?
Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.
Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.
And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.
He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.
No, literally.
The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.
You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.
Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.
He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.
Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.
He shouldn't be that far in you.
You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.
He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.
Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.
You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.
So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.
There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.
It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.
By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.
You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.
The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.
It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.
Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.
" ... Try putting one in. "
You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.
He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.
You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-
But a branch snaps in the distance.
And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.
His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.
In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.
Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!
Finally, people came looking for you!
The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.
Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.
You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.
His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...
And leaving your saviors in the dust.
885 notes · View notes
katsukikitten · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Izuku doesn't have many vices, mostly because he doesn't allow himself to indulge in any. Thinking them more as nasty habits or stains on his perfect PR record than anything else. Like headaches he'd rather avoid or didn't seem worth the bashing he'd receive from fans and haters online.
But that didn't mean he never indulged.
Especially with the weight of being the number one hero pressing down onto his broad shoulders, pushing him further into his sulking as he drapes himself over the smooth bar top. Half finished handle of liquor under his scarred palm, swirling the last dredges of the clear liquid inside as he thinks about ordering another.
Izuku was only here at this tiny lively bar in the small forgotten prefecture of Tokyo because Kaminari dragged him here. The electric blonde wasn't sure if Izuku had a girlfriend or not, he knew his occasional hero partner to be secretive about his love life which was the opposite of Kaminari who often advertised just how single he was. Denki dragged the hulking hero because Izuku needed to “live a little” and it was “cuffing season.”
Izuku didn't know what that meant.
Googling it is how he finds himself on the brink of a spiral with his perfectly white teeth sinking into the inside of his lip before his tongue laps at the metallic tang that floods his mouth.
It doesn't stop his teeth from sinking into tender flesh, it doesn't stop him from swallowing down more burning booze or sighing loudly.
He just can't stomach the thought of having to face his mother without a date during the holidays again this year. Don't mistake this concern for self pity nor vanity. Izuku is not the type of man who thinks he deserves to have people fawning at his feet, hell the man often grappled with feeling deserving of his given quirk on a daily basis more often than not.
But the way his mother looks when she opens the door, how her big smile drops the slightest when Izuku shows up and no one is there under his arm or holding his hand. Or awkwardly smiling as they meet his mom and Yagi-san for the first time even though they'd been dating for a good long while.
Izuku is just too busy, he doesn't mean to be, tried to board his PTO to take a long hiatus or two from work so he could dote on his partner.
But nothing was ever good enough.
He couldn't face that look of worry or concern from his mother, not again.
It wasn't for lack of trying on Izuku's part either, blind dates arranged by his mother or friends, even the agency! Dating app after dating app leading to dead ends or lack of intimacy leaving Izuku to feel hollow, desperate, enough to seek out other lonely heroes that wanted nothing more than sex.
Still he took everything seriously, maybe too seriously, and things just never worked out.
Yet the hopeless romantic in him never wavered and he thought he had one last shot at love when the hero agency set up an arrangement for a PR girlfriend to keep his ratings high. Izuku did everything in his power to make it work, to try to fall genuinely and deeply in love with the pretty woman who he shared his apartment with. Taking her on dates to places like the movies or to see the Sakura. Fucking her on his couch, in his car, over his dining room table after pushing away the dinner she made.
But each action only made him feel empty, more so than before. There was no spark between them, at least not on his end and Izuku couldn't stomach the idea of leading her on. Especially not when Izuku saw hearts forming in her eyes from more than just sex.
It ended in a mess when she confessed she loved him while straddling his lap and he went soft inside her. Fat tears threatening to fall that he blinks away before she gets up to slap him, he doesn't feel anything.
She breaks her fingers.
Breeching her contract that Izuku buys out when the agency threatens to sue her, the only time the commission head ever saw Izuku's bright emerald eyes narrow and darken.
He doesn't understand why he can't keep anyone around, he begins to think he is the problem.
That maybe his expectations were too high? Maybe he didn't devote enough time? Or maybe he really truly didn't feel anything when he was with any of the men and women he dated in the past save for one.
He expected love to be like the movies and of course Kaachan called him a dumb ass for it. That romantic sappy shit, movies that Izuku and Katsuki had watched curled together on Izuku's couch, “weren't fucking real.”
Only for the blonde traitor to move in with a woman he knew for less than six months when Katsuki kept telling Izuku it was too soon to move in with him despite them secretly fucking for a year and knowing each other all their lives.
Izuku finished the second half of his bottle.
His phone demands attention, chirping from the pocket of his jeans as Kamianri’s laugh echoes over the confined space. Izuku reads the banner on the illuminated glass, the text is from his mother.
Is it just you this year, honey?
Before a second one comes through.
Yagi is asking so we know to put the leaf in. We don't mind when you bring extra company. Kaachan and his girlfriend were a pleasant surprise last year.
But I'll be more than happy to just see my son.
Guilt floods his system, heavy in his chest that it forces a groan from his throat. Idle hand coming to clampe and squeeze harshly at the nape of his neck. Finger shaped bruises forming under thick digits in the hairline of his undercut, his emerald curls doing little to hide it. As the pain ebbs pleasantly down his spine he thinks to pat down his jeans seeking out the familiar rectangular outline before he slides off of the wobbling stool.
Pushing open the heavy door to the secluded alley with ease, mind sharp and feet steady as he looks around. Alcohol never had much effect on him due to his large stature and even larger metabolism leaving him to drink an obscene amount of booze before he felt a pleasant buzz. Tonight he hadn't had nearly enough to ease his shattered heart.
Jagged emerald eyes cut through the alley before he lets the tension in his shoulders release but not enough he'd be off guard. He remembers Stain and his legacy, he knows society still remembers the hero killer too. Knows that most heroes don't necessarily die in action but when they're most vulnerable. Throats slit while they were asleep, fucking, or stepping out into a dark alley in the middle of the night for a smoke.
The thought does little to soothe the aching need in his throat, to feel the burn that could dissolve the lump that sits uncomfortably behind his Adam's apple. Pulling out the half crushed pack of cigarettes and placing one between his lips. Dark orange lighter flickering to life as he rolls over the steel and flint before he takes a deep breath.
Only to instantly regret it.
Stale smoke clots his lungs and coats his tongue, still the acrid taste doesn't stop him from pulling another drag. Mind wandering far beyond where he stood, willing the smoke to smother his hopeless heart.
“Didn't you have a campaign ad against those?” You purr, watching the bulky man tense as his head snaps up to face you.
Izuku hadn't seen anything and his danger sense didn't go off when he surveyed the alley but it does now. A tingling in the soles of his feet as he looks up at you shrouded in the shadow of the neighboring building on the fire escape a foot or so next to his head. You jump down with ease and lean against the rough brick wall next to him. Close enough your elbows touch.
Watching the giant of a man fumble over the stick in his mouth making a cruel smile form on your own.
“Number one hero smoking, tsk tsk, what if I'm an impressionable young lady?” You giggle and it clings to Izuku's skin more than the stale smoke, he scoffs.
“You act as if you don't have a vice.” He glances down at you from the corner of his eye before tilting his head up to blow the smoke away from you.
“Everyone has a vice Mr Deku.” Brandishing your cherry tootsie pop you seemingly pull from thin air. Making a grand show of pocketing the bright red wrapper before popping it past glossy lips, eyes glued to the hero hiding outside the alley of the no name bar.
You imagined he'd be in uptown places, where the silverware was gold plated and a shot of patron was twenty dollars. Not here with the ripped leather seats held together with faded duct tape and cloudy glasses.
But here he stands in black jeans, a gray graphic tee with black sleeves from an undershirt rolled up past his thick forearms, smoking no less. The only expensive thing on him is his watch, it makes your fingers twitch.
You roll the sucker around in your mouth, letting it clink your teeth as you watch him, a harsh line for a mouth that smiled so brightly on the news this morning.
Did all heroes do this? Look pathetic in dark alleyways smoking overly stale cigarettes hoping no one sees them? He looks down at you with a calculated, cold gaze, if you were any other woman it would send a shiver down your spine. Especially from how it contrasts to his normally bright gemstone eyes now they looked clouded, jaded with unspoken emotion.
You think it serves him right, yet still your clawed hands bring out a pack of unopened cigarettes from the pocket of your oversized jacket tilting them towards the hero.
“Take these. Those have gotta be at least a year old. They don't make the packaging with the small warnings anymore.” You crinkle your nose at him, his normally doe like eyes narrow as they rove over you harshly before he quirks his brow.
It's kinda cute how bitchy he looks. You swat away the thought and he thinks he's bothering you with his smoke.
“I thought you didn't smoke.” He moves the stick further away from you.
“I don't. I lifted them off the electric blonde you came with. He's a terrible flirt you know.” Cat smile forming around the lollipop sick in your mouth, watching Izuku's eyes flash in warning, it makes you giggle, “Gonna arrest me?”
“Stealing is wrong.” He stubs out his half smoked cigarette, it disintegrates against the brick from its age and not the pressure he applies.
“So’s lyin.” A smiling retort as you shake the fresh pack at him, “I'll even pick your lucky.”
He looks down at his old ragged emergency pack with only the lucky looking back up at him. Bent and half broken from the argument he had with Katsuki almost a year ago about how Izuku couldn't stomach just sex anymore.
Looking up at you but before he can accept the offer you're already gently patting the pack against your palm, pulling the golden plastic that acts as a guide to take off the wrap from the box. Picking his lucky at random and flipping it upside down before you pass the pack to him. He sighs and takes the box, looks down at the fresh pack and looks back up at you. Sees your smug smile.
“Thanks. Going to black mail me now?” He decides he should have another since his first one was so awful. Pulling the dark orange lighter from his pocket to start a good ember.
“No, I think I've got enough collateral.” Flaunting his expensive, classy watch on your wrist. Well about mid forearm for you, “Secrets safe with me.”
Instinctually his broad palms slaps his wrist where his watch should be, as if he doesn't believe his eyes. Glancing back up at you again wholly expecting you to be already at the mouth of the alley but you stay close to him. Well within arms reach and step closer to him still.
He blows the smoke up into the sky again, keeps the cigarette on the opposite side of you.
“I've got more expensive ones in my apartment.” He comments it almost comes off flirty until you see how sad his emerald eyes look. Izuku wants to ‘be a man', wants to take you home and fuck the brains out of your pretty head but his heart swells in agony, he sighs out more smoke.
“Is this you trying to take me home? Ooo so heroes do have one night stands!” A teasing nudge to his ribs, he doesn't even budge, just moves the burning stick up higher so the smoke won't stick to you.
“I don't do one night stands.”
“Then why invite me to see your expensive watch collection hmm? Tryin to get me to steal your heart instead?”
“Maybe I am.” His gaze flickers to you again, holding your eyes as his lids are at half mast.
Did anyone even know the number one hero could give fuck me eyes?
“Steal my heart, be my girlfriend.” He looks down at you, sees what he registers as panic, “Just through the holidays.”
You blink up at him for a moment as he studies you. Drinks in how those black skinny jeans cling to your thick legs, how the fishnets do little to keep his thoughts pure and that little lingerie you wore as a top had his dick twitching. Left fist clenching when his eyes look over a man's leather jacket on your broad shoulders.
He thought about all the jackets he owned so he could replace the well worn garment on your shoulders with his own.
“I'll pay you.” Taking a long drag, feeling desperation claw up his throat competing with the burn of nicotine, “Pay you a lot more than what that watch is worth.”
The idea of it makes you laugh loudly, the pretty sound echoing around the alley as you grip onto his forearm for stability. He had to be fucking drunk, there was no way he was asking a theif to be his fake girlfriend, what was this a shojo manga?
But when you look up at him and see his freckled cheeks flush with embarrassment you swallow down the rest of your mirth.
“Oh you're serious.” Pulling the cherry sucker from your mouth, letting your lips pop around it lewdly, Izuku watches with close emerald eyes his mind wandering down places it shouldn't, especially not with a woman he's just met. Still thick digits twitch as he tries not to palm himself roughly.
“What the number one hero can't get a girlfriend?” You deadpan and this time it's his turn to laugh except there isn't any joy in it.
“Ha. No. Haven't you heard? I'm too much of a ‘fucking nerd.’ Guess Kaachan was right.” He stubs out his cigarette before pocketing the butt since there was no tray in the back alley.
His admission gives you pause, pressing the cherry confection back on your tongue roughly before you pull it into your mouth taking it from manicured nails. Pushing the sucker to poke out your cheek making Izuku's long lashes flutter.
“Kaachan?’ You giggle, looking up as you move the sucker from one side of your mouth to the other with your tongue. Hard candy clacking against your teeth, “You mean Katsuki? That's Dynamight’s given name right?”
Shit shit shit! He hadn't meant to call him that! How did you figure it out so quickly!
“Oh! Oh please don't say anything!” He looks mortified and you watch his cheeks turn as red as your tongue.
“Don't worry Zuzu. Your secret is safe with me.” Crunching down on the last thin layer before the taste of chocolate coats your tongue swallowing the Tootsie roll and Izuku watches your Adam's apple bob while his mind swirls with dirty thoughts.
Thoughts so dirty he almost misses you add,
“Gonna need bigger pay to keep quiet.” Nails tapping his watch, “Sides can't say I'll be a good girlfriend. I hate everything after Halloween. My birthday included.”
“What? Everyone loves the holidays!” He's shocked you've said that and you shake your head.
“No, everyone with good or whole families love the holidays.” You correct and he looks down at you with a frown. Already you pick up on a habit of his, teeth worrying the inside of his lip as he thinks, “I currently have neither.”
“Oh I'm-”
“Don't. I don't need the mighty hero’s pity.” You scoff, sounding a little jaded before you fix your face, turning to a joke as another smile pulls at your pretty lips, “Not when I can take his money instead.”
“Cute.” He scoffs sarcastically, still he can't deny the flutter in his stomach.
“You're kinda bitchy ya know that?” You smile, “The media makes you out to be Prince Charming.”
“I don't look like Prince Charming?” He gestures to himself and you laugh loudly again. He can't help the heat that creeps up his throat.
“Bet you fuck like Prince Charming too. All vanilla and boring.” Struggling to stifle yet another giggle.
“If you accept the offer to be my girlfriend you can find out if that's true or not.” Quickly his demeanor changes, emerald eyes darkening as they slowly drag up and down your body with a sinful gaze. The sight of him looking down his nose at you makes your stomach clench. You shouldn't be considering his offer now from one intense gaze. A hero and a morally gray person never worked out and it was only a matter of time before your thievery caught up with. You really shouldn't but you know what they say.
Curiosity killed the cat
“Fine. I'll be your little girlfriend til new years. When do we start?”
“Tonight.” He leans close letting his large hand slide down your forearm to your wrist til his fingers are lacing with yours, “It's so late, I really should get you home, shouldn't I baby?”
Emerald eyes sparkling with promise that he planned to devour you whole the second the two of you stepped foot into his penthouse apartment.
“Yes, you should. It is so very late."
Tumblr media
“Oh my god IZUKUUUUU fuck fuck fuck!” You scream as you grind onto his handsome face, cumming on his skilled tongue for the umpteenth time in the half an hour you've been in his apartment. Mauve nails around his throat as you choke him slightly, shamelessly riding his face to prolong your high, not that he would dare interrupt it. Groaning loudly under you as he slowly yanks at his fat long cock that leaks with pre. Hungry eyes watching him as you let out another breathy moan.
“Fuck and you've never had a girlfriend before?” he laughs in your cunt at your question. Strong hands coming to lift you off his face with ease so you can hear him better.
“I know I said I was a nerd but I never said I was a virgin.” Before he roughly adjusts you back on his cute freckled face, slurping your clit roughly as mock punishment for interrupting him. Your eyes cross and your thighs squeeze his head.
“Fuck.” You whine and he's rewarded with more of your slick as you cum again, Izuku already decided that he loves how you whine curses for him. Feels you start to slump from the pleasure as your body melts, offering you his hand to support you better as you grind into his face before you can't anymore.
Before this insatiable man lifts you with ease, flipping you onto your back when the needle of the record player hits the center of the vinyl. Pressing you into the dark couch with his pelvis as he wets his cock by grinding into your sticky folds, making you gasp out like he wants before he's gently cradling your throat, slipping his tongue into your open mouth as he groans.
“We taste so good together.” He growls, the sound makes you see stars, especially as his fat cock head nudges against your abused clit. Catching your fluttering entrance and it makes you both shudder before he angles himself properly. Slowly sinking in and watching your face for any signs of pain or displeasure. Watching your eyes roll with each passing moment before he rested against you. Giving slow, rough thrusts that grind down into your clit that have your hands shaking at his back as claws struggle to find purchase in his skin.
“And you're telling me these girls didn't stay for the dick either? Fuck Izuku!!!!” Arching your back, if you weren't careful you'd become addicted to him, your question makes him hide his face into your throat.
“Guess sex isn't enough.” He mumbles against your tacky skin.
“That or you're not telling me something.” You gasp at the end, when he keeps hitting that spot and makes you cum each time. Makes a deep tension in you dissipate until you feel as if you're floating, you wouldn't be able to speak much longer.
He thinks you'll pull away but instead you thread your fingers into his sweaty curls to bring his face to yours. To look deep into his eyes even if you struggle before you seal your lips with his. Letting your tongue slide over his until you moan his name into his mouth.
“Oh fuck Izuku, you have to cum in me now. Fuck fuck you're throbbing.” Your cunt clamps down on him at the thought of his warm seed spilling into your milking cunt. He pants over you, still keeping that steady slow roll of his hips but how you squeeze him makes him insane. Makes his hips finally speed up before his pace turns sloppy.
His moans turning into loud grunts as he fucks you with enough vigor the legs of the couch scrape against the expensive hardwoods until he's cupping your throat again but never squeezes. Looking down at you and you don't dare look away as you watch his long lashes flutter, the sight makes the coil in your stomach snap again. Feel him paint your cunt in pearly strings of white before he slowly lowers himself on shaking arms, giving your throat a tender squeeze before he rests his head in the crook of your throat, he hadn't intended for the two of you to fuck already. Hell he didn't even mean to rip off your jeans and set you on his face so he could show you that he really wasn't boring.
And he sure as fuck didn't meant to fill up your pretty cunt with his spend.
“What are you doing to me?” He pants playfully, kissing at your thudding pulse point.
“Stealing your heart, remember?” A breathless giggle as the two of you lie like that until his cock begins to soften. He sighs, slowly gets to his feet before he's lifting you into his arms, it makes your cheeks warm, especially when you look down at the soaked fabric of the sofa.
“I think we ruined your couch.” He laughs at your joke.
“Ts fine, the covers are machine washable.” He nudges his nose into your cheek and you giggle before he's setting you on the edge of the tub as he starts the shower for you.
“Here's how to adjust the water temp if you need it hotter. Most women love it scalding.” He takes a step back, moving to grab for a fresh towel for you. You try not to let your heart sink when you realize he isn't going to join you.
“Oh a real casanova huh?” He rolls his eyes at your playful jab before he steps into his bedroom to give you privacy for the time being. Fishing out a T-shirt and clean boxers for both himself and you to sleep in. Laying yours out on the bed as he smells his body wash float from under the snowy glass door. It makes him smile as he thinks of how you'll smell like him until he takes you to gather your things from your place tomorrow, that or he'll buy you whatever you want or need.
For now he'll relish the idea that you, his fake girlfriend, gets to smell like him, your fake boyfriend.
After awhile you come into the room, clean and pristine, movement catching Izuku's eye of course. When you meet his eyes you smile, give a little twirl.
“It's Chanel.” Letting your fingers adjust the hem of the regular cotton towel and Izuku laughs.
“Is it? Lemme see.” He rises, holds your hand to twirl you again as he looks down at you with a smile, “Perfect fit.”
“Thank you.” You giggle again, feeling shy for the first time under his heavy gaze. Watching the corner of his lips tilt upward before he points out the clothes he left out for you and slips into the bathroom. Surprisingly you don't hear the lock click to the door, Izuku was either far too trusting or he truly did not see you as a threat to his life.
Quick to change into the oversized, old shirt and boxers before you take this opportunity to explore his penthouse now that the six foot four man wasn't pressing himself up against you.
Tiptoeing out of his room even if you knew you didn't need to, whetting your curiosity first with the living room that was adorned with ceiling to floor windows to the left when you first came in. Your breath fogging the window as you look over the cityscape. A snaking inky black cuts through the bright lights, the wide river bed reflecting the lights back in swirling currents giving the scene the stars the sky lacks.
Even this late at night the prefecture is teaming with life, you wonder if it's exhausting for him. To sonder over the lives that carry out beneath his feet. If he wonders if he can save them all.
If he knows he can't.
The needle of the record player bumps against the middle of the vinyl again pulling you from your thoughts.
“Oh.” You squeak, tiptoeing to the old thing and gently lifting the arm. Finding the album cover and slipping the vinyl in with ease before shutting off the player. Eyes quick to find the empty spot on the wall to where the album goes.
Not on the shelves under the player, no those were jam-packed with composition notebooks unlabeled making your curious fingers twitch. The album belongs up on the wall with the rest of them that he organized beautifully. Each piece placed perfectly to compliment each piece of art so that it could be viewed individually or if you stood back you could see it as something whole.
Standing on tiptoes to return its album art facing forward. Taking a step or two back to appreciate it before the notebooks whisper to you.
Slipping one from the shelves, it's filled margin to margin with text about the albums. The notations were meticulously detailed reminding you of placards at museums or art exhibits. Finding the corresponding piece, staring up at the art before your eyes flicker down to the notes.
…when the music swells it squeezes my heart, the lyrics were chosen carefully bringing tears to my eyes. It's haunting how relatable it is to wonder if I'll get a perfect love and if I do that I'm deserving….
You swallow thickly, know you'll get swallowed up by this notebook that you didn't have the time to dissect, especially not with the limited amount of time you had. It felt akin to a diary, something you shouldn't be reading. Normally that wouldn't discourage you, wouldn't have your fingers slowly shutting the book. Normally you'd devour as much as you could with an excuse on why you weren't where you were supposed to be on the tip of your tongue.
For now you return it to the shelf.
Feet carrying you across the cool hardwood to the open concept kitchen that over looks the living room with the album art, expensive couch and the TV. The large waterfall island made of marble, clean and smooth save for a few scattered pieces of Izuku's life he hadn't yet tidied away like the rest of the apartment.
Another notebook, a theme it seems, lying open. A sketch of a hero on the left with text surrounding them before paragraphs of text and few bullet points to the page on the right again in Izuku's slightly messy handwriting. As if his hand cannot keep up with his brain.
Snow Fall - similar to Shouto’s ice quirk…
“Beloved?” Izuku's voice calls gently from down the hall, you tear your eyes away from the notebook and quickly open a few cabinets before you find a glass and fill it from the tap.
“M coming! Just needed water.” Heading back to huge bedroom, smiling devilishly when you find Izuku.
Seeing his body better in the light of the bedroom. Scarred, thick with muscle and soft freckles kissing almost every inch of his skin. The tan spots giving extra attention to his Adonis belt that leads to his fat cock. It makes your cunt throb.
You set the AllMight collectable glass down onto the bedside table, not noticing the fanboy item until you see his flushed cheeks, following his eyes to the PLUS ULTRA cup. The source of his embarrassment makes you giggle again.
“It's cute.” You reassure, jumping on top of the deep viridian duvet, cocking your hand on your hip and pulling your shirt up to show a little skin.
“When's the last time you fucked on this great big bed?” He doesn't answer you right away, basil eyes looking at you before they begin to look through you.
A burning ember gaze sears his memory, he closes his eyes as if that would stop the images from demanding every last shred of his attention..
“Been awhile.” He finally admits, dropping his towel unashamed as he steps into his black boxer briefs. They cup his sac and softened cock nicely, clinging to his thick thighs that have you salivating. The way he ate pussy and fucked was almost good enough to replace the cold hard cash he promised to pay, almost.
That distant look in his eyes made you wonder if there was someone else that held him back from his romantic endeavors.
“Shall we christen this great big bed too then?” A playful tease as you pull up the fabric of his shirt to expose your breasts. He loved the sight, loved how you looked in his clothes, in his bed, underneath him as his emerald pendant swings in your face.
His cock twitches, a tick in his jaw before he's clasping his hands in restraint. Wringing his fingers as he thinks of the last time he fucked in that bed.
He feels the ghost of sharp canines at the nape of his neck, his hand automatically moves to brush over the area. His curls fall over his eyes and he sighs deeply.
“No. I think you should sleep.” He smiles softly, it doesn't reach his eyes and you don't push, “We've got a big day tomorrow. Got to get your stuff and -”
“I don't have a lot of stuff. My outfit was the most of it.”
“You don't have any other clothes?”
“Maybe another pair of pants, some underwear for sure but this is mostly it. So we have time.” You purr, crawling down the bed before you flop onto your stomach. Arching your back purposefully, out stretching your fingers to play with his.
“Then it will be even longer. We'll have to get you an outfit for the party.” He threads his fingers with yours before you let go when his words register. Sitting straight up.
“Party?”
“Yes, baby doll, party. We've got several to go to. Maybe a gala too. Then there's the agency Christmas party oh and…” He bites at his lip as he rest his chin on scarred digits beginning to go off on a tangent as he thinks of all the invitations stuffed in the top desk drawer of his office.
“A gala?!” Oh fuck oh fuck this was a bad idea. When he said girlfriend through the holidays you thought fucking and a private date or two. Not being surrounded by pro heroes you ran from on the daily, identity concealed with a mask.
Not only would you be in the literal lion’s den but you really weren't the most classy type of bitch. You've never really been invited to any big event let alone one that was fucking televised. At least not events you didn't crash to slide priceless paintings off the walls or expensive jewelry off the wrists of the one percent. At least then you'd have your mask to hide behind, the ability to blend into the crowd but now you'd be hanging off the arm of the number one hero.
You'd have to act like a proper lady who definitely didn't crash in vacation homes or half lived in apartments of the rich and the famous while they stayed in their main mansions until they got tired of the same old four walls.
Each gig you promised that this would be your last and each time you found yourself with a new piece of jewelry made from dazzling gems of deconstructed designer pieces hungry for the next heist.
Art and jewelry weren't the only things you've stolen, information and secrets often sold for a lot more but Izuku, pro hero Deku, didn't need to know you had a stash house, more like stash attic, in some rundown home in Kamakura you'd gotten for a steal.
His thighs bump up against the edge of the bed, cupping your cheeks for a moment, “You look…worried.”
“I am worried. Some of these events are televised. Are you sure you want me? I'm not exactly Yaoyorozu or Kendo."
“I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't.” He comes down to press his lips to your forehead. It makes your stomach flutter, it shouldn't, “Besides those will be the easiest ones. The hard ones are the more personal settings.”
He leans back, takes his hands from your face as he heads towards the lights, “I won't let anything happen to you.”
He flicks off the lights, stands by the door for a moment before he goes to shut it.
“You're really going to sleep on the couch? I thought we had to make this realistic.” A final attempt to get him to at least come and enjoy his luxury bed. It was big enough that you doubted the two of you would even touch by accident in the middle of the night. If he was so afraid of intimacy, which was odd, he seemed more the time to fall in love if he fucked. Especially when he did romantic shit like fuck you to music and whisper some of the lyrics in your ear.
You pat his side with sharp clawed fingers, “Come on boyfriend.”
He can't remember the last time he slept in his bed, changing and washing the sheets more out of habit than necessity and as he tries to recall he thinks it's been over a year.
He looks at you for a long, long time, you curled up in his expensive sheets and comforter as you pat the spot beside you patiently but he sighs.
“Maybe another time. Good night sugar.”
“Good night Zuzu bear.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
Note
Hi!! I really love your writting🥰 i would like to request for the self-aware au, Reader hiding behind them after being chased by some particularly pushy NPCs with Rook, Trey, and Jack please❤️
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, description of violence, blood, obsession, stalking
Trey Clover/Jack Howl/Rook Hunt-Hiding behind them
Tumblr media
Ah, what a nice day. In fact, it is perfect for trying out that recipe with that dough that needed to rest for a while
Or rather, that was his plan for the day until he suddenly heard two pairs of footsteps rushing into the dorm kitchen
And no, it was not the kind of footsteps that spoke of joy like the ones of his siblings did. from time to time, it sounded panicked
Just a second later you entered the kitchen with an octavinelle student, the latter one trying to catch up to you
Before the baker could figure out what was going on, you were suddenly behind him, using his body as a shield
Oh… oh!
Was this guy harassing you?
How dare he? How dare-
Deep breaths. Very deep breaths - would be something he would have said to himself if he wasn't this angry
By some miracle, he was able to hold himself together
He was this close to loose his reputation as "that nice hat wearing baker"
A strict look towards the student and you were finally alone with him
For you the whole thing was over but for that student?
Suddenly the poor lad fell ill, claiming that he had stomach problems
Heck, he couldn't even keep his food down
Such a shame... Trey surely hoped he would survive
Who else could he secretly gift those cakes? You? Oh no... It's just that he experiments with some new recipes...
Ignore that bottle in the cupboard
Tumblr media
Jack is someone who keeps his friends very close and is not afraid to stand up for them
Only that he saw you as someone more precious than a friend
So when he saw you running away from a student and slipping behind him he saw the world just a tiny bit tinted red
The young wolf beastman isn't someone who uses violence just because he can do or feel like using it
(Honestly, at this point he is more like your little dog than some fearsome wolf)
Just because he didn't turn the student into very biological and mushy fertiliser for the flowers then and there doesn't mean he was calm though
Grabbing the not so nice company of yours, he told you to not worry and leave your little problem to him
Ah yes, Jack Howl, that kind acquaintance of yours
How nice of him
But you know, there are also tales about wolves acting as if they are kind just to devour you
Of course Jack didn't do that
Does not mean that things went as peaceful as you thought they did after you left
Jack usually keeps his instincts under control but on that evening he had to cut his nails very short and scrub his hands
Anyone would be horrified after the sensation of calcium breaking under their hand, splintering like old, dried out wood under a saw
He should feel guilty but... it was hard to do so
Which brings us back to a sink being used by a certain beastman
Geez, some things are so hard to get off of skin once it dries, wouldn't you agree?
Tumblr media
First of all, it's a wonder the hunter wasn't watching you from a tree (or something like that... who knew bushes could walk in this world)
If he had he would have immediately revealed himself by slithering in between you and that oh so foolish first year
But alas, apparently a miracle happened and this time it was you seeking out him
When Rook heart the certain sound of your shoes hitting the ground he was swivelling around, a poem about his devotion towards you already on his tongue...
And them you hid behind his arm curtains (you know, their dorm uniforms sleves)
Did hiw beloved Overseer, perfection and liberatir in person finally choose him as their most favorite- no? Ok that's cool too
If this was any other situation he would have started a speech in his wannabe French, stating how short he was by your rejection
But right now he had to deal with your little stalker (don't try to act all innocent, Rook, you did the same many more times than they ever could without being noticed)
Trying to calm you down the hunter brought you to Pomfiore
And nothing weir happened
No I am not joking, Rook was his usual normal self (if we want to call at best flirtatious remarks and at worst frantic devoted ramblings normal)
From then on you were much closer to the hunter
Especially after a body was found
And oh, how grateful Rook was for not having the time to get rid of the body on that day
Of course, he had noticed how ce fou followed you two to the dorm
How trusting you were when he told you that he wanted to get you two something to drink...
And there the parasite still was, lingering around the entrance of his dorm
The only regret Rook had was finishing his job so quickly
It was always such a bore whenever his prey wouldn't squirm
Well, at least you were now close to him
Just be careful, the hunter was also back then the one bringing her highness a false heart. Who knows how much he would lie to get you all to himself?
Uh and… maybe don't open that box he has in his room in a cooler. He told you he keeps some sort of trophy in there and I think that is all we need to know
982 notes · View notes
mushies-stories · 9 months
Text
Naruto boys
The first time cockwarming them
Naruto, Shikamaru, Gaara, Kankuro X GNReader
Warnings: SMUT 18+! cock waming, pet names, no use of Y/N
The first time Cock warming them
SMUT BELOW THE CUT
Naruto Uzumaki: sweet and loving S/O
Naruto wouldn't have thought of the idea himself but you, after a night out with some friends and while gossiping, you were introduced to a new idea. So a few nights later while naruto was late coming home you went to seek him out, not wanting to fall asleep without him.
You walked into his office late at night, the room lit only by the desk lamp. He was hunched over his paperwork, eyes tired but face smoothing when he sees it's you. He gives you an apologetic look as you approach his chair. “Sorry sweety, late night. I promise I'll be home soon.” he said.
You shook your head and smiled sweetly, you slid your pants and underwear down and kicked them aside. You brought a leg to slide across his lap so you could straddle him. “No need, ill by just a second.” you as you undid his pants and slid your hand into his boxers and slowly started to pump his cock tell you felt it begin to harden.
His body tensed as he watched you. “Baby, wait a minute I gotta finish these papers.” he said. 
You leaned down and kissed his jaw. “I know.” you said, finally pulling him out so his cock could stand erect. You adjust to you hovering over him with the tip pressed against your entrance and slowly sank down. 
You both let out  gaspy moans as he filled your tight hole. When his cock was fully nestled in you he let out a shaky breath. “So tight, how am I supposed to focus?” he chuckled, feeling your walls flutter around him. 
You yawned and leaned into his chest. Closing your eyes you snuggle into him. “I'll relax in a moment.” you said with content sigh. “Take your time.” you whispered, already dozing off into his warm heat surrounding you. 
He smiled down at you as you were breathing steadily and you finally relaxed around him. In all honesty it took him longer to get his work done, having to take a few breaks to just feel you pulse around him. You got a nice nap in until he was finally done, and finally ready to fuck you properly.
Shikamaru Nara: bratty and needy S/O
He was trying to nap, laying on back with one arm behind his head and the other resting on his stomach when you creeped into the room. You hadn't gotten to spend much time together lately and you were starting to feel lonely. He heard you approaching and opened one eye to look up at you as you stood above him. “Shikamaru, you've been busy all week.” you said with a pout. 
He hummed and closed his eyes again. “Just a little nap.” He said.
You huffed and went to straddle his lap, he didn't even react. You leaned over his body, pressing yourself against him and littering gentle kisses to his neck and jawline. He sighs and opens his eyes, narrowing them down at you. “Cant even wait thirty minutes?” he said with a yawn. 
You shook your head and sucked the skin below his ear while grinding down against his now semi-hard cock. “I’ve been waiting, I cant anymore Shika.” you whined. 
He let out a soft sigh and rolled his eyes. “Aright alright, take your pants off brat.” he said.
You complied and stood to take your pants and underwear off while Shikamaru shimmed his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. You smiled and went back to stadling him, looking down at him with a happy smile. He chuckled and nodded his head once. “Go on.” He said.
You wasted no time in lining up with your entrance and sliding the tip in with a content sigh. Your eyes closed as you slowly sank down on him. Before you could bring yourself back up him his hands were on your hips, slamming you down so his cock was filling you completely. “Shika!” you whined at the sudden harsh movement. 
He just smirked and brought a hand up to the back of your neck and pulled you down to lay your head on his chest. “Nap first, then ill fuck you how you want.” he stated, holding you firm and close. Both hands came to wrap around your back as you sank into him with a drafted grumble. 
He might be a brat himself, but he kept his word and when he woke to find you fast sleep on his chest he couldn't help but hold you sweety against him as his cock slowly started to fuck you awake. 
Gaara: sweet and loving S/O
It was early, much earlier than anyone else would be awake and gaara was sitting in his office, head leaned back and eyes closed. He looked tired and really you couldn't tell if he ever even came to bed since he had a tendency to sneak in late, normally after you fell asleep.
He didn’t notice you standing in the doorway until he heard the click of it shutting and saw you walking over to him with a small smile and tired eyes. “Been here all night?” you ask, coming to stand next to his chair and immediately he pulls you between his legs and hugs your waist so his face is hidden in the fabric of your shirt. 
He nods. “There was just so much paperwork and planning.” he mumbles against you. 
Your hands rake through his hair. “Maybe… I can help you alleviate some stress while you finish up?” you offered, voice hushed and a little uncertain. Gaara was still tricky when it came to intimacy and you didn't want to push him. So you thought you'd at least offer. He looked up at you, waiting to hear what you had to offer. “Sit back for a moment, okay?” you said and he complied, leaning back so you had room to undress your lower half. 
“Darling…” it almost sounded like a warning but even he didn't seem sure of it. You continued and moved to grab the waistband of his pants. You looked up at him with reassuring eyes and he shifted so you could guide his cock free. A small huff ame from him when you sat back in his lap and pushed the tip to your tight hole. “I have work my love.” he stated, holding your hips still above his already hard cock.
You smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek. “I know, let me help?” you said, trying your best at puppy eyes. He chuckled softly and allowed you to sink down on him. He closed his eyes briefly as he felt his cock sink into your tight hole but held his sounds in while you let out breath gasps when you felt he was fully in. Once you were comfortable in his lap you brought your arms up to wrap around his shoulders and leaned into him. “I'll be right here waiting for you to be done.” you said, kissing the side of his neck. 
You waited so patiently for him to finish his work and when he was finally done he made sure to thank you. 
Kankuro: sweet and needy S/O
He was working on a puppet late at night, repairing it in time for a mission coming up. You had woken in the middle of the night feeling particularly needy only to find your bed empty and your heart feeling similar. your fingers grasped for Kankuro but found nothing. You knew where he probably was and rushed down the stairs to his workshop. All you wore was his shirt and a pair of underwear as you bare feet hit the cold ground.
His head snapped up when he heard the door creek open. You stood peering your head to see where he was. you looked so sweet and tired and his heart leaped when you finally followed the dim light to his work space in the corner of the room and your eyes finally found him. “It's late.” He said. 
You smiled sheepishly and stepped into the room and closed the door behind you. You padded over to stand opposite him on the other side of his work table where puppet pisces and bits were all strung about. “I know, I just… I wanted to see you.” you practically whispered. 
The faint blush creeping on your cheeks told him you wanted something more than just to see him. He smiled sweetly and set the part he was working on down. “That so sweetheart? You just wanted to see me in the middle of the night?” 
You looked away for a moment before looking back to Kankuro. You knew that wasn't the only reason but you didn't want to bother him while he was working. “Mhhmm” you hummed. 
He nodded with a small smirk. “Would you like to help me while I work baby?” he asked.
Your eyes gleamed at his words. “Can i?” 
He smiled and leaned back. Your eyes followed his movement as he slid a hand down the front of his pants and started to pump his cock as he looked at you with soft eyes. “Take those off and come here?” he asked, motioning to your pants with his free hand.
He freed his cock as he watched you discard your pants and underwear and came around to stand between his legs. He guided your hips with both hands to straddle his thighs while his cock pushed into your little hole. You whimpered softly into his neck while you clung to his chest. “sshh, relax for me.” he soothed, finally bottoming out in you. “Now, you keep me nice and warm while I work okay?” he said, picking his part and tools back up. 
You let out a soft sigh and nuzzle yourself into him, perfectly content and stuffed.
2K notes · View notes
mariasont · 4 days
Text
Tie a Tie - S.R
Tumblr media
a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie
masterlist
₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader
summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie
warnings: cuties being cute!
wc: 1.2k
"How do you tie a tie?" 
The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.
Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.
You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.
He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look. 
"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.
"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"
His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--" 
The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."
He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you. 
"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."
"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents. 
It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"
His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.
Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.
"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."
He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.
"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.
"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."
His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over. 
You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"
"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."
With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"
The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.
"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe. 
The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.
"Sorry, I have to take this."
"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."
--
Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.
There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.
"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.
A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.
"Reid, what's this about a tie?" 
Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.
"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."
You simply beamed at him.
"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."
He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."
Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.
"Well, it's all thanks to you."
Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle
As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.
Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest. 
He decided this was his new lucky tie. 
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
818 notes · View notes
kaciidubs · 7 months
Note
for the LOVE of me… i cannot stop thinking about polyOT8! skz x fem reader where they have a bulge kink 🤭 Lee know and Reader were caught on the sofa whilst the others were finishing up at jyp and then it hit the boys.. there was a visible bulge in your abdomen where minho was BURRIED inside of you (you were basically fucking like rabbits and the boys kinda joined in afterwards) 😽🫶🏻
Darling, OT8 x Reader is my bread and butter, I shit you not - and pair it with exhibitionism/voyeurism? You're out to kill me, I'm convinced.
-
You were never more grateful for owning so many throw blankets, or else you'd be the main reason why the couch cleaning market skyrocketed.
"M-Minho! Fuck, right there!"
Your hands twisted into the soft cotton, knuckles turning white as your body rocked against the covered cushions.
Above you hovered one of your eight boyfriends, face glistening with sweat and black hair messily swept back - his annoyance with it getting in his face was palpable the minute you two started your little fuck-fest.
His face lit up an a maniacal grin, tongue poking out to lick at the corner of his lips, "Right there? Tch, you're saying that as if I don't already know where all your spots are - such a bold little kitten." A breathless chuckle escaped from him as he hiked your right leg higher on his chest, keeping your left straddled between his own muscular thighs. "Since you think I don't know what I'm doing, maybe I shouldn't let you come again, hm?"
Your pussy clenched at the prospect, mind reeling at the thought of being left dry after so, so many highs. "No! Please, please don't, I'll-"
"You'll what?" He challenged, dark eyes sparkling with mischief, "You'll go crazy without having a cock to keep you full? You'll seek out our other partners and beg them to finish what you started?"
Your eyes rolled, body writhing as much as it could in his vice grip, keeping you pinned and open for anyone to see - for anyone to observe the way you were diminished to nothing but a hole for him to use.
"Finish what she started, huh?"
The new voice brought you back to yourself, your gaze focusing on Changbin walking into the living room with Seungmin and Jeongin in hot pursuit. Soon, the space was filled with each of your significant others, crowding around the couch where Minho was - still - driving into you as if nothing had changed.
"You got him all riled up again, huh, princess?" Chris cooed, amusement evident on his face.
"Princess?" Minho scoffed, hooking your leg into the crook of his arm and using his thumb to rub tight circles around your swollen clit, "She's been a brat - thinks what she says goes. I wonder why."
Before either one of them could comment, Hyunjin hissed out a short breath, "Fuck, look at her." To which Felix and Han followed up with a choked gasp of their own. "Holy shit."
Even through your delirium, you could see that his eyes weren't focused on your face - no, they were currently trained on where you and Minho were connected, and it didn't click until you snaked a hand down to your abdomen to feel a difference.
Fucking hell.
On each rough inward thrust, you could feel the shape of Minho's dick bulge against your abdomen and press against the lower part of your stomach.
"Noona, your hand," Jeongin whined, coaxing you into moving your hand back to it's previous position with a sobbed moan.
"Min- Min- I'm gonna-"
"Come for me," he gritted, rutting his hips against yours until your body shook, coming with a sound you could only hope was an attractive moan to say the least.
It took some time for you to come back to your senses, and when you did you were met with the guys in various stages of undress - a new wave of heavy lust dampening the atmosphere.
Blinking up at the second eldest, your eyebrows furrowed, "Min?"
Chuckling softly, he nodded knowingly at your tone, "I finished too, kitten - now, how about we let the others have a go, hm?"
[unedited]
1K notes · View notes
eddiemunsons80sbaby · 11 months
Text
Ride the Lightning
Pairing: EddiexFemReader
Request: I've read a lot of eddie fics, but I've never read a "sit on my face" fic. If you could write something about that, that would be great.😅
18+ Only
Tumblr media
"Sit on my face."
"Wh...what?" you mumbled, struggling to focus, your mind in a post orgasm haze after Eddie had worked your pussy with his fingers like a goddamn maestro until you were seeing stars. Your muscles were still trembling, tiny ripples underneath your skin.
"You're my princess," he mused, lying back, that mane of hair covering the pillow. He ran the palm of his hand over is face. "And this is your throne. So be a good girl and sit on my face."
Was he serious? Of course he was. Eddie never said anything he didn't mean. You were a bit hesitant, wondering if you would smother him, but you trusted Eddie. He'd opened you up to a lot of new things when it came to sex and you had yet to be disappointed.
"I'm waiting, sweetheart," he sang, raising his head, eyebrows lifted. "Why isn't that beautiful pussy on my face yet?"
"Uh...okay..." you agreed, crawling up his body. You placed one knee on either side of his head, hands gripping the headboard in an attempt to keep yourself from covering his nose and mouth. You had no idea how to do this but you didn't want to kill him.
"Princess, if you're going to sit on my face, then fucking sit and ride it. None of this hanging in mid-air bullshit. I'm not gonna suffocate, I promise. And if I do, well going out with my face buried between these thighs sounds pretty damn perfect."
Fingers dug into your flesh, dragging your hips down so you were firmly on top of him. You tensed, wondering if he could breathe, but then his tongue was teasing your entrance, his nose running over your clit and you groaned, the sound deep and long, eyes fluttering shut.
Your fingers gripped the headboard for dear life as his tongue entered you. And his nose, fuck, that nose, it rolled over your clit again and again. Your hips rolled with it, seeking out what you needed and he rumbled, a sound of appreciation beneath you, that rumble rolling through your body, sending tremors of pleasure straight where you needed them.
"That's my girl. Ride my face, princess. Take what you need," he told you, nose still nuzzling against your sensitive bud. "Fucking smother me with this pussy. I can take it."
"Fuck..." you groaned, rocking your hips over him. Eddie had his tongue out and you rolled across it, from entrance to clit and back again. His nose and tongue, the combination of the two, were sending your pleasure center into overdrive.
You keened, back arching and felt Eddie groan, only spurring you on more. Your hips rotated, swirling his nose around your clit in circles. Following your lead, Eddie's tongue slid inside you again, fucking you long and slow. His hands gripped your ass, not controlling your movements, just moving with you.
"Eddie...fuck yes..." you gasped, your stomach coiling tightly as your body let you know you were close. You removed one hand from the headboard, tangling it in his hair, gripping hard, pulling it away from the scalp and he growled, fingertips digging into flesh so hard you knew you would have marks and that only made this that much fucking hotter.
Eddie loved to talk during sex. He loved to give commands, to give praise, to ask you how you felt. He couldn't do any of that with your pussy currently gagging him and it gave you a sense of control you'd never felt before. It was such a goddamn turn on. You were usually the quiet one, the one who flushed when he'd ask you to talk dirty. You never took control but right now, you were thinking you could get used to this.
"Shit, baby. I'm so close," you breathed, driving yourself against his face harder and faster, chasing the high you knew was just beyond your reach. His hands slid along your stomach, up to cup your breasts, taking a nipple in each one and teasing it, rolling it through his fingers and that was it. "Fuck!" You screamed, back arching, your body shook once, twice, three times as you rode the waves of release.
Whimpering softly, your body relaxed, feeling like one of those inflatable air dancers at the car dealerships after all the air is let out. Eddie nipped playfully at your thigh, eliciting a squeak from you as he slid his hands under you, helping you to lie down next to him.
"You did so good, beautiful girl," he praised, running the back of his hand along your cheek, his rings cool and pleasant on your fevered flesh. "It was so fucking hot watching you use me like your little toy. Did you love that? It definitely sounded like you did."
You nodded, struggling to find words. They were like dry sand, solid and there but unable to form into anything. If you tried, it all just sifted away back into a pile on the ground.
"Mmm...my princess looks spent," Eddie mused, his hands taking your arm, lips trailing over flesh, tongue swirling in the crook of your elbow, before teeth were nibbling at your collarbone. And already, your body was humming for him again even as your brain was telling you that you needed sleep. "But I think you've got more in you because, baby, I'm not done with you yet."
2K notes · View notes