#i seem to have inhaled it only a week ago | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soaps-mohawk · 2 months

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise.

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes.

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom.

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine.

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past.

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface.

Even he can’t protect you from this.

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing.

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem.

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry.

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one.

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep.

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness.

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned.

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?”

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.”

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief.

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades.

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.”

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.”

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.”

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake.

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it.

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what.

You might never get to know.

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep.

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent.

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you.

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed.

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons.

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.”

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any.

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.”

You can only imagine how that went.

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously.

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door.

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own.

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.”

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between.

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..”

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you.

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do.

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does.

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

“You're tired.”

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright.

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again?

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response.

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say.

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger.

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well.

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask.

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own.

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago.

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.”

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position.

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over.

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.”

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run.

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him.

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious.

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.”

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing?

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good.

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good?

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil.

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head.

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady.

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.”

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired.

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.”

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch.

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too.

All he's waiting on is you saying the word.

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something.

The thought makes you want to cry.

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump.

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?”

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book.

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being.

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face.

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal.

You need to rectify this, and fast.

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety.

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory.

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door.

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?”

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.”

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back.

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.”

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line.

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news.

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?”

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you.

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes.

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.”

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin.

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers.

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours.

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.”

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver.

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it.

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip.

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look.

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room.

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly.

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.”

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him.

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal.

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved.

Well, you suppose he is.

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much.

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you.

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh.

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg.

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt.

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric.

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him.

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?”

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you.

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely.

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread.

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you.

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans.

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets.

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.”

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation.

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you.

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips.

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage.

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you.

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position.

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk.

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers.

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth.

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin.

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday.

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.”

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs.

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand.

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm.

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips.

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other.

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length.

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his.

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.”

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position.

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck.

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat.

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life.

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.”

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again.

You’re in for a long night.

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph

#call of duty #call of duty fic #x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gax x reader

2K notes · View notes

tidetfs · 2 months

Text

"Ugh, bro, pleeeeease?"

Max looked at me with those dopey blue eyes of his, staring dully through me and appearing to lack any kind of intelligence or perception.

"I told you, I have a very important club interview," I replied. "This could determine if I can network into a good job after college!" stressing the importance of a job, something my stoner roommate never seemed to understand.

"Just one hit, man, come on! You gotta stop worrying about that stuff and just chill out!" he replied, stretching his muscular arms over his head of greasy (probably unwashed) brown hair and closing his eyes, as if musing about something important. "You gotta try this weed bro, I just, I-" he stuttered as he took another hit. "I don't fuckin' know man, I think you just need this."

Exasperated, I dropped my heavy bag on the floor and strode over to his side of the room, switching to mouth breathing to avoid inhaling too much foot funk from his "clean pile" of clothes, as Max called it. Even three air fresheners weren't enough to keep the pungent smells of weed and sweat at bay.

"What the hell, dude, when's the last time you even washed those?!"

"Oh, I dunno, a couple weeks ago, maybe?" Max replied, shrugging.

I could see some of the dried crust still clinging to the fabric. I couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of his stash. The pile was easily four feet across, and it was clear Max was still working to roll his way through the rest. I couldn't even imagine where he got it all.

"Look, just let me finish my meeting, then I'll smoke with you, okay?"

Max's eyes lit up.

"Yeah, for real?" he replied, excited. "You promise? Pinky swear?"

Max stuck his hand out, his pinky raised and his arm shaking slightly. He looked like an overgrown child. I was so tired, I didn't even hesitate. I wrapped my pinky around his, then turned to walk out of the room. As soon as I let go, I felt a sudden, powerful wave of euphoria wash over me. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. I couldn't even think straight, the sensation was so intense.

I collapsed against the doorway, unable to move. I could barely even think. The only thought that went through my mind was that I'd never felt this good in my life. Every inch of my skin tingled and buzzed, like a pleasant static that sent ripples of bliss through my muscles. I couldn't even control the way my body twitched and shivered.

"Duuuude," I heard Max say. "You feel that, man? I told you it's the good stuff."

I didn't know what was happening to me. My heart was racing and I couldn't breathe, and the feeling was getting more and more intense. "What..." I struggled to even sound out words. "I didn't even...take a hit..."

"Well, no, not technically," Max said, laughing. "But, uh, that's not what it was, actually. See, I sorta dosed your pinky."

I looked up at him, confused. My vision was blurry and I could barely see him, but he was grinning widely, and I could see the outline of his meaty, calloused hands rubbing the front of his jeans.

"See, it's like this, man. That wasn't weed. That was just, you know, a little something to get you to loosen up a bit. And, uh, well, there's this other thing, too. That shit I sprayed on your hand. It's not, uh, not exactly what you think."

The euphoria was fading, but it was still intense, and it was making my brain spin. "You sprayed my...hand?" I mumbled, barely able to understand what he was saying.

"Yeah, bro, I sorta had to, man. You kept getting me down with all your stress." He flexed his big biceps and gave one a kiss. "Now you're gonna be just like me!" He grinned wide, his perfect teeth glinting in the low light.

I couldn't respond. The sensations were still washing over me, but the euphoria was fading. As my brain began to work again, I suddenly realized that there was something wrong with me. There was a new, alien weight between my legs.

"Wha-what did you do?" I stammered, still dazed and confused. "What...what did you..."

I looked down, and froze. There was a huge, heavy bulge straining against the crotch of my jeans, stretching the thick material taut. It was huge. Like, absolutely massive. It was easily the size of my fist, maybe even bigger. It was so big and round, I could even see the outline of the individual balls.

"Duuuuude, bro, look at that fucking thing!" Max exclaimed, pointing and laughing. "It's totally fucking huge! Holy shit, man, it's the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life!"

I tried to speak, but I was still so confused, I couldn't get my mouth to form words.

"I didn't know they could get that big, man! Wow, bro, you're really packing a fucking cannon, you know that? Holy shit, it's so fucking hot." Max was practically drooling as he ogled the enormous bulge in my pants.

I could feel the heat radiating off of it, and I could tell it was pulsing and throbbing with each beat of my heart. The sensation was incredibly intense.

"It's...it's not possible..." I stammered, my voice cracking. "What...what did you spray?"

"Bro, I'm telling you, it's totally normal!" Max said, trying his best to sound reassuring. "My friend from home, he said, well, it's just that..." Max stammered again, his usually peaceful face betraying some shyness. "I've always thought you were cute, even without that package. You just needed to loosen up a little. And, I mean, I just wanted you to be, like, comfortable with me. It was just a little bit, man, and it was totally safe. Like, I swear, it's totally normal, dude." He grinned and shot me a wink. "Soon you're going to be just like me."

Max was still staring at the massive bulge, and I could see the outline of his huge dick stretching the crotch of his jeans.

"Dude, bro, I-" my hand shot to my mouth. I had never used those words in the same sentence before! "I...I didn't mean that!"

"Oh, yeah, dude," Max replied, not even noticing. "It's totally normal, bro. You're just a little high is all."

"High?!" I shouted, exasperated. "This isn't...I'm not...this isn't how people talk!"

Max just shrugged. "Bro, you've always been a nerd, and it's cool, man, I totally get it. But this is a big step forward. You're gonna love this. I swear."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I was still trying to process everything that was happening to me, when I heard Max's voice.

"Duuuuuude, check it out, bro," he said, gesturing to the bulge in his jeans. "We're, like, totally packing!"

"I can't..."

"Oh, shit, right. Dude, you gotta feel this."

Max quickly reached down and grabbed the bulge in my pants. As soon as he made contact, I felt a powerful surge of pleasure ripple through me. My body immediately responded to his touch, and I could feel my new cock throb and twitch. I groaned, unable to hold back the sounds.

"Dude, holy shit, bro, it's like, really sensitive or something," Max said, his eyes wide. "Like, really, really fucking sensitive, bro."

"No, it's...not..." I moaned, but I could tell it was a lie. It felt like Max's hand was squeezing my balls, and the pleasure was incredible.

"Fuck, bro, it's, like, really fucking sensitive, dude. Like, fucking, crazy fucking sensitive." Max was practically drooling, and his eyes were glazed over. He was clearly enjoying this a lot.

"Please, stop..."

"Fuck, bro, you're so fucking hard," Max groaned. He started to rub my bulge, and his other hand went to the front of his own jeans. "...and, you're so pretty too. I just don't want to lose you to all those meetings, bro. I want you to be with me."

"Wait, no, what are you doing?"

"I can't hold back anymore, dude, I gotta see your big dick," Max replied, unzipping my jeans and reaching in. He slowly pulled down, and my eyes widened as he revealed the huge, throbbing bulge in my underwear. It was so big, the fabric was stretched tight, and it was already soaked in pre-cum.

"Holy shit, dude, that thing is huge!" Max exclaimed, his voice cracking. He was staring at my huge bulge with a lustful expression, and his long tongue darted out to lick his lips. "It's, like, fucking, massive."

I looked down and was shocked by what I saw. It was easily twice as big as it had been just a few minutes ago. It was still growing, and it was stretching the fabric of my boxer-briefs to the limit. Max began to move closer, scrambling to take off his busted old t-shirt, meaty pecs and perfect washboard abs busting out as he did. He leaned forward, and his massive bicep brushed against my new rock-hard dick.

"Oh, shit, bro, fuck," Max moaned as he leaned in closer. At this point I could almost feel the waves of sweat and weed rolling off his huge body, and my cock was throbbing and leaking, straining against the tight fabric of my underwear.

"You're so hot, dude," Max said, reaching out to grab my huge bulge, wrapping his meaty hand around it. His hand was warm and rough, and his grip was strong, squeezing my bulge and causing a fresh burst of pleasure. "You're, like, fucking sexy as hell, man."

"What the hell, bro, no, that's not...that's not right!" I stammered, but Max's words sent a thrill through me. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I could feel the heat radiating from my skin. "That's not, I'm not a fag!"

"You sure about that, bro?" he asked, giving it a tug and sending a bolt of pleasure through my body. I felt the euphoria return. This time, it was a hundred times more intense.

"Fuuuuck," I groaned, leaning my head back. "Bro, it feels so fucking good."

"I know, right? And it's going to feel even better when you're a stoner like me, dude." Max replied, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Fuck, bro, I can't take it, I gotta get naked," Max moaned, frantically undoing his belt and shucking his pants. "I'm so fucking hard, bro, I can't wait to fuck you."

I looked down, and for the first time, got a good look at my new equipment. It was absolutely massive. It was huge and thick, easily the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and it was still growing. It was 10 inches long, and thicker than a beer can. My balls were huge, too, hanging heavy and swollen between my legs. I'd never felt anything like it.

The sensation continued to wash over me, slowly becoming heat as I began to sweat. It felt amazing. I couldn't control myself, I was already starting to moan and groan, and the euphoria was starting to mix with my arousal. My new cock was so sensitive, and the slightest touch made it throb and pulse.

"It's starting!" Max shouted, looking at my side of the room as my clean and organized things started to transform. My desk became cluttered with bongs and pipes, and posters of the periodic table were suddenly replaced by scantily clad men. My clothes started to change, too. My formerly neat shirts were suddenly full of holes and stained with various substances. My shoes were replaced with flip flops and Crocs.

"I can't take it, man, I'm too horny, I need to kiss you, right now," Max moaned, his voice shaking with desperation. "I've been waiting for this day, dude, and I can't hold back any longer."

Before I could protest, Max leaned in and kissed me, his big, thick tongue probing my mouth. The heat was overwhelming, and his kisses were passionate and hungry. His big, rough hands began to explore my body, rubbing and stroking and caressing every inch of me. He broke away from the kiss and buried his face in my neck, licking and nibbling and kissing. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, and I could smell the overpowering funk of stale sweat and reeking weed. It was so powerful I almost didn't notice my feet begin to ache and the pain in my lower back.

"What's...what's happening to me, bro?" I asked, my voice breaking. "I feel...I feel like...fuck, bro, it hurts!"

"You're changing, dude," Max replied, grinning. "It's the weed. You're finally becoming one with the bud."

"Fuck, bro, I can't hold back anymore," Max moaned. He reached down and began to stroke his giant cock, pre-cum pouring from the tip. It was easily 9 inches, and his massive balls were swollen and heavy with greasy, unwashed hair.

My feet continued to ache and burn as they stretched out, becoming bigger and broader. I could feel my bones shifting and rearranging, long tufts of sweaty hair sprouting out of my feet as they morphed into giant, hairy stumps. I couldn't believe it. The changes were getting more and more intense, and it was driving me wild. I felt like I was going to explode.

"I can't take it anymore," Max groaned, his voice a husky growl. " I have to make you mine."

Without hesitation, Max grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me face-first into my mattress. His hands were rough and strong, and he easily manhandled me.

"Holy fuck, dude, your ass, it's..." Max moaned, his voice filled with lust. "It's so fucking huge."

My ass was getting bigger and rounder, and it was stretching the seat of my boxer-briefs to the limits, and I felt a sharp, sudden pain as the fabric gave way and tore, leaving my huge, jiggly, fat, bubble butt exposed.

"I'm so horny, bro" Max moaned, his voice shaky and breathy, as my ass filled with greasy, oily stink, the air thick with the musk of unwashed flesh and reeking, unwashed funk.

"You're so hot, dude. It's so hot that you're getting stoned."

"What? Bro, that's not...wait!"

"Don't worry, dude, you'll get used to it. It's just the weed talking."

"No, wait, bro, you can't..." I moaned again as my legs began to push me taller, my thighs and calves widening and thickening. My feet swelled even more, filling to a size 13, and a sudden rush of heat swept over my body.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot, man," Max groaned, his voice thick with lust, rubbing my new, tick legs as dark, swirly hair began to sprout, quickly becoming matted with the sweat of hours upon hours of mindless smoking.

"Please, bro, stop," I moaned, as my body began to shake. "I can't take it, I'm gonna...I'm gonna cum."

"Dude, that's the whole point, bro," Max replied, his voice trembling. "Just relax, and let it happen. It's gonna feel so fucking good."

"It's too much," I moaned, my cock throbbing and pulsing. "It's too intense."

"I know, dude, it's just the weed, bro. It'll feel better after you get used to it. Trust me."

I could feel the hair begin to creep onto my stomach and chest, quickly spreading and covering me in a layer of greasy, foul-smelling, sweaty body hair.

"Dude, are you seriously not feeling this, too?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Bro, I can't take it, please, just stop, it's too much."

"Dude, chill, you're fine," Max replied, flipping me back over and rubbing his hand over my new abs and thickening pecs. "Just enjoy the ride."

"Wait, no, I'm not...fuuuuck!"

The sensation was so intense, it was driving me wild. I could barely even think. My pecs were growing larger and heavier, and my nipples were swelling and darkening, the areolae growing thicker and hairier.

"Fuuuuuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max groaned, grabbing a fistful of hair and giving it a sharp tug, making me moan with pleasure.

My cock was throbbing and leaking pre-cum, and I could feel the heat coming from it. My balls were swollen and heavy, and they were aching for release.

"Fuck, dude, I can't take it," Max moaned, his voice filled with desperation, shoving his face into my pit as they began to grow and deepen, quickly filling with rank, musky body odor. As he licked, my arms grew longer and wider, my biceps and triceps growing thicker and bulkier. My forearms became thicker and more defined, and my hands and fingers were getting bigger and beefier.

"Bro, it's so fucking good." Max's voice was muffled by my armpit, and I could feel his tongue lapping up the stale sweat and musk.

My arms were now completely covered in thick, greasy, matted hair, and the same was happening to my back, the swirly pattern spreading like a wildfire. My shoulders were growing larger and rounder, and I could feel the muscles shifting and rearranging.

"Please, dude, don't...I can't..."

"I can't stop, bro, you're so hot," Max moaned, his face buried in my pit. I could smell our odors mixing together as our muscular bodies writhed against each other, slick with sweat and the stinking smell of weed.

I was so turned on.

"You're so hot, bro," Max moaned, his pre-cum leaking all over the place.

"No, bro, what?" I moaned, my voice trembling. "I'm not a faggot."

"That's just the weed, dude," Max replied, his voice low and husky. "You're gonna love it."

"Please, no," I moaned, but I knew he was right. I was so turned on, and the weed was driving me wild as my neck and jaw began to fill out and widen, my Adam's apple growing into a large, meaty knob.

I moaned as my voice deepened, the vibrations reverberating through me, causing me to shiver, my speech becoming permanently relaxed, just like my roommate's.

"Fuck," Max groaned, going in for a slobbery, wet kiss, our body heat generating enough stink to make me gag.

My body was now covered in matted, swirly body hair, and it was growing thicker and greasier, the same thing happening to my chest. I could feel my pecs bulging even more as my face was being smothered in kisses and licks, my nose cracking into a previously-broken shape and the skin becoming rough and scarred.

"Oh, fuck, dude, you're so fucking hot," Max moaned, burying his face in my thick neck, his voice muffled by the hair.

"No, please, bro," I moaned, my voice cracking. "I can't take it, it's too much."

"You can do it, bro, just hold on a little longer," Max replied, his voice shaky.

My tongue grew thicker and longer, and it started to loll out of my mouth, my face cracking into model-level handsomeness. I was so turned on, and I couldn't take it anymore. My balls were throbbing and pulsing, and my cock was throbbing and pulsing.

"I'm gonna cum," I moaned, my voice deep and slow.

"Do it, bro," Max moaned, his voice trembling. "Do it, cum all over me, bro."

I felt his fingers run across my short hair, sending a shiver down my spine. My body was wracked with pleasure as I felt ropes of rancid, stinking cum shoot from my cock, splattering his chest and stomach. I couldn't control myself, I was moaning and groaning, the intense orgasm rocking my body, my new, masculine frame shaking and quivering.

With each rope, my bright green eyes became dimmer and dimmer, coloring grayer and grayer as all of my worries and stress flowed out of me, and I fell into a state of bliss, my cock still twitching and throbbing as the last change began. My hair grew longer and thicker, until it was a long, shaggy, dirty mess, and a fresh wave of fresh musk rose off me.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I moaned, my voice deep and slow, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"Fuck, dude, you're so fucking sexy," Max moaned, his voice cracking. "I can't believe it, dude. You're, like, totally a stoner now, bro."

"Haha, yeah man...wait bro, haven't I always been?" I looked at myself in the dingy dorm mirror, and realized I looked like a dumb, stoned idiot. My voice was deeper, and my accent was different. My hair was messy and unwashed, and my skin was tanned. My pecs were massive and my abs were rock hard. My cock was huge and throbbing. My feet were hairy and stinky. I had a huge, round, bubble butt.

I laughed a deep, airy chuckle.

"That's right" Max said, staring into my dull eyes. He seemed like the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on until I realized.

"I love you, dude." Max giggled.

"Yeah man, I love you, too" I slurred, leaning in for a sloppy kiss, my tongue probing his mouth, the taste of weed and sweat overwhelming. He returned the favor, and soon, we were a mess of sloppy, stoner kisses, our thick, stubbly chins rubbing together, the sound of slurping and licking filling the room.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, the kiss ending, both of us breathing heavy and panting, a mixture of spit dripping from our chins. "That was, like, totally amazing, dude."

"Fuck, yeah, bro, it was fucking awesome," Max groaned, his voice trembling. "I've been waiting for this for, like, ever, bro. It's fucking crazy."

"Yeah, dude, totally," I replied, staring at his gorgeous, masculine features. His big, thick arms, his perfect washboard abs, his massive pecs, and his perfect, handsome face. He was fucking hot, and he was all mine.

#stoner tf #dumber #male tf #himbo tf #muscle tf

1K notes · View notes

atsuwumus · 5 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑.

๋࣭⭑ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : who sees the human face correctly — the photographer, the mirror or the painter? dr ratio had always had an obsession with pretty things. so when you seek his guidance for one of your artistic pieces you find yourself in for more than you bargained for.

๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : mature content, minors dni 18+ only. dom! dr ratio x fem! reader, teasing, fingering, objectification if u really squint hard enough. p-paint play??? I wrote this with my coochie okay ʕ•͡-•ʔ

๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : nobody perceive me after writing this (๑﹏๑//) rlly messy one but wanted to get something out tonight on the new bloggie :3

"𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 aren't you a pretty sight."

His voice is low and as smooth as velvet, vibrating off the walls of the empty display room and shaking you right to your core. His voice shouldn't have such an affect on you, but it creeps into your veins like a slow acting poison, tainting your thoughts from the inside out.

For weeks now you've tried to get his attention, ready to beg on hands and knees for just a slither of recognition. You see, your artwork hasn't always made the biggest impact. Many found it rather mundane and boring.

One failed exhibition after the next had led you to seek out the only person you knew would have the answers you so desperately sought, the only person who would either see your vision through strokes of paint and blurred lines — or who would be able to tell you to give it all up for good.

A shaky breath leaves your chest when the door clicks closed behind him.

Another leaves your lips when the slow and purposeful stride of his feet draw closer.

Rows upon rows of paintings of the finest details line the walls on either side of him but all he seems to be focused on is you.

Delicate strokes of paint stain your skin, spanning from one naked hip to the next. Swirls of green and blue meet in an intricate dance across your nipples and span to intertwine around your neck, a true display of intricacies and colors. You're bare to him, attesting to the advice he had given you with a shrug of his shoulder weeks ago.

"And what is this supposed to be?" he drawls, his voice coming from behind you. It takes every last ounce of your strength to scrape together enough willpower to remain still where you are, plastered on the small pedestal for him to see.

You inhale, exhale. Count to three and back again before you speak.

"You said I needed to be braver with my art," you say yet your voice still shakes. "That I needed to start taking more risks. This is me taking that risk."

An understanding hum vibrates low in his chest, a pleasant sound that eases some of the tension in your shoulders. But the closer he gets, the more he inspects, the hungrier his gaze gets. A calloused fingertip runs from the blade of your shoulder down to your hip. He taps his chin, feigning to be deep in thought.

"Risqué," he murmurs. "But not quite complete. Not to my liking."

Curiosity burns in your gaze as your eyes follow each shift and shrink of his body, watching avidly as he picks up a tube of paint, squeezing some red ink onto his fingertips. There's a half smile tugging at the corner of his lips — one that you aren't sure is entirely there — before he lets his fingers dip against your skin.

You gasp.

The paint is chillier than you expected against your heated skin as he draws long, precise lines along and around your breasts. He takes his time, idly moving his digits back and forth, keeping his gaze trained on the way the red brings your skin to life. A low chuckle follows when he runs his inked fingertips across your pert nipples, ensuring to outline them properly with thick layers of paint. Once satisfied does he pick up a deep mauve, smearing it across your abdomen, sinking lower and lower until you finally let out a whimper.

It's only when he sets the tube of paint down that he says, "Do not for a second think that I don't see you rubbing those thighs of yours together. Did no one ever tell you to not disturb the artwork?"

It should be embarrassing for you — how debauched you look right now, on the brink of being ruined, letting him paint, prod and process whoever he pleased, without any objection. You bite down on your bottom lip, pursing them together when you catch a flicker of his gaze — warm and wanting, like a predator ready to sink its teeth into his prey.

It's a weak protest but you let out a small, "Dr. —"

"Be quiet."

You swallow your words with a thick throat, chest heaving as he steps closer to you, right between your thighs, ever so slowly tilting his chin up to meet your gaze as he cleans his fingers off with a damp cloth.

"I believe I told you to bare a side of yours to me that I haven't seen before in your art," he drags out, letting his fingers smooth over your hips and thighs, admiring his work like a proud master. "But I never expected this from you. Tell me, have you put on a show like this for anyone else before?"

"N-No." You shudder with a shake of your head.

His lips curl into what you could only presume to be a satisfied smirk. "Good. It would be such a shame if I had to share something from my private gallery from the rest of the world."

His hands are definitive in the way he touches you, without hesitation or uncertainty, but with the elegance of a painter, parting your thighs with ease and running two fingers between your puffy lips, smirking when he realizes how wet you truly are.

"This is almost pathetic," he muses, continue to collect your wetness in between his fingers and using it to circle your clit a few times, always coming close enough to give you a taste of what you craved, but never indulging you. "How desperate you are for some attention. I almost pity you."

He gives your clit a smack with the palm of his hand, a deep chuckle bubbling in his throat when you yelp.

"Almost."

"P-Please." You almost don't recognize your own voice, how each syllable is painted with desperation. How your thighs shake with anticipation and you continuously clench around nothing each time he circles your entrance.

"Shhh," he chides, his voice sweet like honey but his eyes told you a different story. "I'm determined to enjoy the entire gallery. And I don't like being disturbed or disrupted. It takes away my focus."

He tilts his head up to look at you. "Do you understand?"

Your bottom lip wobbles a little when he slides two slender digits between your folds, curling them with ease and stroking along your soft walls until he heard you whine. "I do, I do!" you nod along feverishly, ready to beg and plead at this point — anything just for him to give you what you want.

"Good... Something tells me I'm going to be enjoying this spectacle tonight."

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fic #honkai star rail smut #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio smut #dr ratio drabbles #dr ratio fic #hsr x reader #hsr smut #hsr scenarios #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr drabbles #hsr fic #veritas ratio #veritas ratio smut #veritas ratio x reader

2K notes · View notes

pwinkprincess · 3 months

Note

do u write for sukunaaaa

if so can we have cum denial wit him. like fingering n teasing reader till she’s crying n babbling 🐾 <3

sugarpie ୨ৎ

not getting sukuna’s attention has you acting out ୨ৎ

yeah probs mii first nd last time writing abt kuna ^.^ i really enjoyed doing dis for u tho ^_^

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ SUGARPIE ⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆ ---> rough fingering, pet names (baby, princess, mama), shameless use of the word daddy :P, begging, clit slapping, squirting, daddydom!kuna, lawyer!kuna, orgasm denial

“kuna.” you drag out his name as you climb onto his lap. it’s been hours since he’s given you any sort of attention, you understood that the paperwork he is working on is extremely important. he briefly explained to you days prior about taking on a big case that would bring in a lonesome amount of money once everything was said and done. which is fine, of course you’re gonna support your kuna in whatever he takes on. but what isn’t fine is his attention being diverted to papers instead of you.

he grumbles out while he leans to your side so that he could see what was displayed on his desk. you sit quietly on his lap for a few moments, your mind is racing with how you could get his attention back onto you. a deep rooted, responsible and sensible side of you reminds you that he’s working and he told you that he would be busy on it, you know you’re being selfish but you can’t find it in you to care. if anything it’s sukuna’s fault for spoiling you so much!

“kuna.” you whine again. your head lays on his hard shoulder while your hands begin slithering against his waist. even through his shirt you could feel the hardened muscles, you loved just running your acrylic tips over his muscles and watching them tense every now and then. “daddy, are you ignoring me?” you ask with a frown that sukuna didn’t need to see, he could hear it in your voice.

“‘f course not, baby. ‘m just busy trying to sign these documents.” sukuna barely pays attention to the words coming out of his mouth as he jots down more and more onto the paper.

“aren’t you tired?” you huff, “can’t you just take a little break?”

“not right now. i need to stay on top of this case ‘nd fill out as much as i can as fast as i can.” he suddenly leans down a little to grab a paper thats on the far end of his desk. you wrap your arms tighter around him, but you know sukuna would never let you fall. no matter how busy and out of it he seems.

you don’t like that response at all. you roll your eyes at his resistance and settle with resting your head on the crook of his neck. you breathe in his cologne. the colognes’ he wears pairs so well with his natural scent. they smell so warm but masculine in a way. you close your eyes, opting to lay there and enjoy the feeling of his heart thumping and his body movements each time he inhales and exhales. you use the sound of the pen sliding against the paper as white noise.

you hum softly against him. this is better than being in separate rooms, you suppose. you would prefer for his attention to be on you completely but you’ll take what’s given at the moment. usually, you’d be chattering away about minuscule things while sukuna works but he quickly shut that down weeks ago.

“my office is my sanctuary, princess. i don’t care if you come ‘n here but you have to stay quiet so daddy can focus.” the firmness in his tone left no room for debate, which is why you slowly nodded your head while looking up at him.

you were only able to sit still and quiet for a few minutes, you tried, you really did. but you couldn't contain yourself from letting out littles hums and shifting your hips every few minutes. your little thin panties would get snagged on the shape of his cock causing little whimpers to escape from your throat when it does happen. sukuna doesn’t comment on anything you do, only occasionally patting your thigh when he deems you are moving too much.

“kuna, please.” you whine out as you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him fully. you didn’t have to say what you wanted, he knew. he always does.

“‘m working, mama.” he reminds you. irritation is seeping through his usual tone. hearing the slowly growing firmness begin to take over his words causes little hairs to stand up on your body, you both loved and hated when he talked to you like this.

“i don’t care! i need you kuna!” you clutch at his shirt with your hands. the hairs continue to stand.. no way you just raised your voice at him. a twitch of fear settles in your stomach.

“watch your tone.” he stops writing completely.

“wouldn’t have gotten loud if you would’ve jus’ paid attention to me.” you mutter under your breath as you begin getting off of his lap.

“the fuck you just say?”

୨୧

“kuna, i can’t! ‘s too much please!” you cry out as his thick fingers roughly pump into your fat pussy. the sounds of your arousal coating his digits filled the room, you were so fucking wet. he had already managed pull an almost orgasm out of you. he waited until you were breathing heavy and for your legs to be shaking desperately to pull away.

he doesn’t respond to you, only forcing your legs further with one hand while adding another finger. you squeal and whine while clutching on his wrist. his fingers are so fucking thick inside your sensitive pussy. your clutch at his wrist does nothing to slow him down.

your poor pussy could do nothing but take his aggressive fingers, you thrashed around on his lap which only made him slink an arm around your waist to hold you in place. fat tears ran down your cheeks as he continued holding your legs open so that he could continue to fill you.

everything about sukuna is thick. not just his fingers, but his cock (especially that), his muscles, his personality. those were just minor reasons that added up to why you loved him.

hearing the humiliating squelch, squelch, squelch and just feeling your arousal dripping down from your everflowing pussy to his lap. if you weren’t getting fucked stupid by his fingers you would’ve been embarrassed from the growing wet spot that is forming on his slacks.

“talkin’ t’me crazy.. have you lost your fucking mind?” he asks. with every word he’s hammering his fingers as deep as he possibly could, it’s almost to the point that it hurts. you whimper out a soft “daddy” and try to close your legs to prevent him from continuing to abuse your poor pussy.

you can’t find it in you to say a response, instead, you let out loud mewls and sobs. sukuna doesn’t take much appreciation to his words being met with silence, with a rough huff he pulls out the hand that’s fucking you to oblivion to give you three rough slaps against your right thigh.

a piercing sob breaks through your lips,“yes! daddy! ah! yes! i'm sorry daddy!” you didn’t even know what you were saying. loud sniffles mixed with the words you slobbered out. you were a complete mess, you loved when sukuna got you like this.

“‘s okay, though. don’t worry, baby. daddy’s going to make sure you remember your manners.” he plunges his fingers back into you with no warning prompting an unexpected orgasm to shoot from your sensitive pussy. he groans and begins slapping at your clit. squeals escape from deep in your throat. he remembers specifically telling you not to cum until he said so.

“daddy! oh! ah! ah! i’m sorry!” you try to crawl away from the intensity of your orgasm. sukuna clicks his teeth and roughly pushes you back up so that your back is aligned evenly to his chest. you’re fully sobbing now as a stream leaks out and sprays onto his fingers, lap, and parts of his paperwork.

“no more, kuna, puhllleeaaa-ahhmygodd..” your sentence is broken when he powers his movements back up. you’re still leaking out your orgasm when he adds a third finger. “daddy! kuna! baby! pleaseee, no more!” drool leaks from the corners of your mouth as you are dumbly babbling out to him.

“tch.” he sighs. “cummin’ even when i told you not to. you must really not be my good girl now? hm?” you could hear the smirk in sukuna’s voice. usually when he finds your actions amusing, you’d pout at him. but you were so fucked out all you could do is continue to grip his wrist weakly.

“‘s too much, kuna. toooo muchhhh.” you groan. you try closing your legs around his hand once again and this time sukuna bites down on your shoulder making you squirm. he didn’t bite down hard, he made sure to only use enough force to make you stop moving.

“keep ignorin’ me.” he warns. “your second time now. even while getting punished, you’re still actin’ up.” he jeered. “maybe you’re not my good girl after all.”

“‘m your good girl. promise. ‘m your good girl.” you sniffle, he was still rubbing his fingers against your walls filling you up jussttt right. your eyes glance down and you could see his hand sparkling with your arousal and to make matters more intense his fingers are etched with your cream. you could only whine at the sight.

he places soft kisses on the side of your neck and jaw. “watch me fuck my pussy.” he mumbles while placing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips. “gonna make sure my pussy gets all the attention it's been beggin’ for, and you better not fucking cum again until i say so.”

#asks ! ˚ ༘ ೀ #pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #kuna ᡣ𐭩 ୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶#jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა #˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk smut #sukuna smut #sukuna ryoumen smut

879 notes · View notes

seiwas · 2 months

Text

₊˚⊹｡ don't let go, okay? | gojo satoru

wc: 2.1k

summary: it has to be some sort of fate that you happen to be stuck with gojo on valentine's day.

contains: f!reader, slowburn, fluff, reader and gojo are 21, reader and gojo are ‘guardians’ to megumi and tsumiki but they are not romantically together, japanese valentine’s chocolate tradition, reader’s cursed technique (vaguely), kind of pining

a/n: in the 'conversations on love' universe but takes place before the main series (would be nice to read but not necessary to understand this). theme song for this is what love is by zimmer90.

part of 'do you know what love is like?', a mini-series of almost's within 'conversations on love'. also included in how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)

The night is crisp when you step into it, the clean cut of a cool breeze tickling your cheek; it sweeps past you in the edge of winter and spring.

You walk along the street.

A sort of faded, vintage hue paints Shimokitazawa, wooden boards with worn down signages holding names of antique shops in every corner. The night feels older here, retro lights tinging bars and pubs more maturely than those nearby in Shibuya. At the street across, the sign of a cafe is flipped the other way to formally open the speakeasy it transforms into.

You’ve only been here twice before: once with Nanami and Utahime years ago, while searching for old vinyl records the three of you had gotten into, and another with Tsumiki, some time last month because she’d mentioned wanting to check the thrift shops.

Who would have thought you’d be back so soon? With—

“Satoru,” you call out, half-giggling, “why are you sniffing?”

Gojo trails just a few inches behind you, body bent over closely to catch a whiff but not near enough to touch. Each inhale he takes is punctuated with the sound of whizzing air, condensing to fit through his nostrils.

“You smell like chocolate.”

Out of all the plans you’d anticipated on Valentine’s Day, being roped into a mission with Gojo at the last minute was definitely not one of them.

You shake your head knowingly, the corners of your lips curling; Gojo can smell sweets miles away, you could honestly mistake it for his cursed technique.

He pulls back, falling into step with you.

“Tsumiki asked me to help make some earlier.”

Heavy jazz floats through the air as you pass by a bar entrance, the music muffling as the doors fall shut a few seconds later. Your boots clack against the pavement.

“Oh?” Gojo perks up, voice turning an all-too-familiar hint of nosy as he teases, “What kind?”

You snort as you dig your hands further into your pockets. For someone who claims to be all-seeing and all-knowing, Gojo is a lot more inquisitive than he seems; his nonchalance is but an added security much like his infinity is, dissipating only in company he’s comfortable sharing that side of him with.

It’s been a while since Gojo’s been ‘home’ in the past week, so you don’t blame him for wondering.

“Tomo mostly,” your gaze shifts to the side, waiting for his reaction, “though I did notice her sneaking a few honmei ones when I wasn’t looking.”

There’s a slight stagger to his step as his shoulders tense up, his sunglasses shifting higher as his ears push back. You bite down your laugh.

For as clueless as both you and Gojo are when it comes to being guardians to Megumi and Tsumiki, you think Gojo’s grown an odd mix of semi-brotherly-kind of-fatherly-mostly-guardianly protectiveness over the both of them—to Tsumiki especially. You can tell because his reminders to Megumi are always sealed with some form of ensuring Tsumiki makes it home safely.

‘Home’, which is where the kids stay, but it’s neither yours nor his—just a place nearby that keeps them protected and comfortable. You’re with them most days, Gojo staying when he can, but with the higher-ups assigning him on missions left and right, there’s hardly any time for him to drop by. Hell, you haven’t seen much of him either, besides the rare instances of bumping into him along the halls of Jujutsu Tech, a whine almost always drawn from his throat.

You see his curiosity as an effort to check in.

He only hums, hollower than his usual responses. The sound of his footsteps fill the gaps of what would typically be a seamless back-and-forth with you; you try not to comment on it.

Indinstinct chatter brings the street to life, smooth beats cascading warmth against the chilly breeze. Despite the noise, Gojo’s silence feels unsettling—as if there are words forming at the tip of his tongue, withheld for reasons you can’t quite get a read on just yet.

So, you wait, learning more and more that he usually comes around when—

“Did you?”

The question is half-murmured, part of it lost to the night.

Did you what? Notice Tsumiki?

“Hm?” you tilt your head towards him, tucking strands of hair behind your ear in an attempt to hear him better.

He doesn’t answer.

You stop walking.

“Did I what?” you adjust your coat before turning towards him, catching the slightest of his gaze before he looks away quickly.

(“Did you make honmei chocolate?” he means.)

Still, no answer.

The tips of Gojo’s ears dust pink, and you try not to comment on that too.

His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, slipping free before his Adam’s apple bobs, swallowing.

“Wanna see something cool?” he changes the subject, removing his sunglasses and turning back to you as if none of it happened. As if he didn’t ask you anything, as if you didn’t ask what he meant—as if you didn’t just catch him at the tail end of a wistful stare.

The shift in his tone happens so suddenly, it feels disjointed. Unnatural. But you’ve gotten used to moments like this from knowing him for so long; Gojo always says less of what he truly means.

You focus on his face, yellow and red retro lights dancing on clear blue. He looks almost freakish this way, otherworldly—a crazed look you’ve gotten familiar with. His hands are stuffed inside his pockets when he stops, gangly long legs outstretched by the shadow beneath him.

There’s really no time to be doing this right now, the both of you just 10 minutes away from the mission’s location—an abandoned building housing a special grade curse that lures people in with fabricated memories. Around you, the neighbourhood’s nightlife has dwindled, your walk thus far having brought you farther from the heart of the place and closer to somewhere more quieter, more secluded.

Gojo looks too excited, eyes beaming wonder and mischief along with something else you can’t quite figure out yet. You purse your lips in thought.

“C’mon, it’ll be quick.” he smirks, the dimple on his cheek deepening as he shrugs, “I’ve finally perfected it.”

A beat—skipped before your heart races.

You wonder if he knows, if he’s using this to his advantage, because—

—when have you ever denied him when he looks at you this way?

The higher-ups should have known better than to pair you together for a mission. Your instructions were merely ‘to assist’, but you hardly believe it considering Gojo almost always handles these things on his own. It’s more babysitting, you know, to keep the damages of his technique to a minimum.

They shouldn’t have called on you, of all people—you’re on Gojo’s side. Always.

A smile threatens to escape your lips, warmth spreading within your cheeks; you roll your eyes jokingly, stifling a giggle before relenting.

“Fine.”

He guides you forward, chest bumping against your shoulder blade as he picks up pace. It’s a clear road ahead of you, the streets emptying out to more greenery; your senses are filled with the smell of the earth mixed in with the faint cotton of Gojo’s cologne.

This is bad for your feelings.

(Being this close to you feels like the ticklish drag of fingernails just right before it creates indents in his chest.)

There’s something brewing between you and Gojo, neither of you have just addressed it yet. He pulls away when the moment is too close but still looks for you first after missions, an almost automatic question to either Shoko or Ijichi about your whereabouts.

You’ve been catching his stares too, almost always at the split-second before he turns away—a reaction on impulse. The silence between you feels fuller lately, as if there are words he wants to say but is choosing to withhold.

When the space is vacant enough, he steps a few inches to your right, left hand stuffed inside his pocket as he shakes his arm hesitantly, almost awkwardly.

“You have to hold on to me,” he instructs you.

Your eyes widen, equally surprised and shy as you slowly take your hand out of your coat and slip it into the empty space, resting it on the crook of his elbow. Gojo freezes very slightly.

He shakes it off just as quickly, “You might be sensitive to my domain because of your technique, so stay close just to be safe.”

Then, his head tilts towards you, a little closer than you’re both used to. This near, his eyes hold a perfect morning sky, eyelashes hanging like wispy clouds on a clear day.

Your gazes meet and you blink twice, goosebumps littering your skin.

“Don’t let go, okay?”

Another beat—followed by another, and another, the sound of it growing louder.

You almost miss the way he says it gentler than normal, how sincere it feels with his breath tickling your cheek.

“Okay,” your fingers curl around his arm tighter.

He lifts his other hand up, crossing his fingers as he recites the mantra to his domain. In an instant, the greenery around you disappears, stark white taking its place.

“What do you think?” Gojo asks almost immediately, crossing his arms over his chest. Your fingers stay curled onto the crook of his elbow, sandwiched between his forearm and bicep; his other hand rests a few centimeters away from yours, nearly touching.

You scan the space, examining its vastness. Minimalist. A blank sheet—

“It’s…” you try to find the right words, “... empty?”

He gasps exaggeratedly, “Hey!” then pouts in fake offense, “I made it porcelain white at least. This isn’t pure white you know.”

You eye him from the side.

He chuckles, breaking his act, “You should be honored.”

A pause—his tone shifting to something softer, more vulnerable.

“You’re the first person I’m bringing in here.”

His admission is unexpected, but it feels relevant, makes you feel like it, too.

You’re touched, knowing how secretive he’s been on perfecting his domain since Toji and Geto; he only ever tells you and Ijichi about it. No one ever pressured him into achieving his perfect domain, but he feels like his existence necessitates it.

“It’s clean,” you finally say, playing along, “I like it.”

He eyes you this time, dimples deepening the more he attempts to poorly push down his smile.

“Shame I can’t really do much with it, would have wanted to spice up the interiors a bit.”

You snort, knowing full well that Gojo’s very much the type to pick one piece of furniture and anchor the entire place’s aesthetic off of that.

“Someday.” you catch his eyes again.

(It echoes in his ears, the quickening thump of his heartbeat—pink noise that can’t possibly be a product of your technique.

In the silence of his domain, all he hears is that sound and you.)

He hums before looking back to the empty space, “Acoustics would be good by then, we can try your technique in here.”

You nod, the corners of your lips curling; his pinky presses against yours so faintly you wonder if you just imagined it—if he had meant it or not.

The special grade is dealt with within a quarter of the time it took you to travel to here, but Gojo seems to bear the consequences with another one of his migraines—a mixture of fatigue from activating his domain earlier along with sensitivity from the increased bustle in Shimokitazawa’s night life as you exit the neighborhood.

You make a mental note to get him something that covers his eyes a little bit more than those circle frames he uses—an imbued blindfold maybe? You’ll have to think about it some more.

(When you both get ‘home’, you set up the couch, offering him the spare bedroom so he can sleep off the headache. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen for a glass of water when he catches a glimpse of it—a fully decorated box of honmei chocolate partially hidden at the corner of the counter.

The card has half of his name written in your handwriting.

You don’t end up giving it, but he does receive some chocolates from you, still. It’s a belated gift the next day, along with the ones you gift to Shoko, Yaga, and Ijichi—a tradition you’ve kept up since you were 16.

But, his box has an extra piece, and you even tailored each one to all his favorite flavors: sakura, strawberry, zunda, and anko; his card is the same one you left half-written, just now fully spelling ‘Satoru’.

So, he thinks his might be a bit more special, and he’s realizing that he likes it that way—he might prefer it much more, actually.)

a/n: haven't written col in a while but this is the official launch of 'do you know what love is like?', a mini-series of almost's within the 'conversations of love' universe! there are lots of details that connect to some of the col works but this happens before all of the ones released so far (so you don't need to read the main series to understand this, but it would add to the full experience if you do!).

thank you notes: @augustinewrites love u my valentine, this fic wouldn't exist without you 🥹 + @stellamancer col couple is here!! with chocolates!! thank you for going over this for the first read 🥹 ily niku + @mididoodles @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat my cheerleaders!! thank you for the support always 🥹

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

1K notes · View notes

pascallftv · 1 year

Text

Headlines (Pedro Pascal x Reader)

summary: you and pedro had been close friends since the movie you shot together wrapped nearly a year ago. you decided to have game night with some friends at your apartment, but pedro stays behind after everyone’s left. a little too much wine and pent up feelings lead to the moment you’ve been fantasizing about for months.

wc: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT! 18+ age gap, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex

MY MASTERLIST

You waved goodbye to the last two of your friends, closing the door behind them with a sigh of relief. Your social battery was running low after nearly 6 hours of card games, and probably an entire bottle of wine. You were sobering up, but you still felt a nice buzz. You closed your eyes and put a hand over your forehead, inhaling a deep breath.

“You okay?”

You turned towards the couch, your heart race picking up. You had totally forgotten that you had one straggler left: Pedro. But, you didn’t mind. You cherished alone time with him, which was something you hadn’t had recently. Both of your schedules were booked tight between press and various photo shoots to promote your latest projects. It had already almost been a year since the film you met on wrapped. On set, you and Pedro hit it off immediately. You both had the same goofy sense of humor, and fed off each other’s energy. You admired Pedro’s kind heart, and he admired yours.

You kept in touch after the film wrapped, texting and calling nearly every day, and meeting for coffee or lunch whenever you could. The only issue was you were in your mid twenties while Pedro was nearly fifty. Your innocent friendship didn’t translate well in news articles. It was impossible to have a platonic relationship with a male counterpart without it being misconstrued as an intimate relationship in the headlines. Deep down, the headlines enthralled you. You were sure Pedro didn’t feel the same way, but there was something about the fine lines by his eyes when he laughed at your jokes and the way he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you through doors made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t deny that you had feelings for him, but you knew you couldn’t act on them. There was no way Pedro would feel the same, let alone date someone who was half his age. Yet here he was, alone with you in your apartment in the middle of the night, both of you tipsy.

“Yeah, just tired.” You responded, sending him a reassuring smile, walking towards his spot on the couch.

He was slouched back in the couch, his legs spread comfortably in front of him. His arm was draped across the back of the couch, his other hand propped on his thigh holding a glass of wine.

“Come here.” He said, patting the cushion next to him. You wasted no time sitting down next to him, the musky smell of his cologne engulfing your senses. He returned his arm to the back of the couch, placing it behind you head. You were sitting close enough to where his knee was barely touching yours, his body heat radiating through his tight jeans onto your bare skin.

“I haven’t had you alone like this in weeks. I miss this.” Pedro said, his big brown eyes staring down into yours. You know his words were innocent, but your mind went elsewhere. Your lower belly was taught with nerves. Why were you so nervous? You’ve never felt so on edge around Pedro.

“I’ve missed this too.” You muttered, your eyes glancing down at his lips subconsciously. You couldn’t help yourself.

“Is something bothering you? You seem nervous.” Pedro furrowed his eyebrows. He brought his arm down to cradle your shoulders, rubbing soft circles into your shoulder with his thumb. His touch littered your skin with goosebumps, and you felt heat beginning to grow between your thighs.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

Pedro didn’t believe you. He could sense how tense your body was. Your fists were curled up in your lap, and you were avoiding eye contact. It worried him. Had he done something to make you uncomfortable? The thought sent a pang through his chest. He cared about you so deeply, the last thing he wanted was to see you so on edge around him. He couldn’t help but wonder if the news headlines were affecting your friendship.

“Is it the headlines? You know those journalists are full of shit. They’ll makeup whatever they can to get clicks.” Pedro said, angling his body towards you. You glanced up at him, shaking your head.

“No, it’s not that.” You said, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“If you’re worried about people thinking we’re together, we can keep our distance. I understand.” Pedro said quietly, his hand leaving your shoulder. Your stomach dropped at the loss of touch.

“Distance is the last thing I want, Pedro. It’s just..” You began, averting your eyes to your hands in your lap. You didn’t know what to say. Your feelings for him were bubbling up and you wanted to tell him everything so badly, but you didn’t have the courage. There was no way he would feel the same, and you couldn’t risk losing his friendship.

“Just what?” Pedro questioned, taking a sip of his wine before setting his glass on the coffee table. “I’m not ashamed of you. I don’t care what anyone in the media has to say about us. At the end of the day, our friendship is more important than some fucking random journalist’s clickbait.”

Your eyes returned to his. His doe eyes were soft and full of care. You loved his eyes so fucking much. You took a deep breath. You suddenly built up the courage.

“I’m not ashamed of you either. I’d be lying if I said I’m not scared of the headlines. They scare the fuck out of me. I know we’re just friends, but what if the rumors start affecting your gigs? I couldn’t let that happen to you.” You began. “I saw a headline the other day claiming that we’re hooking up and that you’re old enough to be my father. Does that not concern you?”

Pedro furrowed his eyebrows once again and stared down at your face that was full of concern. In all honesty, he had seen all the headlines, but they excited him. He was to the age now where he didn’t give a fuck about headlines. No matter who he associates himself with, he’ll face backlash of some sort. Why veer from the people who make him the happiest? You had made him the happiest he had been in years. You were young, but you were so incredibly wise, caring, kind, and unbelievably funny. He wanted more than anything to take it to the next level with you, but he was so much older than you. You were not only an amazing person, but you were gorgeous; you could pull anyone you wanted, so he felt intimidated. Why would you choose him over someone closer to your age?

“I couldn’t give a fuck less about those headlines. Would it really be that embarrassing if those headlines were true?” Pedro said, his hand finding its way back to your shoulder. Your heart felt like it was going to pound through your chest. Did you hear him correctly?

You were speechless. You gawked up at him with parted lips. You didn’t know how to respond. Of course you wouldn’t be embarrassed, you’d actually be quite content if those rumors were true.

“If I’m being completely honest with you, I wish they were true.” Pedro voice filled your silence. Your stomach was doing backflips. His hand moved from your shoulder to your jaw, his fingers tracing along your chin, his eyes admiring every detail of your face. Your body began to give into his, your torso angling towards his subconsciously.

“Can I kiss you?” Pedro whispered, his hand burrowing into the hair at the back of your head.

You’d forgotten how to speak, so you nodded vigorously instead. That’s all Pedro needed.

His lips crashed into yours, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling your body into his. Your lips moved in sync, not too soft, but not too harsh, just needy enough. You’d been fantasizing this moment since the moment you met Pedro all those months ago. Your hands migrated to the back of Pedro’s neck, then to his chest. God, he felt so fucking good in your hands.

In one quick motion, Pedro lifted you into his lap, deepening the kiss. His tongue entered your mouth, grazing along your teeth and tongue. You felt high off his scent mixed with the sheer passion behind his touch. Any sense of doubt of his feelings for you were long gone. Your hips grinded down into his lap, your center meeting his already hardening erection. It ignited a fire deep in your abdomen, and you let out a breathy moan at the sensation. Pedro pulled away from your kiss for a moment.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” He breathed out, his hands running down the length of your back to your backside. He firmly gripped the flesh of your ass through your thin shorts and brought your hips down harder into his. He tilted his head back against the couch with a moan. His erection met your clit through your shorts, making you suck in a fast breath.

“Fuck, I need you to touch me.” You muttered, pressing your forehead to his. You were both breathing heavy, your lips ghosting each other.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” Pedro said lowly, his hands spreading your ass through your shorts. His hips bucked up into yours, your head flying back in arousal.

“Touch me.” You began, grabbing his dominant hand. “Here.”

You brought his hand down to the front of your shorts, making him cup your heat. You were throbbing so intensely that it hurt. You weren’t wearing panties, and you were sure you were going to soak through your thin, cotton shorts soon. Pedro wasted no time in pushing your shorts to the side, his fingers brushing along your core. You were completely soaked, his fingers becoming slick with arousal.

“Jesus christ, you’re fucking soaked.” Pedro grunted, his fingertip brushing your clit. You jolted from the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders to keep yourself steady. You were so fucking desperate for his touch. Your face fell into the crevice of his neck, the smell of his cologne became more intense.

Pedro placed his lips to the side of your neck, peppering soft kisses to your sweet skin. He reached his free hand into your hair while his occupied hand slowly ran a finger through your drenched folds. He breathed heavily, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. Gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby.” He whispered, pushing a finger inside of you. You whimpered, pushing down onto his finger, craving more. Your hands wound up in his hair, pulling at the strands at the base of his neck. His tilted his head back, staring up into your lustful gaze. He added another finger, and your mouth formed an “o” shape, with a quiet moan escaping your lips.

You pressed your lips back to his. Your kiss was full of desperation. You had never felt so fucking turned on in your life, and you just wanted him as close to you as possible. You pressed your chest firmly against his, and grinded down against his fingers. His hand left your hair, and lowered to your chest. He took one of your clothed breasts into his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. His fingers suddenly left your entrance, making you sigh at the lack of contact. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt, and lifted it upwards. You raised your arms, helping him take the shirt off of you. He wasted no time in unclasping your bra, tossing it mindlessly onto the floor somewhere. Your nipples were rock hard, your piercings on display. Pedro’s eyes lowered to your nipples, a moan leaning his lips at the sight of your piercings.

“Holy fuck.” He groaned, taking your breasts into his hands, lowering his mouth down to one of your nipples. He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking on the sensitive flesh while he played with the piercing between his fingertips on your other nipple.

While he was occupied with your tits, you raised your hips slightly to pull down your shorts. You needed bare contact immediately. Pedro lifted you off his lap and onto the cushion beside him, and stood up from the couch. He began unbuttoning his jeans. As good as those jeans looked on him, you needed them off. You were surprised to see he was also sporting no underwear. You bit your lip as he slid the jeans down his legs, his erection breaking free. He was so fucking thick, pre-cum dripping from his tip. He pressed a hand to your chest, laying you down into the back of the couch, your feet on the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it on the floor next to your other disregarded clothing.

Pedro knelt down between your legs, prying your thighs open with his hands. He wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, lowering his face towards your heat. His eyes flickered from yours down to your folds. You were glistening with arousal. He lowered his mouth to your inner thigh, peppering it with kisses. He was taking his sweet time, teasing every ounce of desperation out of you. You whimpered impatiently. You gasped when you felt his hot breath hovering over your heat. He flicked his tongue once through your folds, getting a taste of you.

“Pedro, please. Touch me.” You begged, running your hand through his chocolate curls.

Pedro’s lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue flicking quickly against it. You moaned and threw your hand back into the couch, your hand tugging the roots of his hair. Pedro worked your clit with his tongue while he brought his fingers back to your opening, slipping two inside of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing out in relief. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling up inside of you, hitting your g spot perfectly.

“Fuck, Pedro.” You whined, struggling to keeps your thighs apart. Pedro squeezed the flesh of your thigh with his free hand, moaning into your core from the grip you had on his hair. The vibrations from his moan sent you into a frenzy. Your lower abdomen was filled with fire. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, which you probably would’ve been embarrassed of if you weren’t so blindsided by pleasure.

Pedro inserted a third finger into you, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to conceal your moans. You were never this vocal, but you couldn’t control it. You were so overwhelmed with sensations. Pedro grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand away from your mouth. Pedro’s mouth left your clit, flicking it with his tongue one last time before pulling away.

“I want to hear you.” He said, pinning you hand to your side. Your chest heaved, you were out of breath.

“Fuck me, please. I need you closer.” You whimpered, reaching down to his cock, wrapping a hand around his shaft. He groaned at how soft your hand felt against him as you began to stroke his tip. As good as your hand felt wrapped around him, he needed to be inside of you.

Pedro lifted you up into his arms, carrying you away from the couch and into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed. Your head fell back into your pillow as you watched him crawl up between your legs. He ran a hand up to your chest, squeezing your breast while his other hand guided his cock to ghost over your folds. You were throbbing again, your hips bucking up towards his cock. He bent down and kissed you passionately. He took your bottom lip between his teeth for a split second before pulling away.

“Ready, baby?” He said softly, pushing his tip between your folds, barely pressing your entrance.

“Yes.” You breathed out, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you again.

“I want you to watch.” Pedro pulled away, lowering his gaze to where he was teasing your entrance with his cock. Your stare followed his. He slowly began to push into you, your eyebrows furrowing together in pleasure. He was stretching you so fucking perfectly. He pushed halfway into you before stopping for a moment, tracing his hand down the length of your torso before landing his thumb at your clit, working in soft circles. Your legs trembled, clenching around his hips and he pushed into you fully. You felt so fucking full.

He started to move, thrusting into you in rhythmic strokes, his fingers still working your clit. You were already approaching your orgasm. Your head felt cloudy with pleasure, your entire body completely overcome. Your eyes rolled back into you head as he picked up the pace, fucking you hard and fast. Your first orgasm hit you like a train, your vision going white. Your walls clenched around him, coating his cock with your cum. Before you had time to recover, Pedro flipped you over onto your knees, slamming into you from behind.

“Fuck!” You gasped, fisting the sheets for leverage while Pedro relentlessly fucked into you. His hand came down in a smack against your ass, then grabbed your cheeks and spread them apart, getting a full view of him sliding in and out of you. He brought his thumb down to your tightest hole, slowly ghosting the rim of it.

“You feel so fucking good.” Pedro moaned, his thumb pressing against your asshole, but not penetrating it. His other hand ran up your spine, grabbing your shoulder as leverage to pound harder into you. You were seeing stars and he filled you up completely, hitting the deepest part of you over and over.

“Can you cum for me again, baby?” Pedro whimpered, his thrusts becoming sloppier. “I’m so fucking close, but I need you to cum with me.”

“I’m close.” You whined, you hand reaching back to hold his against the flesh of your ass cheek. Your touch was enough to send Pedro into overdrive. With the last of his energy, he began slamming into you as hard and fast as he could, his fingers lowering to your clit, rubbing fast circles. You couldn’t handle it. You bit down on your free hand, uncontrollably whimpering into your skin. You’ve never felt this much pleasure in your life and you thought you could pass out.

Your second orgasm hit harder than the first. You threw your head back, letting out a loud moan, tears filling your eyes. Your walls clenched hard around Pedro’s cock, sending him closer to his orgasm. You came hard, your toes curling at the overwhelming pleasure. Your limbs felt numb, and you swore you forgot how to think. Pedro gripped your hips hard, his strokes slowing down as his orgasm grew closer. He slid out of you and flipped you over again onto your back.

“I want to see your pretty face when I cum.” He moaned, sliding back inside of you. You grabbed his face with tired arms and brought his head down so you could kiss him. One of your hands dropped to his throat, gently squeezing the sides of it. Pedro whined, a hand flying to your breast to squeeze.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Pedro whimpered, his sweaty forehead meeting yours.

He quickly pulled out of you as his orgasm hit. He came in thick ropes over your abdomen as he stroked himself, milking every last drop. He gave you a quick, breathless kiss, and stared down at his cum that littered your belly.

“You look so pretty with my cum all over you.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses all over you neck and collarbones. You ran you hands along his sweaty back, digging your fingertips into his hot skin and he panted into your neck. He left your neck to lower down to be eye level with your belly, and began licking up his mess. He gave your tits a gentle squeeze as he worked his tongue over your soft skin, cleaning up any remaining cum.

When he was finished, he peppered kisses back up your torso until his lips met your again for a sloppy, yet passionate kiss. He laid beside you, his fingers tracing up and down your belly, occasionally ghosting over your nipples. God, he loved those piercings.

“Looks like the journalists aren’t completely full of shit now.” Pedro grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You smiled up at him with a giggle. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, giving him a kiss there.

“I think we might need to go another round just to make sure.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #tlou fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #joel miller #javier pena narcos #javier pena #pedro x reader

4K notes · View notes

henry7931 · 6 days

Text

Beach Trip As My Friend’s Uncle

Miguel:

This is by far the best idea Zach and I have ever had! A few weeks ago, my best bud Zach begged his parents to let me come on their family beach trip but unfortunately they wanted to keep it a family trip.

That’s when Zach and I got a little creative. We decided to ask his cool Uncle Derek if I could swap bodies with him for a week. Now Derek isn’t your ordinary uncle, he’s pretty adventurous, single, likes to party, and is always down for some shenanigans. So when we asked if he’s willing to swap with me, he immediately said yes! He seemed to be just as excited to be me since he’s getting out of the family trip all together.

So we all met up that morning at Derek’s place. Zach already told his parents that he’s riding down with Derek. And when I arrived Derek already had a bag packed for me.

We quickly swapped bodies and it felt so cool being so much bigger.

I grinned at Derek in my body who also looked super happy. He pulled me in for a hug which felt so weird, I could have easily picked my body up like it was nothing.

As I hop into Derek’s nice truck, he says to us, “You boys have fun! And doing anything too crazy in my body!”

“Thanks Uncle Derek!” said Zach.

“Yes thanks again Derek, I’ll take good care of your body I promise!”

“Good and hey I packed condoms just in case things get too crazy. Don’t need my body coming back with anything.”

Zach rolls his eyes while I felt a warm sensation in my stomach. It just hit me that not only do I have Derek’s body for a week but I also have control of his massive package.

We get on the road and I pull off Derek’s shirt just to show off his tattooed pecs.

Zach’s sitting next to me so excited and says, “God this is so crazy! I mean look at you dude you’re inside my uncle right now.”

“I know man, this is about to be the best trip ever!”

When we arrive to the resort, Zach and I head to check in. We run into his family. We say our hellos to everyone and I’m surprised by how good of a job I’m doing at pretending to be Derek.

We get our room keys and head up. The room is huge! We even have our own bathrooms along with a balcony.

I put Derek’s bags on the bed and open them up to see what clothes Derek packed for me. But when I get to the bathing suits only two of them are normal ones— the rest are all speedos.

Zach pops in already in his bathing suit and says, “you about ready?”

“Uh no not yet give me a few,” I say to him.

“No rush bro! I’m gonna head down, I’ll see you in a few.”

As soon as Zach walked out of the room, I immediately got naked.

I look at Derek’s nude body, that’s when my eyes focus on the thick long dick that I now control.

I try my best to control my eager to touch it, laying back on the hotel bed. I didn’t want to risk Zach walking but I feel like I only have so much alone time with it.

I look down at Derek’s sexy size 11 feet, they’re beautiful and manly. I trace his fingers along his chest down to his cock and balls.

His dick is already hard, I start to stroke it and it feels amazing. It’s my first I’ve ever jerked off in someone else’s body. And it’s so different from mine.

I sit up and bring Derek’s big foot to my face smelling his toes as I wiggle them. I start licking his foot, still jerking his dick with my other hand.

I feel so close, I knew I was going to bust any minute. I let out a loud powerful grunt, inhaling his sole before cum bursts out all over.

I look over the mess I just made, damn that felt great. I whip some off of his chest and taste it. It taste’s so good.

I clean off his chest with a shower towel and grab one of his speedos.

I take a pic of myself to send to Derek and say, “you only packed speedos?”

I get a response a few minutes later, “well you look sexy in them. Send me more pics 😜”

I feel Derek’s cock start to get hard again from his text. Is he flirting with me?

#body swap #male body swap #male tf

375 notes · View notes

toji-girl · 3 months

Text

t. fushiguro

original ask: toji req!!! if u r still taking reqs, could u possibly do toji x pregnant!reader ? maybe like a rlly sexually frustrated reader and reader wants toji to help them outt 🌝

tags: 18+ only content - mdni + repost from my old blog + pregnant! fem reader + pregnancy sex + fingering + squirting + begging + finger sucking + you call him daddy once + cowgirl + unprotected sex + creampie + you're Gumi's mom + I want him to put a baby in me so bad it's actually worrisome

It seemed that everything had turned sexual in nature as of late, which only made you think it was a cosmic joke of sorts with the way you were pent up and needy for a good orgasm that left you dizzy.

Being seven months pregnant your self-confidence took a bit of a dip but your husband, Toji always made sure you knew that he thought you were sexy as hell pregnant with his baby then life got in the way.

It was busy between having to take care of your toddler while keeping up with the house and finding time for your friends who adored your son so that meant they were over quite a lot. "I need one of you to watch him tonight please?" You asked them with a plea in your voice.

They all looked at each other, your three closest friends knew what you needed, you've become snappy with them even, and at first, they chalked it up to pregnancy hormones until you told them that you haven't had sex in weeks during a girls night a few weeks ago.

"It's not like you can get pregnant," Hina teased making everyone laugh even you as you swatted at her playfully watching Megumi play on the playground with his friends.

You rolled your eyes and gave her a slotted time to pick Gumi up and bid them goodbye before you and Megumi took off back home to get ready for dinner and a bath before he left and Toji came home.

When he did two hours later, he was greeted with darkness and silence which only made a rush of anxiety to settle in his veins as he called your name out then Megumi who would always greet him.

"Babe?" He called out again and slipped his shoes off seeing the rose petals scattered along the floor, his eyebrows rose as he followed the trail of red to the bedroom where he toed open the door to see you on the bed dressed in his favorite lingerie set and candles flickered about the room with soft music that set the mood.

You sat up when he entered feeling your face flush with warmth. "Hi baby, how was your day? Megumi is staying the night with Hina so it's just us, I miss you so much." You whispered in a soft tone looking at him as you held your hand out with a knowing smile.

Toji was quick to shed his shirt sharing the same desires as you, you glowed in the warm light of the candles making his chest ache. "Darlin', I missed you too, and my day is better now that I get to see my very sexy pregnant wife dressed up just for me, I'm one lucky bastard." He drawled and slid his hand into yours kissing your knuckles as he kneeled between your spread legs.

Your eyes met his in a heated gaze as you threaded your fingers threaded through his raven locks. "I want you to undress me, eat my pussy and fuck me. I'm serious when I say I need you so bad it aches."

He leaned in to kiss you deeply, his hand sliding to hold the back of your neck as his other hand cupped your heavy breasts filled with milk before he moved to your back to unclasp your bra freeing your tits to his greedy palms. "I know baby, I'm right here now, let me take care of you," Toji murmured breaking the kiss to look at you again.

Desire and lust danced in his green eyes as he watched you lean back using your hands to prop yourself up to see him spread your thighs more to watch him bury his face between your legs inhaling deeply.

Heat filled your cheeks as he hooked one large finger under the soft material to move it to the side to kiss your pussy lightly, his nose nuzzled against your clit as his tongue tantalizingly dipped between your lips hearing you gasp and whine his name. "Daddy, please!"

His cock throbbed and leaked between his thick thighs hearing you sigh his name and grind your hips as your fingers curled into the soft blanket as he kissed and sucked on your clit now making out with your cunt messily growing drunk on your taste and smell.

"You have the prettiest pussy, you know that? I could kiss her forever, and since she's mine I think I might just do that for tonight." He muttered out loud as he spread you open to see your hole clench.

He chuckled and leaned back in to dip his tongue in tasting you wholly making your legs quiver as his fingers joined in curling when he slid them inside you slowly, the rough tips grazed your g-spot just in time for his tongue to circle your clit making you cry out.

Your back arched as you panted closing your eyes and getting lost in the pleasure you ached for, it wasn't long before you squirted making a mess of the bed and the front of Toji's pants. "Good girl, making such a mess." He grunted in a deep tone as he pulled back a little.

His eyes were glassy and low as he stood to his full height pulling his pants and boxers off to reveal his dick that pulsed with the need to be buried deep inside you, your hand came up to stroke him from base to tip hearing him suck in a breath. "Ah - sweetheart, it's all about you tonight, want to ride me? I know that's easier for you." He murmured.

"I would usually argue because I love giving you blowjobs but I don't think I can wait anymore, yes please let me ride you." You begged with a whine and watery eyes as he laid on his side of the bed helping you straddle him but not before you slipped your panties off.

Now naked and bathed in the soft glow of the candles you interlocked your fingers with his as your other hand held the base of his cock to line him before sinking down slowly until he bottomed out making you gasp feeling so full and stretched out. "Fuck yes!" You hissed and slowly rode him taking your sweet time feeling him.

His hands skated over your bare body like a map he's studied for years and he has, Toji knew the spots to kiss and touch to have you putty in his hands. "You look so good riding me, not a prettier sight in the world." He groaned letting his head fall back on the pillow.

Your own hands were greedy feeling him up, his body was broad and heavily corded with muscles that you adored and his happy trail that you rubbed with the heel of your palm. "And you look so good under me, the most handsome man who happens to be all mine? I think I'm dreaming." You teased leaning down the best you could to kiss him.

With your swollen belly it was hard so Toji met you more than halfway to return the needy kiss tangling his tongue with yours as he caressed your sides before helping you ride him, the sticky head of his cock kissed your cervix each time you sat back down on him.

"I could pinch ya if you want?" He suggested pinching the fat of your ass gently making you huff and gasp before slapping his hand away playfully with a groan and giggle when he hit a particular spot.

You pushed on his chest gently and ground your hips back and forth which in turn rubbed your clit against his pelvic bone lulling you more into the high you wanted to chase again, your body felt warm and gooey as you continued to fuck him slowly panting and moaning.

Green eyes gazed up at you with pure adoration at how you looked and moaned his name, his woman in her primal need for him made his balls tighten with the need to cum but he wanted you to do that before he did. "Cum for me pretty girl, cum on my cock." He urged.

You did just that, your pussy clenched around him so tightly he swore for a moment that it was going to get ripped off. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You feel so fuckin' good." He grunted gripping your hips tightly.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head drawing out his orgasm by bucking his hips up a little. Toji waited for his body to return to a semi-solid state instead of feeling like goo before he turned you to your side gently with him still inside you kissing your forehead.

"I'm not done with you yet sweetheart, we just need a break and some water. We have all night and I have to make up for the time we missed." He told you with a slight chuckle making sure you were good before sliding out of you with a soft grunt before making his way to the kitchen in search of snacks and drinks for the next round.

#tw: pregnancy #toji x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #toji smut #toji x you smut #toji x yn smut #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x pregnant reader #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

537 notes · View notes

wintersera · 6 months

Text

your order ma’am || g!p yujin x f!reader

notes: apparently my brain works at ungodly hours like its 8am rn??? ANYWAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAY @pupyuj <33 well happy belated birthday, but oh well

cw: g!p yujin, switch!reader, switch!yujin, praise, crack only bc i laughed a few times while writing, WEED USAGE!!, reader and yujin get high

wc: 1.5k

in the middle of your living room, smoke filled the air as you took another puff from your almost burnt out spliff. your eyes trained on the tv that had a random episode of spongebob on the screen. probably one of the random old seasons, the funnier ones obviously. the moonlight cascaded through your window illuminating the side of your face, blunt as well.

another smoke session today again. and for what? the nth time this week. to be fair it was a stressful month and no one was there to comfort you, except for the frequent delivery guys who’d deliver your food to you whenever you felt the need to snack on something. they wouldn’t comfort you, rather, you’d like to believe they’re comforting you with their presence. presence being them knocking on your door and leaving after 10 seconds.

every delivery was the same, the old ‘shove the bag into your face, ask if it’s you and then leave’.

tonight was different though. you ordered from the same place a good 30 minutes ago thinking your food would arrive on time, you’d gotten accustomed to their arrival times so you could just guess without having to look at your phone. yet the delivery guy never came.

“man.. where the fuck is my food at?” rolling up another blunt since your last one wasn’t strong enough. you sigh and stare directly at your tv once more. heh… funny spongebob episode. your lips met the tip of your freshly rolled blunt, lighting up the end and inhaling.

knock knock knock

the knock didn’t register in your head until you heard the person bang on your door three more times, although they seemed like very hesitant bangs, with an odd spacing between the second and the last one.

“oh fuck” immediately dropping the blunt upon the last knock, which somehow made you panic. why in hell did you think it was the police???

right, because the police were definitely at your house and not the delivery guy with a bag of food waiting for you.

i mean, you are high so…. but anyway, it was raining and you suddenly regained the knowledge that you ordered food. you reluctantly opened the door, with the thought of the police at the back of your mind, to find a pretty handsome looking woman outside your door.

“uh… why are you here” why the fuck did you say that? the taller woman scrunched her nose a little, maybe because you reeked of weed, looked around awkwardly and spoke to you without initiating eye contact.

“you called and i… came to your address to give you the pizza you ordered”

“how’d you know i lived here?” oh so now you’re interrogating the poor girl.

“wha- that’s not… anyway here’s your pizza ma’am” shoving the pizza box in front of your face. classic.

“ohhh shit pizza, okay nice. how much?” words slurring out of your mouth. your hands reached for your purse that you conveniently had in your pocket.

“it’ll be $18” looking around the place as if she had no time to stand around.

oh what the fuck.

where’s your cash gone….?

“don’t be alarmed… but i have no cash” you say with a smile, your eyes half lidded as you chuckle even though the opposing girl was nowhere near impressed. the situation was quite ridiculous to you, but you felt a tinge of regret after saying what you had said.

from what you could tell, it was her first time on the job. you had never seen her come round to your house on a random thursday night, no wonder why she looked so nervous “oh um, sorry i don’t have any cash i could….”

yeah, you’re high out of your mind right now. no coherent thoughts whatsoever, but she’s pretty, and you’re not thinking straight “i mean… i could pay another way. you wouldn’t mind would you?”

you beckoned her inside of your home, taking the pizza box and placing it beside your ashtray on the coffee table “how can you pay me back if you don’t have any cash? are you gonna paypal me or something”

“are you dense by any chance”

“n-no… i’m just confused. wait, why are you taking your clothes off?” you picked back up the disregarded spliff after you took your shirt off, inhaling and blowing the smoke in the opposite direction.

“paying you the other way, duh. like in those stupid porn videos where the delivery guy does whatever they want to the person because they didn’t have any cash on them… you don’t like the idea?”

“that seems really unrealistic and stupid, but um i’m not… uh how do i word this? i don’t m-mind” unintentionally stuttering, bewildered by the situation because honestly what the fuck is going on.

“come here…” you squint your eyes at her name tag “ahn yujin- your name has a nice ring to it” she sat on your sofa, shaking from what could be adrenaline or just anxiety. but considering you accidentally hot boxed her in your small living room, it’s most likely adrenaline.

you slid yourself in between her two thighs, smirking as you unzipped her jeans. you eagerly stripped her from her jeans, following her boxers? it’s 2023 you’re not gonna judge someone for wearing boxers, but-

oh?

yujin’s cock sprung up, which genuinely caught you off guard, moving back a little because of how shocked you were by the sudden reveal. my god, she was huge. bigger than the average man.

considering you were still heavily intoxicated, you didn’t believe it was real at first. you stared at it for a while thinking that maybe you were just- crazy? but no, it was very much real and very much hard.

“d-don’t look” muttering under her breath. yujin covered her face out of embarrassment “i swear it’s not what it looks like- mh”

“you got turned on by me didn’t you” giggling after kissing the tip of her cock “i bet you were waiting for this exact situation to happen, didn’t you?” you say before taking her whole length, the tip hitting the back of your throat with ease.

“f..fuck, it’s- mmmngh” she couldn’t do much, the air was thick with clouds of smoke due to the lack of airflow in your room. it was making her head hazy, unable to think coherently. yujin’s moans were soft and low, her hands roamed around and grabbed your pillow, her hips moved at the pace of your head going up and down, which in fact made you groan in approval.

in the meantime, your hand reached down to tend to your own wetness, caressing your folds as you continued to suck her cock.

without thinking, yujin lifted herself off the sofa. the marijuana made her move without thinking, grabbing you and tossing you onto the cushions “you hinted that i could do whatever, right?” you found yourself shocked, what made her suddenly so confi- the weed you dumbass.

“don’t think you're slick, i saw you playing with yourself” moving aside your panties while licking her lips, yujin shuffling in between your thighs “i think you should come around my cock instead” how, and when, was she this vulgar? she teased your hole before slowly pushing herself into you, her girthy cock filling you up in no time. you both moaned in unison, your fists balling the fabric of yujin’s shirt. it felt… it felt way too big for your tight pussy.

“y-yujin.. you’re too big, it kinda hurts-“ she gave you no time to rest, rocking her hips back and forth as soon as she got comfortable inside of you.

at first she was going slow and steady, but gradually she increased her speed. within minutes of slowly pumping her cock in and out, she was mercilessly ramming into your cunt seconds later. the pain at first was unbearable, she was just that big, but the faster she fucked you the more pleasure you felt. every part of her cock hit every spot you couldn’t find yourself, and god it felt way too good.

“so- so good… so tight.. mmghn fuck, your pussy feels amazing” embarrassingly enough, you moaned so loud at the comment. her praise alone was so comforting and so erotic that you couldn’t help but squeeze down on her length, she noticed how you reacted to her sweet words, wanting more of your reactions “you’re so pretty… under me. all fucked out, such a good girl”

her comment sent you over the edge, rolling your eyes back as your back slowly arches off the sofa. almost inaudible as you bite your lip to mute your own moans. yujin followed shortly after, giving one final thrust into you before stilling her hips and letting her warm cum shoot into you.

“that… was… so good” you mutter between breaths. you were completely spent, your legs were feeling like jelly but somehow yujin was still hard.

“still not enough. you still need to repay me more”

yeah no, you still needed to pay for service fees and shit. thankfully it was her last delivery for tonight.

#wintersera #ive smut #g!p ive #g!p yujin #ahn yujin smut #ive x fem reader smut #ive x reader smut #ahn yujin x reader smut #yujin x reader smut #girl group smut #kpop smut

695 notes · View notes

yandere-kokeshi · 11 months

Note

yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost yandere ghost

— His Prey

Pairing: yandere childhood friend Simon x gn reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, slight spoilers for the comics; if you haven’t read it yet, I’d highly recommend reading it - stalking, implied family abuse, kidnapping(?), mentions of alcohol, hinting that the reader is slightly older, and smut.

Smut tags: dubcon, public sex(?), size kink, creampie (wrap it before you tap it!!), messy aftercare(?), and kidnapping?

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. This took so long and this is probably my favorite one. But I may take a break from smut, idk 🤷‍♂️

GIF IS NOT MINE || BELONGS TO @/sgt-gaz

You had been missing for years. Decades that seemed to last for millions for Ghost. As a kid, he’d imagine marriage and having kids - something that every kid admires at least once.

It’s true, he did love you, you always took care of him and helped clean him up after every time he had himself a fuck up. Be it romance problems, money problems, or even family problems. You always struck out your head for him. So, why wouldn’t he look for you?

Your family gave up on you, for reasons that are now beyond him. For reasons that disgusted and angered him.

On his fair share, he could understand what you had gone through. His family was also a mess, specifically his father - always screaming at anyone, especially at you whenever you came to visit. It was a mess. Just like he was and still is.

But, when he got the news that you ran away; your loyal image distorted and tainted by your family’s grief and anger.

He was angry. He remembers jumping over fences, ignoring the pouring rain, and running to your home - not believing the words of his father, but when he knocked frantically, your drunken father answering with slurring words and the smell of cigarettes strong, he knew you had left.

Asking where you had gone, all your father did was shrug his shoulders. Talking down to you as a ‘pent-up bitch who deserved to leave’.

Those few nights in jail weren’t fun. He can still feel the blood on his knuckles. The bruises cracked his skin and made them bleed. To Simon, he was a lucky bastard to even still breathe.

It hurts to be left behind, but Simon soon understood. For your own safety and happiness, you had to escape. He knew in his heart and soul that he’d find you again sooner or later.

And when he did, he’d feel your hands hug him tightly. Hear that pretty voice of yours that was addicting to listen to, even if he didn’t know what you were talking about. Those times in your garage, listening to heavy rock and dancing to the embarrassing beats as you pulled him into a messy kiss.

Those memories were precious to him.

You two went your own ways. But now… he grasps the nice times he had with you. Comforting and safe times with you. The ones where he could run to your home - knocking on your window at midnight, covered in sweat from how fast he ran. Your embrace was the best for him.

Tightening his hold on the film in his hands, the one where you two are hugging from his graduation, days before you had left. He sighed; inhaling through his tight teeth, he jumped out of his truck and started walking towards the diner he knew so much about.

You are his mission, for now, and until he dies.

Ghost had gathered enough information about your cold trail to find you. Found a friendly woman on the way, one that was quite nice and oblivious to the dangers - a nice and gentle lady who had offered to give him the location where she had last seen you a few weeks ago.

A sad but comforting word of, love goes a long way. I hope you find them.

Thudding his worn boots against the pavement, he admired the morbidly dead-beat town; a few people passing by him, eyes staring at him as if he was an alien. But, what was weirder was that no kids were running around - no music or loud beeping of cars could be heard.

Only the occasional noises of crickets and wind blowing against the covering of his hoodie. It was uncomfortable.

Approaching the recognizable diner, the lights were flickering. The run-down neon lights of spotted letters buzzed ever so slightly, the humming could be easily mistaken as a wasp nest. The letters were barely hanging on, only having support from the strings above the window; swinging left to right as if it was a lullaby.

The D and R had shut down completely, making the rest of entire letters seem bigger, a series of flickering flashes that made it as though threatening.

But threatening didn‘t scare him. Not anymore at least. It was something he was used to it.

Coming inside, the loud but nostalgic ding! Was nice to hear. His eyes follow the insides of the booth, looking at the familiar retro commercials playing on the TVs and people munching on the greasy food, chugging cheap beer down their throats, and jazzed music playing in the background.

The heavy smell of oily french fries and vanilla milkshakes burned into his nose. A familiar chase of reminiscent, made him shut his eyes as he sighed, stupidly.

What if you weren’t here? What if… all of this was a dream and he was still a beat-up kid? It was something he didn’t wanna think about, but with everything that’s happened - his family, his home, his mind a fucked up place; everything was possible.

Taking a deep but swift sigh, he reopened them, revealing a familiar face on the opposite side of the counter. It didn’t even take a second for him to know who it was.

It’s you. Look at you…

Walking about, doing your job as you unknowingly noticed the man in a giant hoodie. He watched you walk from table to table - seeing your little notepad and the recognizable clicky pen you’ve somehow kept. The black and orange lines on it have yet faded. Didn’t he give you that in high school?

You’ve… grown. Still cute as a darlin’. Addicting as ever.

He saw you smile at your coworker - their voice going into the abyss of his mind. Your smile is so pretty. It still is. Your laugh too. It was way too genuine for this crappy and unsafe place; a place you shouldn’t even call home.

It gave him the chills. The way your voice was nothing but a gift. Such a gentle smile and laugh. Just like in the old times.

The memories hit him like a train. The photos and slow moments of spending most of the summer with you, running away from old men who were yelling at you for stealing candies at 7/11 - you were facetious and flirty, somehow always grabbing his hands, pulling him along to your mischievous plans. Then, it was fun.

After all, in his mind, you were still the gorgeous partner he so loved. A love grew into need. A need that turned into years of searching and trying to find you again.

But looking at you now, Ghost betted a few hundred bucks - that you’d look really nice with his tattooed arm around your throat - those lips promising to be good and treat him well.

You always tasted amazing. Even whilst sweating or crying.

Tonight, you were exactly what he was looking for: his soulmate. Sure, he didn’t believe in that kind of stuff, but he knew you were meant for him. You were everything he could ask for.

Besides, with that adorable smile of yours, you were practically begging to be manhandled and thrust up against the brick walls behind the diner. For now, all he had to do was wait till you were off. And again, you were his mission after all. And he takes them very seriously.

“Night, Rebecca!” You yelled, shutting the door behind you as you started walking towards your apartment. Pulling your jacket more into your figure, you cursed out loud. Jeez, did today have to be more exhausting?

Maybe I could stop at the wine shop. It is Friday after all, you thought. As you continued to walk down the similar path to your apartment, you never noticed the large figure following right behind you.

Though, you were always a bit naïve. Somethin’ that drew Simon in like a rope around a horse.

Suddenly, whilst you were walking, your phone slipped out of your pocket. The brutal hit of your phone screen smacking onto the concrete made you cringe. Your heart banged out of your chest as you immediately let out a wild yelp.

“Shit!” You blurted out, crouching down to pick it up. Though, as you went down, there was a rush of wind and suddenly you were hoisted by hands grabbing you by the waist. You screamed, trying to kick and hit whatever was behind you, whilst trying your best to ignore the anxiety spiraling in your chest and down your body.

The back of your head smacked against the stone of the wall. But before you could react, a hand was placed over your mouth as the stench of incense and light booze crawled into your nostrils; letting you take in the large yet dark figure in front of you which was leveled with the sight of a black hoodie and muscular arms.

“Shh,” a gritty voice growled in your ear. “I won’t hurt you.”

Is this where you’re gonna die? Where the Fox News makes a case for your murder in cold blood?

It was then that you noticed the nature of the voice, the familiar smell of comfort waving in. Home. It smelled like home.

Preparing yourself, you peeked up at the tall and masked man, barely reassuring yourself as the adrenaline of fright from being thrown into a dark alleyway and being held against the bricked wall was starting to sit in.

Though connecting eyes with the man, you released a gasp. Looking into those recognizable brown eyes you could remember anywhere.

“Simon?”

It’s his eyes. Black holes. No stars. The face paint around his eyes burned into them like ash.

He could feel his heartbeat in his hands, a sudden reminder of his given name, sitting nearly forgotten at his hidden identity; whipped away with ‘Ghost’ and ‘The most Brutal Soldier’.

Simon was no longer Simon. He was Ghost. A hulking behemoth of a man. Nothing but pumped full of adrenaline, a dexterity for killing. A cover-up from his messed up, a shit show of the past.

“Holy shit…”

Your gaze made his heart ache. Watching how tears swelled up into them, how blown wide they were. All he wanted was to wipe those away and kiss them better. Comfort you the times you did to him when he’d come to you crying - feeling your small hands wrap around him and kiss his neck affectionately.

“I thought… your family and you–”

Your hands were shaking - fists clenching and unclenching as his hoodie near his chest. Your voice was shaking, almost like a doe-eyed deer trying to escape its predator; thriving at its very last breath as it tried to talk. But, nothing was coming out. All that was heard were hiccups and the slight pounder of cars driving by.

You sniffled, eyes flashing. The sweet look of concern on your adorable face.

His hand went down, pulling away at his gloves before wiping your tears as more came down. Your hands, always delicate and soft, ascended to hover above his face, barely touching his skulled balaclava. He could feel his throat tighten - like a noose was secured around it. Threatening to yang the weapon if he dared to speak.

“Can… I pull it down?”

You expected a harsh no. A quiet negative answer. You could tell he was wearing it for a reason. Hiding something that he didn’t want you or anyone else to see. It squeezed your heart - uncertainty piling into your stomach.

Though, when his fingers curled around the bottom of the balaclava - pulling up and off the mask, your throat went dry.

So much has changed since you were kids, the Simon you once knew: the soft chubbed cheek and rounded smile was now scarred. Everything on his face was bumped, unmetrical. Dry and harsh. Something you’d never expect from your Simon.

“H-how…” You asked, reaching him to touch his warm cheek - your fingers grazing over his littered cheek of scars. He almost didn’t look like the Simon you knew years ago. His eyes and hair stayed the same. But the rest of him didn’t. The tattoos, his demeanor, the scars, the littered marks all over his body and hands that were once soft and hot to touch. Instead of being the scrawny kid he once was, he was now… big and intimidating.

“I know. Not the proudest moment to introduce again,” He chuckled, his giant hands grabbing yours and tightening his hold. He pulled them up to his lips, taking a moment to look into your eyes before kissing your knuckles.

“I won’t let anything hurt ya’ anymore, okay?” He stated, his hand letting go of yours and wrapping them around the curves of your hips, pulling you closer towards him as he pushed his face into your hair, inhaling a sharp sigh.

“Simon. How did you…?” You ushered out, laying your forehead on his chest as you waited for his answer. Simon — took an agonizingly long minute to reply, his hands tightening around your hips as you wrapped your arms around his lower back, feeling more tears rolling down your face.

“It’s a long story, doll.” He stated, digging his face deeper into your hair as you felt your stomach twist and turn into butterflies.

You detach yourself from his chest, looking up at him as your lips quivered. “I- don’t understand Simon. How are you…?”

“How what, sweetheart?” He looked down at you, his hand going up to your chin, quickly wiping the tears that fell as he patiently waited for your answer.

“Your father- he…”

Suddenly, Simon growled out. His grip on your hips tightened, making you grimace loudly. “Don’t. He doesn’t matter. What… happened years ago doesn’t matter right now.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Shh- it’s fine. Jus’... You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He danced his fingers up your chest, making their way to your sternum. Slowly he unbuttoned your shirt, making sure to take his time as his lips attached to your neck, leaving a few marks that he intends to stay.

“S-imon,” Your words were a little above a whisper, peppered with high-pitched gasps that seemed to be enjoyed by the man in front of you; his lips kissing your ear, jaw, and neck. Slowly making his way down to your stomach.

“I know. Me too,” He chuckled, fully unbuttoning your shirt, and pulling it off as it fell onto the floor. “Been waitin’ the right time, for you to become mine again. I promise I won’t be too mean.”

A whine blanked your mind, feeling his hands knead at your soft skin, cupping your arse under his fingers as he dropped your pants onto the floor. “Fuck, n-not here please.” Though, Simon’s answer was a harsh one as you felt something hard poking you on your thigh.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fast then we can leave, yah’?” His chest touched yours, and with his strong hands, he gripped your thighs and hiked you up onto his hips, knocking your knees together which prompted you to wrap and tighten your legs around his waist.

Your hands fisted his hoodie on his shoulder, “What are you—!”

A moan was let out as you felt his fingers dip beneath your briefs, teasing your core as you cried out; feeling him hit that spot that made your knees go weak. “Oh gosh-” you gasped.

Simon drew his face closer to yours and kissed you. The taste of alcohol and tangy smoke blended in with your breath as he kissed you so sweet that you never wanted it to end - your moan being muffled as his tongue explored your cave.

Your fingers traveled from his shoulders up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you two hungrily fought for a truce; fighting the urge to smile as he groaned from your sly fingers.

Finally, you two separated for air - heaving deeply as you two looked into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, you felt his fingers push up inside you in a twirling motion. You groaned and writhed beneath him, and as you did, your thigh pushed against his groin.

His harsh breath that blew onto you had goosebumps rise across your skin.

“I need you.” he rasped.

You reached your hand down to slide your hand inside his pants to grip his erect cock. You swallow the words that wanted to come out, feeling how your fingers barely touch around the width of him. Jesus, how could anyone have this size?

You rub your thumb over the tip. He’s leaking pre-cum and when your nails grazed his sensitive head, he shivered. By the time you had removed your fingers, bringing them up to your lips, his hands were already finishing unbuttoning his belt and undoing his zipper; freeing his cock.

He was thick, with a bulbous base. He had building veins. Some on the underlining of his cock, outlining the leaking pre-come, rolling down the length of his cock. He also had a happy trail, a sagittal one that was very attractive.

You ached to feel him inside you, but when you reached down, he shook his head. “Let me taste ya’ first.”

Taking a minute, you nodded, and he took your hips in both of his giant hands; adjusting your position up onto his shoulders, letting your legs hang off them. He then lowered his mouth to your body, kissing and nipping down to your V-line, then worked his tongue and teeth to pull down your undergarment as he came to the sensitive skin where your thigh met your pelvis.

He kissed you there sweetly, breathing in your tainted-sweat skin and scent. Infuriatingly ignoring where you wanted to be touched most.

He groans out your name. Spilling it out like a love spell.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he started to work his tongue over and around you. Circling, sucking, caressing. Taking in your taste like a wolf with its mate.

At first, Simon only kept his left hand on your thigh, watching you unravel from his mouth — bucking upwards into his mouth, seeing you moan out as he growled against you, sending vibrations to your core. His nails dug deeply into your thighs, adding a counterpoint to the intense sensations of his tongue and lips as he made sure you whined out.

It took you a pretty short time before he brought you breathless, pushing you over to the edge with his tongue and hands. The rough fingers of his, the depth of penetration of his tongue, and the wet noises made you go boneless.

Yet, he still didn’t move the heat of his mouth from your hole while you came, admiring how your body clung to the concrete wall and his head for support as your shouts echoed throughout the alleyway. He cleaned you more with his tongue — relishing the taste of you.

“Fucking hell.” he grunts.

He departed himself from the mess he had caused - giving you a quick peck before he hiked you back onto his hips, moving your legs around his lower back as he lowered his slick cock between your parted legs, breathing hard.

“I need you, darlin’,” He growled in your ear.

You panted, nodding slowly as your vision was barely picking up - already overstimulated from how long it has been since anyone else has made you cum quite violently.

His breath was hot. Breathing directly down to your collarbone as he nudged the hot tip of his cock against your entrance. He’s too big, his blunt head snags against your entrance. You breathe through your nose, brow furrowing as you tighten your eyes closed.

“Jesus Christ,” He hissed as he bucks, clearly impatient, needing more as he feels the clutch of your sex.

“Easy.. please,” You try, feeling him draw your forehead against his, the sweaty skin rubbing against each other as you two share the love you two once shared - an act of surface, awaiting till it boils over.

“Fuck,” he mutters in your ear.

You cling to him, desperate and a little dizzy. He’s so big and you’re so full, packed to the very brim as his cock drags against your sensitive walls; you feel his nose press into your cheek, his mouth sliding against your jaw as he grinds into you.

“Ss’good,” he utters quietly, “Fuck, I love ya’ so much.”

You cried out in pleasure - clenching down at his shoulders as you bit your finger. His hips and cock punching against the furthest part of your core. He releases a deep groan of pleasure at your sheer tightness.

“More!” You rasped out, grabbing his cheek and kissing him. He parted his lips and let your tongue taste his mouth. You tasted yourself - but you didn’t mind. All you cared about was Simon. Your Simon.

He plants his feet deeper into the concrete, beginning to really fuck you. Positioning his hips and slamming up inside you until the sound of only your soaked hole swallowing him repeatedly along with slapping skin bouncing off the walls.

It’s overwhelming. The heavy smell of rain. The smell of sex and the sounds of raspy groans. Squelchy noises of your hole being brutally hit as your thighs are turning raw. It’s rasp and chafe. But you were enjoying it. Enjoying every bit of it.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he hushed out, his hips snapping more. “Feels so good.”

He began to move deeper, harder, sharper. You clutched at his giant arms, your legs tightening around his waist as his hips cracked more. You felt his muscles tighten, a slight warning of him crashing down to his peak.

Your toes curled. Entwining up with the sensations spreading all over your body, pounding at your sensitive ears. You could hear everything. Feel everything. Taste everything.

He’s reclaiming you. His hips fully abusing your hips and thighs. His groans and tightened jaw were a sight to see. His eyes shut closed as his body tightened up.

“Come for me.” he says, “I know you need to, love.”

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Yet another pleasure crash came over you, consuming you again, and at that, with a bellow that shook to your very core, your orgasm took you by surprise with a scream.

His voice lowers down. His hips sped up even more as your toes curled and head rolled back - eyes seeing white. Your nails dug into his back.

You felt Simon stiffen. The warmth of his spent filling you. His hips spasmed and jerked, his jaw clenching with a long groan, his eyes screwed shut as you felt hot liquid rush inside you, stuffing you full. Even as he pressed his hips tightly against yours, still grinding at the pleasure, you were a moaning mess.

When he finished, he let out a soft sigh. Still sitting inside you, he prepped kisses all over your neck, sliding his tongue with your sweaty skin and dug his nose into it. You felt him mumble some words, but you paid no attention.

Slowly pulling back, making sure to not overwhelm you, he let you back on the ground. Simon had his hands on your waist, ensuring you were still there - almost as if he loosened his grip, even by a grain of salt, you’d disappear.

“That was…” You went to say something, but with dopamine and adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your brain was left blank - possibly melting.

Simon chuckled, leaning over to kiss your forehead before looking you directly in the eye. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Jus’ tired and cold.”

He nodded, adjusting his pants and getting dressed. Belting his pants back up before crouching down to grab your clothes that were thrown on the floor. Standing back up, he handed them to you.

“You should get dressed,” He said.

“Not in the mood to stain my clothes,” You laughed, running your fingertips over your collarbone that was stained with sweat. Simon looked down between your legs, before looking behind you as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“You need to get dressed.” He grabbed the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it off of him as he prompted you to raise your arms. Nonetheless, Simon’s smell gave you an undying amount of comfort. Shoving your arms through the sleeves, he helped you get your head through the top hole before adjusting the bottom of the fabric, making sure it covered you whole.

And that it did. You marvel at how large the damn hoodie is, your fingertips barely peeking at the ends of the sleeves and the end of the hoodie covering most of your thighs. It was astonishing.

“Hey, where’s my—!” Before you could finish the question about your phone, you yelped - feeling yourself get picked off the ground. You were picked up by Ghost, being rested in his arms as he held you with such care. Making sure you were comfortable before resting your head on his chest.

You could feel his heart thumping - picking a beat at the sound of drums. Like tapping your fingers at your desk as you studied a book scenario. It was comforting.

“Why– where are we going?” You asked, looking up at him with a face of confusion as he adjusted his mask; his eyes peering down at you from the balaclava.

“M’ taking you home.” He stated, his hands curling more around your body.

You blinked at him, surprised.

“Home? You don’t even know where my apartment is. How would you—?”

“—You’re gonna stay with me,” he clarifies, ducking his head as the both of you started walking away from the alleyway. Slight embarrassment rises in your cheeks as you realized you just fucked in an alleyway. Not the first time with him.

You huffed out an annoyed sigh, you replied with a quick answer, “That’s not what I meant. Where are we going?”

There was only silence after that, and you had worried that maybe you pushed too far. Possibly angered him. After calling his name twice and no answer coming forward, you decided to quit asking.

You slid your arms around his neck, paying no attention to your surroundings. Unintentionally, you dug your face into his shoulder, taking a deep inhale before you listened to the wind; admiring how quiet it was.

Surely, you could see a smug smirk trail against Simon’s face - but you paid no attention. You were tired. Exhausted at best.

Suddenly, you heard a car; a truck gets unlocked from behind you. You were prompted to look, but when you got sight of the black Chevy truck, suddenly the door being opened by Simon and you being placed in the passenger seat beside the driver, you slumped into the seat.

You waited for him to climb in. Hearing the backdoor to your left open and shut loudly before you heard him get in. He shuffled in his seat, reaching over to buckle in his seatbelt before looking in your direction.

“Here.”

You looked at his hand, a huge white wool blanket being handed to you. You grabbed it, the fabric practically melting into your fingers. It was so soft. And smelled like him too.

You heard Simon chuckle at your reaction before starting up the truck, turning down the radio to ensure you were comfortable. He put on the heaters - readjusting the way of direction to blow so it could puff directly at you.

“Tomorrow, we’ll stop and get your stuff. From now on, you’ll stay with me.”

You nodded. Not saying anything. But when you tucked into the blanket around your form, making sure it covered your shoulders and legs, you felt his hand move over, gripping your thigh as he squeezed three times; his way of saying, ‘I love you’.

It made you smile. Turning your sight over to look into the side mirror, you watched as your town got further away. The lights turned into small gusts of balls as you watched the road become thinner and thinner. Before turning into nothing but a small pan of memories.

You lay there a long time, just listening to the sound of the music and the occasional blinking of the car to signal changing lanes. It was until you found yourself slipping into sleep right after a few minutes. Turned out you’d missed the contact as much as he had. It was probably for the best, that you stayed with him for a while.

Not that he’d let you go.

—

My masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

2K notes · View notes

springlockscars · 6 months

Text

oral fixation (w.afton/fem!reader)

pairing: william afton | steve raglan/fem!reader content tags: oral fixation, oral sex, body worship, pussy eating, tongue fucking, praise kink, william can not keep his mouth off you. summary: William has an obsessive habit of chewing and biting things, especially when he's stressed. You interrupt his work at just the right time. word count: 2,898 read on AO3

18+ content below cut. minors do not interact.

note: I am so glad I received this because I love oral fixation fics.

In public, Steve’s mannerisms, his facial expressions, were a well-rehearsed performance. Not a single person would be able to see the crime scene he cleaned up a week ago through the crease in his eyebrows, or the screams of a victim he still heard ringing in his ears in the way he sipped bitter coffee from a chipped mug; they simply were not there.

No, Steve Raglan was an ordinary guy. A little peculiar perhaps. Sometimes he tried a little too hard to be funny, and that affinity he seems to have for rabbit themed memorabilia could be classed as odd to some. Aside from that, Career Councillor Steve Raglan acted no differently to any other employee in the office.

In private, however, the comfort of his own home or even the privacy the closed door of his office provides, William Afton wore his thoughts externally like he wore the sleeves of his shirt. William would chew on the plastic end of a pen while pouring over a client’s file; agonising over how he was supposed to find suitable employment for a 37-year-old with only a high-school education, a criminal record and a 9-year unexplained gap in his employment history.

He would light up a cigarette or two, rolling the paper filter between his lips, biting it carefully with his teeth while sketching concept blueprints for a new animatronic design, trying to seamlessly integrate a dispenser for a knockout gas that wouldn’t be overtly noticeable.

William would bite his nails and chew his lips when you were out late and not responding to his calls or texts, crashing those worried lips to yours as soon as you’d come through the door. “My phone died and I had to stay late, you don’t have to worry I’m safe.” “All manner of dangerous people are out there,” he sighed your name, “can you use a coworker’s phone to call me if it happens next time? I hate to be sitting on the edge of my seat wondering if someone is hurting my girl.”

It was now that William was deep in thought, a half burned out cigarette resting in between his lips. He was tweaking some finer details on an endoskeleton hand, wanting it to have more precise movements, he had said before heading into his garage workshop. That was over five hours ago and the dinner you decided to make him was almost ready.

You watched him from the doorway. The ashtray showing he was on at least his third cigarette; he was stressed. Stepping over boxes and piles of scrap metal, you made your way over to him, resting a palm flat against his back.

“You’re tense,” you said quietly, smoothing your hand over the expanse of his rigid back.

William leaned into your touch but didn’t stop working. You took the chance to gently work out some of the knots in his muscles while he manipulated the metal on the bench, the cigarette still in between his lips. Watching as he moved it between his teeth from the left to the right side of his mouth, flicking it with his tongue and inhaling deeply.

You moved from behind him to lean on the edge of the desk, facing him now. Mentally crossing your fingers in the hopes he wouldn’t snap at you, you take the cigarette from his mouth, immediately drawing his attention. You raise your eyebrows teasingly, bringing the mauled butt to your own lips to take a drag.

“Dinners almost ready,” you exhale the smoke over your shoulder away from him.

A smirk on his lips, “What time is it?” he asks, placing his tools down and finally sitting up straight to stretch out his aching back muscles, twisting his neck side to side. He takes the endoskeleton hand from the desk and places it gently in a box, moving it to a shelf out of the way for now.

“11:41pm, according to the clock in here,” you inhale one more time, feeling the buzz in your head, before passing it back to William who takes the almost finished cigarette graciously. He seems way more interested in it now that it’s been between your lips.

He leans back in his chair, removing his glasses to rub his fatigued eyes then tossing them on the desk. He places the cigarette back between his lips to take a deep, satisfying drag, then stubs it out in the ashtray next to the rest. William exhales, smoke briefly clouding your vision as he reaches for your hips and pulls you down onto his lap, holding you tightly in his calloused hands. One holding your waist, the other gripping your thigh.

William nuzzles into the curve of your neck, nose and scratchy facial hair tickling your sensitive skin. He smiles when he can feel your heartbeat against his lips. He places a kiss, then two. Tracing the tip of his tongue from collarbone to ear, pressing a kiss in the space behind your ear and sweeping your hair back out of the way. You live for these moments. The way he dotes on you and worships every inch of you like a piece of fine art.

“I’m sorry I was distracted in here. Have I been neglecting my girl?” William nips the lobe of your ear with his teeth, before kissing a path down the juncture of your neck again.

“Could tell you were stressed,” your breathing heavy, “you need a break.”

“Hmm,” he responds against your skin.

He kisses firmer, harder, more intensely until he’s sucking a bruise into the delicate skin. The way you feel against him, the way you taste on his tongue. More, is all he can think, closer…

He swivels in his desk chair and guides you onto the hard wooden surface of his workbench, sweeping nuts and bolts, welded pieces of metal and wires out of the way. Some clattering to the ground, but he doesn’t care about that right now. William stands, his 6ft 4” frame towering over you as he leans down, gripping your waist with both hands, and connects his lips to yours.

You can’t help but moan obscenely into the kiss. The ferocity and desperation of his lips moulding against yours has you instinctively grinding your hips against his. Wiliam deepens the kiss, his hot tongue sliding over yours, exploring your mouth and bending you into submission. The kiss tastes like the tobacco you both shared, giving you the same pleasant buzz. He bites at your plush lower lip, pulling it with his teeth enough to make it to puff up and redden.

William leans back slightly to get a better look at you; your hair dishevelled, lips swollen and glistening, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

“So beautiful,” he stoops back down, lips connecting to your jaw before nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck again enough to bruise, traveling down to the collar of your shirt.

William slides his skilled hands underneath the fabric, caressing the skin there up to where he can feel your bra. He pushes your shirt higher, up over your chest, off your shoulders and over your head, paying no mind to where it falls.

Immediately, his lips connect to the soft skin of your breast poking out of the top of your underwear. Biting and sucking hard, desperately needing to touch you, to mark you everywhere his lips will reach. His warm hands snake underneath your back to unclasp your bra. He pulls the elastic straps down your arms and discards the garment on the ground, bending further at the waist to bring a nipple into his mouth.

Your back arches into his touch, one hand gripping the back of his head by his hair, the other finding purchase on the workbench by your head to keep you steady. William sucks and bites down on your nipple, bringing it to a hard peak. He moves all around the soft flesh, nipping and leaving bruises. With no pens to chew on and the cigarettes discarded, your body was his distraction from his frustrations and worries right now. Not that this would be the first time.

William moves across your chest to give your other breast equal attention. He bites down on your nipple hard enough for you to gasp and tighten your grip on his hair. He glares up at you through hooded eyes, not angry, but amused.

Whilst caressing and kneading the flesh of your breasts, he moves lower down your body, nipping at your torso and abdomen, leaving a trail of little red marks as he goes. He teasingly kisses the skin just above the waistband of your trousers. Deciding to speed things up he hooks his fingers into the hem and pulls them swiftly down your legs, leaving you in only your panties on top of his work bench.

William smooths his thumbs over your hips where your underwear sits. Continuing his goal of kissing every inch of you, he presses his lips to your mound, moving lower and lower, until he’s kissing right over your clothed clit.

A rush of adrenaline courses through your body, arching once again into his touch. William, however, moves away from the area you need him most. He sits back down in his desk chair, giving him the perfect angle to place hot, open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, marring the area shades of bright red and deep purple with his lips and tongue.

Once he deems your thighs suitably marked, he pushes your legs further apart for him to gain access to the area you both need him the most. William runs two fingers down your clothed slit, a grin forming when he sees your arousal seep through the fabric. He teases you like this; tracing over your clit with his fingers, pushing into your entrance as far as the fabric of your underwear will allow. Watching you squirm on his desk, begging for a release.

William finds himself becoming impatient, biting on the skin of his lips, he needs you in his mouth again like an addict craving a fix. He finally lowers his face back down to your core, running his lips across your clothed mound before, with no warning, biting down in the area he knows your clit will be. You scream and arch dramatically off the desk, a hand coming to grip his hair. He smirks up at you, eyes swimming with lust and feeling pride surge in his chest. Nobody else could make you feel like this. Nobody but him.

William flattens his tongue over your clit through your panties as you come down from the electric jolt of pleasure. His saliva soaking through the fabric to your skin underneath, mixing with your arousal. The material of your underwear becomes smooth under William’s tongue, clinging to every dip and curve of your cunt as his hands grip your thighs tight.

“Oh fuck, Will…” you whined.

He hums against you, sliding closer to the desk on the chair and hooking his thumbs under the crotch of your panties. The cool air making goosebumps spread all over your body as it hits your wet core. William holds the fabric to one side, granting him access to tease your pussy while you writhe and moan beneath him. Noticing your reaction to the cold air of the garage, he blows against your cunt, grinning when he hears pathetic whimpers slip past your lips, and he watches you clench around nothing.

He moves closer and takes the swollen flesh of your labia between his teeth, biting ever so slightly. Just enough to make you squirm and moan his name. William sucks the flesh into his mouth hard enough to leave yet another bruise to match the many others that are scattered all over your body. The rough sensation of his facial hair causing the heat to stir low in your abdomen.

Once a suitable mark has been formed, William shifts his attention slightly higher. Flicking his long tongue over your clit, finally making contact skin-to-skin. One of your thighs rested on his shoulder with his arm wrapped underneath, holding you securely at the hip, with his other arm laying on top of your hips, holding your panties to the side to give him direct and uninterrupted access.

“Oh my god!” your own hands come down to grasp at his, feeling that heat intensifying inside you.

William doesn’t stop for a second. He sucks expertly on your clit until you’re writhing against his face. He moves lower and plunges his long tongue deep inside your tight hole. Your grip on his hands tightens as you arch into his mouth. Your upper arms pressing your breasts together, feeling the tenderness on the skin from the assault he laid into them moments ago.

William loves the way you taste, and he resolves to lap up every last drop of your arousal like it was his final meal on death row. He licks a stripe the entire way up your cunt from entrance to clit, before wiggling his tongue back inside, rhythmically stroking your walls. His breath is hot between your legs.

A sweat breaks out over your skin, you pant desperately as William builds your climax, stroke by tantalizing stroke of his tongue. He grips your thighs hard in his hands, bruising handprints holding them in place on his shoulders as you try to grind down against his face.

He eats you out like a man starved; routinely thrusting his tongue deep inside, moving it to circle your clit, pressing flat and teasing with the tip, biting and sucking intensely on your clit and labia before moving back to fuck you with his tongue — all while his facial hair scratches you so delightfully, only adding to the stimulation.

The heat is intensifying. You can feel your muscles begin to tense, twitching uncontrollably against William’s face as your climax takes over your body.

“A-ah, fuck! Oh fuck, Will!” you cried out, chest heaving as you pant and gasp for air.

William strokes your thighs encouragingly, breaking away from your core for a moment.

“Let go for me, baby. Come for me, that’s it,” he dives back in, coaxing you higher and higher, his nose bumping your clit. He loves hearing you cry and squirm at the mercy of his control.

Everything tightens and tightens, reaching an apex until there’s nowhere left to climb, and then you finally snap. Screaming William’s name as your muscles spasm, jolting your entire body. Your thighs tremble at either side of his head. William grips you tight, rhythmically pulsing his tongue inside and helping you ride out your orgasm. Shocks radiate throughout your body, your abdomen twitching and tensing with every clench of your walls.

William finally pulls back, laying gentle kisses to your inner thighs and caressing over your hip bones with his thumbs affectionately.

“Good girl,” he soothes, “good girl, you did so well for me. So good.”

You lay there completely bare on his desk, eyes closed, breathing deep and feeling light headed as you come down from the intense high he gave you. A smile creeping onto your face and a warmth spreading in your chest at his words of praise.

William takes your thighs from his shoulders, stands, and rests your legs on his desk chair. He presses a brief kiss to your abdomen, then higher in the valley between your breasts, your neck, jaw, then finally pecking your lips before deepening the kiss and allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. You just begin to run your hands through his hair when he leans back.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” he said.

You narrowed your eyebrows, confused as he stepped away.

“Give me one minute, I’m coming straight back.”

You hear him cross the room in wide strides, then the sound of his footsteps as he ascends the stairs in the house. Only moments later, his footsteps drum down the stairs and enter back into the garage.

William drapes something soft over your body; the blanket from your bed. He helps you sit up and pulls the blanket snug around you, then holds you steady as your legs tremble beneath you when you try to stand.

“Woah, easy. Sit here for a sec,” he guides you to his chair, easing you down into the worn seat.

“Thanks,” you sigh, “that was… intense.”

He leans against the desk facing you, the side of your legs pressed against his, “too much?”

“No! No, definitely not. It was good,” you feel warmth creep up your cheeks.

“Good,” William smiles. He swivels the chair and pulls you against him from where you’re sat, your head leaning against his stomach.

“Did it help?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “you’re not biting your lip or lighting up another cigarette.”

He chuckles, “oh, it helped. Definitely way less stressed.”

“Good.”

William cups your face in his palm and leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“C’mon, we should go inside. It’s getting cold tonight,” he says, “and didn’t you say something about dinner?”

William gathers your discarded clothes from the floor and offers you an arm to hold, leading you out of the garage and back into the warmth of the house where luckily, there was no smoke billowing out of the kitchen.

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf smut #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #five nights at freddy's #steve raglan #my works

611 notes · View notes

allbark-no-bite · 7 months

Text

Ignorance is Bliss || Coriolanus Snow x reader

summary: there’s something to love about the simplicity of boyhood. or in which there’s still good in Coriolanus and you love him

warnings: none really. this is just self-indulgent fluff. maybe slight mention of smut

word count: 1.3k

authors note: okay first of all ik everyone here spells it Coryo, but i much prefer Corio. the Hunger Games was the first ever fandom that i wrote for nearly 8 years ago (please don’t read my wattpad) and i’m so excited to have an up to date fic posted on here! the Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes revived my love for the series and i hope you all enjoy :)

The sky shifts from a faint blue to yellow with the approaching evening light. In just a few minutes the swarms of awakening insects will be almost too much to bear. He swallows, and the combination of his dry mouth and the lack of humidity makes it feel as though his throat sticks together with the action. Being so deep in the forest, away from the rest of civilization, the air out here is so fresh that just breathing it is dizzying.

By now he's so used to the polluted air of District 12 that this sort of clarity is a startling but welcomed reprieve. In the Capitol, he'd grown up hearing stories of the miners in 12 who would eventually succumb to the horrific fate of suffocation, their lungs black from years of inhaling coal dust. Even after just a few months of being assigned as a peacekeeper to the district, the undersides of his fingernails had turned permanently black with the dust.

The games are far from his mind these days—at least most of the time they are. He has done his best to put those horrors in the past. He is no longer a Capitol student, fighting to prove that he belongs there in his hand me down shoes and shirts with buttons made of bathroom tile. Those days now seem like an entirely different lifetime.

His heart rate slows to the point that his chest hardly rises, and his only sign of consciousness is the occasional flicker of his eyes as he fights to keep from dozing off. He lies there watching the sky and counts the hours until the sun is swallowed by the horizon.

It's considerably quiet save for the breeze moving through the leaves of the trees overhead and the occasional snap of a twig underfoot of a forest animal. Five more minutes and he'll get up.

Movement at his side makes him grunt. It's not much, just a shifting of weight, but it still forces a puff of air out of him. Underneath the cream undershirt of his uniform is a mess of slowly healing, raw pink flesh. His body still hurts from weeks ago.

The district boy's spear had stabbed straight through the muscle of his shoulder and was rapidly on the mend thanks to Dr. Gaul. The burns on his back were healing on their own accord, albeit slower than he would have liked. All things considering, his wounds had been relatively insignificant.

He had seen tributes sustain much worse things in the games before. He'd take a couple of burns over a severed head any day.

This time the weight lifts almost completely from crevice of his side and his attention shifts to the body beside him. You'd been curled up, asleep at his side the the better part of an hour.

"Where are you—" His question is cut off as your weight returns, this time into the pit of his stomach, curling up against the curve of his lean body. It half knocks the breath out of him. You have the tendency to do that to him.

With your cheek pressed into his gut, your hand reaches out for his own and he willingly complies, linking his slender fingers with your own. Perhaps you don't realize it but this is the same way he first touched you, hand in hand back in the zoo, and it will always mean more than anything to him. It is this thought that causes him to bring your wrist to his mouth and press his lips against it.

His mouth is warm against your skin, and even if you don't know exactly where the gesture of affection came from, you reciprocate it with the same tenderness.

"What are you thinking about?" You finally ask, breaking a long hour of comfortable silence.

You.

Rather than answering, Coriolanus hums in acknowledgment of your question. "Corio—" At the same time, he swings his leg over your hip, switching positions so that his body is hovering above your own.

"Hi."

You grin, fingers grabbing hold of the cool metal of his dog tags that hang down from his neck.

"Hi."

Looking pleased with himself, he dips his head down, capturing your lips with his own. You were his, and he was constantly refiguring that out.

The kiss is sweet, tamer than what you're used to from him. Not that he's ever been unpleasant, you adored Coriolanus and just about everything about him. But he was a man. A boy growing into a man and that came it, its own boyish tendencies. Regardless, rarely ever did you discourage his wandering hands.

You can't help but smile at the feel of his lean, brawny body pressed against yours. He'd been thin with hunger back at the Capitol. His time in District 12 training as a peacekeeper had done him well. Not only had he become sturdier with muscle, but somehow taller too. One of his legs is wedged between your own, and through his trousers you can feel him, half hard with interest.

Coriolanus pulls away from the kiss at the feel of your lips pulled into a smile. His brows furrow together in confusion, but your smile is infectious and soon enough his own frown is tilted upwards. "What? What are you smiling about?"

You attempt to subdue your grin at his inquiry, but it's to little avail, and that only drives his insistence. "(Y/n). What've I done?"

"Nothing," you laugh, a palm coming up to cup the side of his jaw so that your thumb can smooth over the sharp protrusion of his cheekbone. Normally the action would be enough to distract him, but he's persistent.

"(Y/n)."

“Really, it's nothing," you insist. "I just... I love you." That is what you settle on. I love you.

You love the naivety in which he is able to love. Pure and untainted by heartbreak. Too young to know much at all. Even too inexperienced to realize that there were more ways to satisfy his desire for you than just kissing. His body wanted you in the way that a man wanted a woman, and while he surely felt the effects of that attraction, his pure intentions had yet to stray.

Coriolanus' clear blue eyes narrow in slight skepticism but he doesn't press you any further. "I love you too," he says, lifting his hand to slip his fingers into your hair and massage at the base of your scalp. At the same time, his thumb presses up into your jaw, tilting your chin upwards so that he can kiss you again.

This time you indulge him further and kiss him back a bit more forcefully than before. Your hand finds the short crop of his blonde hair, and like a cat preening under the attention, his body reacts in tandem. He half snorts in amusement at your reciprocation but doesn't comment, too pleased to pull away long enough to taunt you.

Coriolanus takes it upon himself to deepen the kiss, the force of his lips upon yours not yet bruising but certainly heading there. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring the taste of your mouth. At the same time, one of his slender hands slides down your side, his fingers grasping at the curve of your hip.

The day will come that his desires get the best of him, and he’ll want more of you. Frivolous things such as the wrestling and the making out that the two of you do now won’t satisfy him later. And while the thought doesn’t bother you, it’s nice what you have with him now. It’s so simple and so easy to love him and his still boyish self now. The time will come eventually, and that’s okay. You’ve got a lifetime together after all.

#coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #young!coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games

982 notes · View notes

royaltozaki · 22 days

Text

you can kiss a hundred boys in bars

synopsis: good luck, babe! - inspired fic (essentially sana left 6 years ago and you still can't stop thinking about her even though you're married to another man)

warnings: cheating, internalised homophobia, not chronological, implied sex, cursing

w/c: 6.4k

a/n: hi 😀 this one may not hit as many of the audiences but it was interesting to write. i zon't think i like it toooo much for how much time i spent on it (edit: the moots have made my day i do like this one a lot actually) but just one of those things i needed to get out before i was able to move on to the next thing :P weeeEEEEHHEEEE i love angst!!!!!!!

ok this one's going to be a bit different guys pls READ THIS or you'll be like what the fuck. purple text is the present. ty enjoy, that was it LOL.

▂▂⌇

you wake up with a migraine. it came not long after you married frank and it’s stayed ever since. you sit up on the bed, careful not to make too much movement or sound to wake your husband next to you. although that was pretty unlikely anyway considering how he slept.

you sigh lightly, holding your head in your hands trying to mitigate the damage.

your head starts drifting off, as it did on most nights these days. it seemed the only thing that ever worked to stop the pounding in your head was thinking about her.

▂▂⌇

funnily enough, sana was actually the reason you and frank had met.

it had happened when the both of you were at a bar after class celebrating the end of exams. sana being sana had made a whole group of friends 10 minutes upon entering the establishment. you were sitting back watching her challenge someone to down the most shots in one minute. you would have stopped her on another day but after the hell week she's been through with her finals, you figured she deserved it. and you'd be there to take her home afterwards anyway.

she's whooping and jumping around, turning back to you with a grin when she wins. the poor loser skulking away back to his friends.

frank goes up to her then. introducing himself with that kind voice of his, just making sure she had someone to go home with and look after her.

and sana adored the attention. she's flirting with that charm of hers that no one could resist. but strangely enough, frank resisted. he was a gentleman, not wanting to pursue anything while sana was intoxicated, instead, he asked who could look after her, and sana points to you.

▂▂⌇

you're not getting back to sleep. instead you silently step out of bed, grabbing your phone and the hidden pack of cigarettes you kept in the second drawer of your bedside cupboard.

you step outside onto the balcony, breathing in the cool night air, shivering a little as you wrap the blanket you left on the balcony chair around you.

you click the lighter on, the small flame illuminating the darkness of the night, the only other light source aside from the moon. you're thinking if sana's somewhere she can see the moon right now while you put the lighter to the end of your cigarette. is it night for her? was she asleep? did she ever think about you?

you bring the stick to your mouth, inhaling, feeling the roughness of the nicotine hit your lungs, and exhaling softly, watching the wisps of smoke dissolve into the night sky.

sana hated when you smoked. frank didn't like it too much either, but he was never able to stop you.

▂▂⌇

"do you have to do that here?" sana's frowning when you release a puff of smoke into the air.

"sorry. stressed." you mumble in response, cig still stuck between your lips.

"you know i can help with that. just not when you taste like an ashtray." sana's still staring at the cancer stick you're sucking on with contempt, she never hated anything but if you had to place your money on something it'd be your bad habit.

you're smiling sheepishly, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and smooshing the end until it's not burning anymore.

the frown on her face is gone immediately, she's charmed you listen to her so easily. and she sticks to her word, stepping closer and leaning in.

your lips meet lazily, she's got a hand on your cheek, the other at your waist. you're wrapping your arms around her hips, holding her against you as your lips slot against each other.

sana was an attractive woman. there was no doubt about that. the two of you had met during high school. she had caught you sneaking off for a smoke during P.E. and had somehow convinced you to go and get your nails done with her instead. ever since then you two had been inseperable.

it was after you broke up with your first boyfriend in college that you started sleeping together. you remember he had decided to call it off because he was going all mormon and was ashamed of having had sex already, calling you a 'sex-addicted whore who was sent by the devil to tempt him into the flames of hell'. sana despised that he made you feel unwanted, and even more that he blamed you for the break up. she needed you to know just how valued you were, just how wanted you were, and in her drunk dazed mind that meant worshipping you until you came crying under her. and in your drunk dazed, heartbroken, self-pitying mind, you let her.

when it happened again, and again, and again, and then not under any alcoholic influence, the both of you decided to continue seeking each other out for sexual relief whenever you were stressed, or in any sort of mood that called for sex. you stopped every time one of you started a new relationship, but you always found your way back into each other's arms eventually.

▂▂⌇

you curse lightly when you reach the end of your cigarette.

picking out another one, you’re repeating your actions, lighting it up, bringing it between your lips, inhaling, feeling it fill your lungs, and then pushing it back out.

there hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by where you hadn’t thought about sana. frank didn’t get it at first. he asked you why you couldn’t just call her, you two were the best of friends, surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to reconnect?

he didn’t know you slept with sana on the night of you and frank’s wedding. doesn’t know the countless times you’ve slept with her before that. doesn’t know sana woke up earlier than you the next day, disappearing into the early morning, no note, no text, nothing. you were too ashamed to try and contact her for weeks after that, it wasn’t until you came back from your honeymoon that you realised you were knocking on an empty door when you tried to find her at her apartment. it was cleaned out, no furniture, no remnants of her, nothing to prove she even existed. you had called her over and over, tears of desperation spilling over, holding back choked sobs that only grew stronger with each voicemail message.

it wasn't until sana's old landlord holding a 'for lease' sign in his hand comes and kicks you out that you finally realise you'd lost her.

after that, your relationship with frank started to deteriorate. what did you expect though? was it sana's fault? if sana hadn't left would you have lived happily ever after, the three of you together?

it took a long time to realise the answer to that was no. you spent years blaming sana for leaving, and when you finally came to the terms that you were the one who drove her away, it was too much to bear.

▂▂⌇

"y/n!"

you smile at the sound of sana calling you in the corridor, turning to meet her hug as she crashes into you.

she starts talking your ear off and you nod along enthusiastically, but suddenly she stops, looks down to your hand, intertwined with someone else's.

"oh. who's this y/n?"

you look over at your newest boyfriend in surprise, almost forgetting he was holding your hand and standing next to you. you tended to forget a lot of things when sana was around.

"oh this is danny. we met at that bar i told you about last week remember?"

"hmm..." she's looking up at him in scrutiny, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. you can feel danny's palms start to sweat under her gaze.

"one week huh? not bad, let's see how long you last, if you go longer than a month then i'll introduce myself to you." sana says then.

"sana!" you're hitting her lightly, flabbergasted at her insinuation.

"what? your last one was like 3 days. you just keep breaking these guys' hearts y/n." she places a hand over her heart dramatically.

danny's tightening his grip around your hand, speaking up, "excuse me, i don’t appreciate you wishing doom on our relationship even before its started. and i wouldn’t want to be introduced to a slut who’s never had a real relationship before anyway.”

sana’s speechless for a second but her face morphs into a scowl quickly after, “okay danny,” spitting out his name, “first rule of being a decent boyfriend? don’t talk shit about your girlfriend’s best friends. let’s see you last another hour after that comment.” she turns to you, raising an eyebrow, “you gonna let him off with that y/n?”

you’re stuck, and danny’s looking at you expectantly.

“sana… that comment was a little uncalled for y’know… you did kinda start this…”

danny’s smirking, looking smugly back towards sana.

“what?! are you serious right now y/n? y’know what? i don’t care. your life and whatever. see you later.” she’s stomping off, your heart sinking as you watch her.

“c’mon babe, forget her. let’s go get sushi.” danny doesn’t wait for a response before he’s pulling you in the other direction.

▂▂⌇

when you wake up again the next day, frank’s gone.

you stumble to your feet, clumsily making your way to the bathroom.

it’s almost late afternoon already. you’re lucky you didn’t have work today.

sana always used to scold you if you woke up past noon. she said you'd waste the whole day sleeping when you could have been spending it with her.

these days the second option wasn't exactly viable.

you cringe a little when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. unkempt hair, dark circles under your eyes, visible signs of ageing. you'd bet sana still looked as radiant as she was all those years ago.

your phone starts buzzing when you turn on your electric toothbrush. it couldn't be anyone else other than frank. you didn't really talk to anyone else anyway. after sana left, you became a social recluse, and a lot of your friends were technically sana's friends so without that mutual connection anymore, you drifted from them very quickly.

“hello?”

“hey y/n, is my white button-up back from the dry cleaners yet? i need it tonight for this work event.”

“… no you didn’t tell me to pick anything up.”

“what? i left a note for you on the fridge did you not see it?”

“i just woke up frank.”

“it’s 2pm.”

“yeah.”

you can hear him sigh over the phone, “alright it’s fine i’ll pick it up after work.” he hangs up abruptly after he says that.

no goodbye, no i love you, he doesn’t call you by any pet names anymore either, just y/n. well it’s not like you did any of those things for him so you suppose it’s fair. he did do a lot of those things when you were dating and early in your marriage but eventually, when you stopped responding and got more and more tired of being with him, he stopped trying as well. you can’t even remember the last time you were intimate together.

frank had suggested the both of you try out marriage counselling but you were strongly against the idea. you didn’t feel particularly excited about disclosing everything that went on with sana with frank let alone with a complete stranger. you remember that week you fought about it and you ran away and didn’t come back until a month later. frank only tried to call you once during that time.

▂▂⌇

you were standing in front of an apartment door in japan.

you weren’t really thinking when you stood at the front desk of the airport, demanding a ticket for the next flight to osaka with only a small backpack and some essentials you were able to grab after your fight with frank.

it wasn’t until you were physically in the plane that you realised you didn’t actually know anyone but sana there. and you had made that unconscious decision because being with frank was simply too… nothing, and being with sana was… everything. it had been over 6 years since you had seen her last, when she left you that quiet night in may.

though it seems fate was on your side this time. sana’s cousin just happened to be working at the airport the night you arrived, when she recognised you, she was waving excitedly, ushering you over.

“y/n right? oh my goodness i haven’t seen you in so long! not since that time sana brought you here 7 years ago right?” her accent is a little thick but you’re grateful she can speak korean regardless, you could only understand very basic japanese picked up from sana.

you’re nervously rubbing the back of your neck, “ahaha yeah… do you actually happen to have sana’s address?”

she frowns a little, “she didn’t give it to you when she found out you were coming?”

it seems like sana hasn’t told many people about your relationship with her either.

“u-um ahaha no she must have forgotten. you know how she gets… too excited she forgets the important little details.”

the cousin laughs a little in response, agreeing and quickly typing in sana’s address on your phone. internally you’re thanking all the gods and deities you know of for this stroke of luck or you’d really be stranded in osaka with no knowledge of the language and nowhere to stay.

“i have to get back to work but say hi to sana for me! we haven’t seen her much since she came back a few years ago, she’s been really busy with work i think.”

you nod, heart pounding at the tidbits of information you’re getting about sana. anything to fill in the 6 year gap you’ve been apart.

you wave goodbye, thanking her again and then you’re hailing down a taxi and showing the driver the destination on your phone.

so now you’re standing in front of her apartment door, hands sweaty and nervous, just praying she wouldn’t kick you out or worse.

you’ve been standing here stupidly, deliberating when, how, if you should even knock. when there’s a slight commotion to your left, the sound of a bag of groceries dropping and a light gasp.

“y/n?”

it’s very cinematic when you turn, sana coming into view for the first time in so long is like finding water in a desert. you’re drinking her in hungrily, her darker hair, smile lines, perfect nose, she looks just as beautiful as you remember.

“sana…” you’re voice is hoarse with emotion.

she’s taking slow steps towards you after picking up her groceries. one… two…

“what are you doing here?”

“i-i- u-um i-“

“how did you get my address?”

“u-um i saw y-your cousin at the airport and she recognised me and i- i may have asked her for your address... i'm sorry! i would have called or like let you know but... y'know... i-i couldn't really do that..."

she considers you for a little bit, looking you up and down, her face stoic.

"...did you come here for something then?"

"i- um- well not really it was k-kinda an impulse decision. u-um frank and i fought and i just- i don't know i went to the airport and i found myself here i guess..."

you notice how her hand tightens at the mention of frank's name, the slight sound of the crinkling of her grocery bag.

"and what did you want me to do about that?" she's pushing past you now, taking out her keys and starting to unlock her door. you begin to panic, scrambling for words.

"i- sana please! i- i'm sorry! i'm sorry okay?"

the jingling of her keys stops, but she doesn't look back at you.

"what are you sorry for? i'm the one who left remember?" her voice is bitter and a little shaky, you realise she's not facing you because she's trying not to cry. you ache to hold her.

"i… i’m the reason you left though. right? it took me a long time to realise but i’m sorry i wasn’t able to be true to myself and i’m sorry you were a casualty to that. i missed you sana…." your voice is quiet, you feel your own tears welling up in your eyes.

“… what weren’t you true to yourself about?”

you take a big inhale, breath shaky when you let it back out. “that i love you.” your voice is tiny, you just confessed your love for the woman you’ve spent most of your life with, the woman that’s occupied your mind every second of every minute since she’s entered your life. the woman you were too scared to admit you loved, who waited for you to do exactly that only for you to enter a loveless marriage with someone else. you can only imagine the pain you’ve put her through. it would be nothing compared to the last 6 years without her. and the last 6 years without sana were undoubtedly the worst of your life.

sana’s sniffling now, unable to hold back her cries.

you inch forward and tentatively place a hand on her shoulder. when she doesn’t move it, you shift closer again to wrap your arms around her loosely.

suddenly sana’s turning and burrowing her face in your neck, you feel her wet tears stain your skin, but also your own start to run down your face. you're surrounded with sana sana sana, her smell, her sounds, the feel of her against you when you tighten your arms around her. you missed this so fucking much. you missed her. and for the first time in 6 years, you finally felt like you were home again.

▂▂⌇

after you've finished your morning routine, you lazily trudge into the kitchen, discarding the small note frank had told you about, and pouring yourself a bowl of cereal.

you sigh into the empty house. frank wanted kids of course, that's why you bought such a large house in the first place. he had dreamt of the whole white-picket fence family and you were excited to share that with him and sana. she had helped you design the place, decorate it when you first moved in, she was meant to move across the street and you were going to grow old together and watch as your kids played around and became the best of friends, just like the two of you were.

now though? you hated this house. it just felt so much more empty. you and frank had tried for kids, although that only really drove you further apart. sex just became more of a chore than something you enjoyed, and when people know you're trying to get pregnant? suddenly everyone has their 2 cents on what you should eat, what types of exercise you should do, the latest superfood that was meant to make you more fertile. everyone seemed to have more control over your own relationship, over your own body than you did.

eventually, the small amounts of love you and frank had for each other, fizzled out. and you decided you didn't want to raise a child in a loveless marriage, that wouldn't be fair to them. frank, even with his endless optimism and kind soul, agreed.

▂▂⌇

that night in japan, for the first time in six years since you saw sana, you were able to kiss her again, to feel her bare skin against yours, to taste her as she writhed and cried out your name above you.

you woke up before her the next day, sun sluggishly making its way past the horizon. you watched as her breaths came in and out, soft, her expression at peace, not clouded with anger or sadness at you. you traced the lines of her face, recollecting every single hair, every mole, every perfection and imperfection on her, so she'd always be with you in your memory.

she stirred after a while, blinking softly and you wait for her to come to, fingers tracing soft lines over her side.

you feel her freeze under you, breathing picking up, just barely noticeable but you were sharing the same airspace. her eyes meet yours for the first time that morning and you're committing the brown irises to memory now as well.

"you didn't leave." her voice is laced with morning fatigue.

you only hum in response, continuing to trace random shapes into her skin.

"why?"

you take a moment to think about your answer. years ago, you would've been terrified with the idea that someone would've found out about the two of you. that someone would know your dirty little secret. and that secret was that you were in love with your best friend. it was different for sana. sana was flamboyant, and proud, and happy. it wouldn't matter who sana liked because that didn't take away from her personality. she was still valuable as a person. you weren't like that though. you were always just sana's best friend or danny's girlfriend or frank's girlfriend or whoever else you dated at the time. the moment you deviated from that, a new label would be stuck on you, and people would pity sana, talk about how she could do so much better, how you were a witch who lured sana in. so you were selfish. you took from sana, and you never gave back. because sana was perfect in your mind, and she didn't need anything else.

"i'm sorry. there's a lot to be sorry for and a lot i need to make up to you. but at the core of it all, i love you sana. these six years without you have been hell. and i'm sorry it took that long for me to realise this, but i love you, not frank, not anyone else, just you."

you feel your eyes begin to tear up, heavy with emotions, sana's mirroring you, her bottom lip slightly quivering.

"what happened with frank?" her voice is a little shaky.

"we fought. i didn't want to deal with him anymore, my feet took me to the airport, and i ended up here."

sana sighs then, turning away from you and lying on her back. "so you're still together?"

"well... i- no but-"

"how is this time any different then y/n?"

"i- i- it's over, me and him. seeing you again has affirmed that for me. there hasn't been love between frank and i for a long time. i never loved him the way i love you. i'm ending things as soon as i get back. i promise sana. please- please believe me." you're scrambling a little, you couldn't afford to lose sana again. not after you had just gotten her back.

you can see tears running down the side of her face. you hate yourself for making her cry. that seems to be all you ever made her do.

"okay."

"okay?"

she turns to you again, wiping at her eyes, "okay. i really shouldn't but i love you too much and i've missed you too much to say no."

"really?" your perking up, disbelief clear.

"you keep asking me that and i'll change my mind." she teases, smiling for the first time.

you're overjoyed. rolling onto her and sweeping her up in a kiss, hoping your actions convey your feelings for her better than your words do. she's laughing into you and god have you missed that sound. you attack her sides immediately, almost desperate to hear it again, to make her feel something other than the sadness you've caused her. you make a promise to yourself in that moment, that you'd never, never make sana cry again.

it took you only a month to break that promise.

▂▂⌇

"hi, frank's wife right?"

you resist the very strong urge to roll your eyes, instead nodding politely and listening as the woman who approached you launches into a conversation about her husband and how he and frank got along at work and really you couldn't care less.

you were at the work event frank had mentioned in the morning. he did end up picking up his own dry cleaning and you saw him briefly at the event when you first showed up, only saying a quick hello and kissing your cheek before he was off again mingling and entertaining guests.

you had intended on just sticking to the bar and making use of the free-flow alcohol but now this woman was talking to you about her kids, and whatever else and you really just want to throw your drink in her face and yell at her about how to read a room.

you spot frank in the corner of your eye, surrounded by a group of women. you knew he had slept with other people ever since you stopped accepting his advances and affection. you're honestly surprised he hasn't asked for a divorce yet.

but frank was kinder than you. you were still his friend before you were his wife. he still cared about you and didn't want you to be left alone. you couldn't seem to convince him you were fine alone. you learnt to be fine when sana left. although lately, even he seemed to see you less as a friend and more and more, just as his wife.

▂▂⌇

"i still can't believe that time you thought danny was a good choice for you. and you defended him too!" sana was laughing, slapping your arm playfully.

you whine in response, "i told you i was sorry for that alright!!"

she's still laughing when frank comes back to the two of you, looking at you inquisitively and gesturing vaguely towards sana. you shrug, helping him set the food he had ordered for the three of you on the table.

"what's funny sana?" he asks, sliding into the booth with you and picking up a burger.

sana's waving a chip around now, pointing at you, "just talking about y/n's shitty taste in men."

frank fakes shock, looking at you with an exaggerated look of hurt, "me?"

you laugh, hitting him lightly, "not you dummy."

"yeah you're one of the good ones franky. probably the only good one out there."

"aww thanks sana."

sana grins, digging into her food.

you smile at the two of them. your two favourite people in the world. when you first met frank, you were skeptical of him. you were sure he was only trying to be friends with you to get with sana. so imagine your surprise when he had actually been plotting with sana behind your back to ask you out. you had said yes of course, he was a sweet guy, attractive too, and most importantly, sana liked him.

you ended up hitting it off, and the three of you were almost inseparable after that.

it wasn't until about 7 months into your relationship that sana started distancing herself. she would say she was busy, turn down more offers to go out, start hanging around a new group of people.

you heard from frank later that they had some sort of disagreement, which was why sana had started avoiding you. you were hurt by this though, because sana was still your friend. she was yours before you were frank's, and even when you were frank's you were still hers. didn't she know that? she had to.

you intended for her to know that when you cornered her, a late afternoon on a friday when the three of you used to go out for ice-cream as a reward for the week's end, but she had been staying behind to study or always had something else on instead.

"why are you avoiding me?"

sana's eyes are everywhere, her movements skittish as she tries to look for an escape before giving up and huffing. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"yes you do."

"no i don't."

"stop this sana. frank told me the two of you fought. if you don't want to be around him fine. that's your choice. but that doesn't mean you get to avoid me too."

she looks at you then, eyes fiery, "is that what he told you?"

you nod, "i don't understand sana. i don't care that you fought. i can seperate us and my relationship with frank. you're still my best friend."

"we fought because he told me he felt like i was stealing you from him."

"what?"

"yeah. he said he never got to spend any time with you. i was always there. he felt like he was the one who was third-wheeling our relationship."

the words third-wheel and our relationship swim around in your mind, "w-what? that's impossible!"

"is it really though y/n?" sana's voice is soft now.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, is it really impossible for you to see us that way? frank obviously did, and he felt threatened by that."

"w-what- sana what are you talking about?"

she sighs a little in frustration, and then suddenly she's yanking you forward by the collar and planting her lips against yours. you react automatically, kissing her back, hands immediately going to her waist as you revel in the feeling of her soft lips against yours. it was always so different kissing sana compared to all the other guys you've been with. you chalked it up to the fact that sana took care of her skin, her lips, the way she smelled, all of that made kissing her that much sweeter.

but then you remember frank and you're pulling away, breaths heavier than they were mere seconds ago. "what the fuck sana?!" you're whipping your head around, looking to see if anyone had seen the two of you. it seemed to be clear.

sana's chuckling lowly, wiping at her lips, face downcast.

"what were you thinking?! i'm with frank! you set me up with frank!"

her eyes meet yours again, and you're taken back by the glassy look on her face. she's whispering, "i know. i know and i hate myself for it. i thought- i thought if- i thought i could get over this if i saw you happy with someone else. and then you were! and i just felt worse y/n. and then frank could tell and that was the last straw i guess. i needed to be away, away from you so i could get make these stupid feelings go away. i'm sorry y/n i'm so so sorry."

you're dumbfounded, staring at her blankly when she starts sobbing, hands coming to wipe at tears falling faster than she could catch them.

you don't understand what this means, what you felt, all you knew in that moment was sana was crying. the person you cared about most in the world was crying and you were the reason for it. so you do the one thing to make her stop. you tilt her chin up, heart breaking at the sniffles and the watery eyes, and you press your lips against hers again.

you end up where you've ended up so many times. legs entangled, sweaty bodies on sheets, heavy breathing, and minds lost.

▂▂⌇

you couldn't stand being inside anymore. it was suffocating.

you breathe out smoke as you exhale, the cigarette end still burning.

you watch as someone makes their way outside, shuffling around a little in their pockets and cursing when they realise they don't have a lighter.

the person looks towards you and you hold out yours. you help them light the end of their cigarette and nod when they mutter their thanks, inhaling the smoke into their lungs and standing awkwardly to the side.

it's a few minutes here in the cold, and you're almost finished your cigarette, about to throw it away when the stranger speaks up.

"do i know you from somewhere?"

you pause, looking back, you don't think you recognise this person. "you must have me confused for someone else, i'm sorry."

"wait... no you're sana's best friend right!?"

you drop the cigarette in your hand in shock. it had been a long time since someone had said that name out loud. she only ever lived in your head, it was hard to believe she was someone to other people too.

"right yes of course i remember now! i'm momo i was sana's roommate in college. although you probably don't remember i think we only really met like once. sana was always with you around campus and posted you a lot though so i remember you."

you vaguely recall the woman as she chatters away excitedly.

"right... momo... it's nice to meet you. i'm y/n."

momo grins, "have you spoken to sana lately? i don't think i saw you at the wedding, although i may have just been drunk." she chuckles a little at herself, not realising the way your face drops.

"wedding?"

momo looks at you a little in confusion, "yeah. last month? sana got married in sapporo."

your head is spinning with the new information. sana was married?

“woah you feeling okay?” momo’s reaching out for your shoulder, steadying you. you didn’t even realise you had lost your balance.

“i-i- yeah sorry.”

“you sure? are you here with anyone? anyone i can call?”

“no. it’s okay, thank you though.”

“yeah no problem.”

she’s shuffling back again, sucking on her cigarette.

“sana and i haven’t spoken in years. i was just a little surprised is all.” you speak up when you feel a little steadier on your feet.

“oh shit! i’m so sorry y/n i had no idea!”

“it’s okay, it seems no one really does.” you laugh a little bitterly.

momo doesn’t know how to respond to this, flicking her eyes between you and the door.

“it’s fine though. i’m happy for her.” the words taste vile on your tongue. is this what sana felt when she watched you walk down the aisle on your wedding day?

momo softens a little, “she is happy.” she offers you a kind smile, tapping out her cigarette and mumbling a quick thanks before heading back inside.

once you're sure she's gone you let yourself break down. sobs wrack your body as you hold your hands over your mouth trying to quiet them. you can barely see through the tears streaming out of your eyes. this was it. you'd finally lost her. you couldn't cling to the delusion that somewhere out there, some of her still belonged to you, some of her happiness, her memories, her love. you'd lost all of that now.

▂▂⌇

"what was that y/n?"

"what?"

"don't fuck with me right now. that was frank wasn't it? on the phone just then?"

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, "what do you want me to say sana?"

"that you're keeping your promise. that you're going to return to him, break up with him, and then you're going to come back here to me. and then we can finally start our lives together."

"it's not that easy sana."

she explodes, "what do you mean?! it is that easy y/n! you told me when you came here that you and frank were over. have been for years. and now you can't tell me that same thing?"

"i don't- no sana-"

"what? what y/n? what’s your excuse now? do you have to make sure your job is secure? after you've spent a whole fucking month here you expect me to think you still care about that? do you have a child with him? is that it? is he sick? what other possible excuse is there for 'it's not that easy sana'?!"

"you don't get it! you can't say that to me sana!"

"what?! what don't i get?! tell me y/n, let's sort this shit out right fucking now. tell me why you can't be with me."

"it's not- that's just the way i am sana! i can't-"

"you told me you loved me. was that a lie then?" her eyes are brimming with tears, anger evident and your heart breaks again. you promised, you promised her and you promised yourself that this wouldn't happen again.

you're quick to step in again, trying to stop her from crying the one way you know how, brushing her cheeks with your thumbs and kissing her.

she doesn't let you get away with it this time though. she rips away from you, placing a hand on your chest and pushing you back lightly, keeping you literally at arm's length.

"don't do that." she's chuckling, her laughs mixed in with quiet sobs, "don't think you can just kiss away your problems. that's not how real life works y/n."

"please sana, please just-"

"what? you want me to be okay being your secret again? you want to be able to go around in public with frank only to come home to me? you can't have both y/n! i'm not going to do that again for you!"

you’re both crying now, standing across from each other in sana’s apartment, a place that’s felt more like home to you in a month than your place with frank has felt for you in six years.

your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper when you speak up, “i can’t- i can’t feel like this sana.”

sana’s wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. then she’s turning on her heel and heading into the bedroom.

you follow her, you’d follow her anywhere, but your heart sinks when you realise she’s going around the room picking up your belongings and shoving them into your bag.

“w-wait s-sana, what- what are you doing? stop please-“

you’re almost begging, scrambling after her trying to pull her back but she’s stubborn, she’s able to fill the bag within a minute and then she’s pushing it into you, and out the door.

“please! sana please i can’t lose you again don’t do this please- you’re my best friend sana.”

she’s managed to successfully push you out the front door now, still crying. “but you’re not mine y/n. you were never my best friend. you were always the love of my life. and you can’t be that for me anymore. so leave. please. don’t try and find me again.”

“n-no sana please d-don’t-“

“you’d have to stop the world just to stop what you feel for me y/n. but you don’t realise that. and i’m sick of loving someone who can’t give me all of that love back.”

and then she’s slamming her door shut in your face, the both of you sobbing on opposite sides of the door, hearts shattered a second time, and later, when it happens a third time, it’s only the sound of yours breaking.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #twice sana x reader #sana x fem!reader #sana x f!reader #twice x reader #twice x fem!reader #twice x f!reader #twice imagines #sana imagines #royaltozaki

302 notes · View notes

msgrieves · 2 months

Text

𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅

summary : tom riddle decides to give you a lesson in herbology when you seem to be slacking 💞

warnings : smut, in public (a library), she/her pronouns used, dumbification, handgag??, fingering, lowercase intended!!

ೃ⁀➷ this is my first time writing a fic/smut so be warned for cringe; fyi i chose to make the reader's last name carrow!!; written in 3rd person because i can't bring myself to write in 2nd person rn 😣😣; no use of y/n

lonely, she felt. amidst the solitude of the library she felt lonely. all signs of life had long left, leaving her alone with merely her own consciousness and the heavy snores emitting from madam scribner's dribbling mouth.

she felt like she was going crazy, rereading over the same article over and over again, fruitlessly scavenging for any information she hadn't picked up through her last fifty searches. in the pindrop silence she heard a cough, nearly sending her into a heart attack; glancing up from her disordered desk she met the protruding gaze of tom riddle,

"miss carrow, are you aware the library closed over twenty minutes ago?"

his expression mocked her, as if she was unaware of such primary rules. of course the library had closed long ago, she'd been checking her rustic pocket watch every five minutes in fear of a professor waltzing in and catching her. she feigned a tone of innocent obliviousness:

"oh sorry tom, i seemed to have lost track of time, i best be on my way now."

she hastily shuffled out of her seat, slotting assortments into her rugged leather satchel and slinging it over her shoulder in a hurry.

"not so fast.." riddle tutted at her condescendingly.

he took a sharp inhale, glancing at his dress shoes before back up her, taking a small step back.

"how come you're out so late?"

the dreaded question.

she'd hoped to escape him before he had the chance to completely humiliate her: give her a good scolding.

"..studying" she answered, vague.

a questioning look arose on his face.

"studying?" he repeated, his voice mocking hers.a simple nod would do.

"for what?"

"herbology."

an incredibly useless subject she took only because she wanted as many qualifications as possible.

he scoffed, he'd certainly shown up in a pissy mood. there was an uncomfortable pause, him looking her over before opening his mouth again.

"you're free to go."

her eyes widened, her tongue unable to stop herself from saying:

"what?"

...

"would you like a detention then?"

"..no" she shook her head, quickly.

"then leave, now." he repeated, this time firmer than before.

well this was shocking. he'd allowed her to leave freely. normally it'd take an entire hour of him berating her before even considering letting her return to her dorm - usually accompanied with a week's worth of detentions, just because he could.

she didn't pass the oppurtunity, scurrying out before he had the chance to rethink his decision. she didn't question why he let her off the hook. she was simply thankful he did.

a day had passed. it was now sunday night. she had the huge herbology test in only a few hours. she couldn't score anything below outstanding, otherwise her parents would be upset with her, professor beery would be dissapointed, and riddle would get one over on her but that mattered very little to her considering the worser consequences.

again she sat at her little table tucked away in the corner of the library. the incompetent librarian snoring away as per usual.

she took a break from her relentless studying, idly volunteering her help by sorting jumbled books which the first years had so carelessly tossed around.

she strolled a lap of the lavish library, sorting out obvious messes of disordered books before returning to her desk, finding riddle occupying her seat.

without needing to announce herself, he spoke up, somehow just knowing she was there.

"you've got this all wrong."

a focused look fixed upon his face as he flicked through the endless notes she'd written over the past week on the various plants professor beery had instructed the class to research.

"excuse you?" she scoffed in annoyance, striding largly over to him and harshly snatching the worn notebook from his hands.

who did he think he was? searching through her personal belongings?

"your notes. they're all wrong." he repeated, a blank look on his face as he fixated his gaze on her now, leaving her stomach a fluttering mess which she chose to ignore in fear of what could be revealed about her stemming from it.

"you shouldn't've even been snooping through my stuff. get up." she urged, waiting for him to move so she could reclaim her seat.

"but they were wrong-"

"-i don't care, get up."

his jaw clenched and he inhaled sharply, standing up nevertheless as she resat in her wooden chair. he pulled another over, inviting himself to join.

"i think you're forgetting whose in charge here."

he gave her a daunting glare, sitting down next to her. in all fairness as head boy he had the ability to send her back to her dorm right now, seeing as she was out past curfew, again.

"now.." he took a breath "do you need my help?"

he sounded empathetic. shocking for someone like him, who despite his charming reputation she knew to be one carless soul.

"no, i do not need your help-"

"-i think you do." he replied, his blunt tone not budging.

he brought his chair closer to her, gently taking the notes from her hands and spreading them on the table in front.

before, him going out of his way to help her seemed like a distant fantasy. what on earth was his motive behind this?

"read over your notes for me."

he placed a strong hand on her shoulder, patting it harshly as if it were an easing, friendly gesture, but instead it caused her to stiffen and shrink further into her seat.

"the entire thing?"

"would you like a detention?"

he kept using that stupid threat. it worked every time though. she took a deep breath, biting back her anger.

"lavage-"

"first of all you've spelt it wrong."

he interrupted abruptly, bringing his hand from her shoulder to point it at the word written in a messy scrawling at the top of the parchment, then residing it down on her thigh. she tensed up, unsure of how exactly should she react.. should she push him off? she wasn't quite sure how she felt just yet.

with his right hand he borrowed her quill, scratching out the incorrect spelling to rewrite it as 'lovage' in a smaller font just above her old writing.

"continue" he hummed, now drawing light circles with his thumb onto her upper thigh.

her breath hitched, she tried to steady its pace, restarting her reading.

"lovage.. similar to broccoli-"

his hand made a sudden dip to explore her inner thigh.

"celery." he corrected, not arrogantly.

strange. he was being helpful, not mocking her for being wrong.

"celery." she repeated affirmatively, "its common use-"

merlin this man wouldn't shut up and let her talk.

"start from the beginning. once your done you can return to your dorm.. depending on how well i think you've done."

how well he thinks she's done?? in what world is that fair. she scowled at him, giving him a distasteful look, though he was too focused on the notes in front of the two of them to notice.

she took a deep breath,

"lovage." she repeated, rather dramatically.

his fingers began tracing higher up her thigh, slipping up her skirt and beginning to toy with the elastic hem of her undergarments beneath the desk.

"similar to celery, its common usages are-"

her sentence was cut by a breathy moan, where in gods green earth did that come from.

he'd traced lower down to her cunt, his fingers precise and sure.

"restart." he sighed exasperatedly, as if nothing out of the ordinary was occuring.

for merlin sake, he was nearly fingering her under the table- and she let him??

she groaned, in annoyance of his persistance, in annoyance of his fingers hovering so teasingly over where she needed him most.

"lovage. similar to celery. its common usages are for befuddlement draughts,"

"and what else?"

"what do you mean 'what else'??- the book only sAI-"

his index had slipped between her already moistened folds, applying the lightest pressure to her clit as he dipped the tip of it into her hole, she stiffled an unholy noise from seeping out from between her lips.

"quiet. madam scribner's still asleep." he warned, holding back a cocky grin.

what a sick freak. fingering her in a fucking library?? what was he thinking?

she covered her mouth at the attempt of another moan pushing through with his movements unceasing, abiding silently despite the protests inside her head.

she shook her head after a moment, her brows furrowed.

"i can't do this."

"sure you can dear."

"no, no, no i genuinely can't-"

she couldn't. not with someone she hated so much but was so attracted to? all it did was fuck with her feelings.

"keep reading."

she gulped dryly, trying to restart but without warning he'd slipped a first finger into her. she covered her mouth with her hand again, muffling the lewd noises from the innocent ears of the librarian a few metres away. sure the distance between them and madam scribner was large but it was only them there. if she woke up, there was no hiding.

deep breaths.

"lovage, similar to cE-lery, its common usages are for befuddlement draughts,"

her voice cracked as he swiped her clit with his thumb.

"well actually any confusing draughts." he interjected.

she groaned loudly in frustration with him interrupting and with the pressure he fiddled her with. he now clasped his own hand around her mouth, shushing her.

"that's all you need to know for this plant, don't worry about the rest dear." he eased, her taking his word for it seeing as she just wanted him to end this torture already.

he pushed in another finger, her slouching down on the chair as much as she could to push him deeper inside her.

he waited a second, slowly beginning to slide them in and out, careful as to not make excessive amounts of noise with the obscenely slick sounds envolping the silent room. the rough ends curled up, fingers exploring her insides with expertise.

she could've came on just two fingers alone.

"tell me, what was the name of the plant again?" he questioned quietly, his pace fastening by the second.she was limp now, lost in his touch. this was becoming clearer now. it was just his sick and perverted way of humiliating her.

"..huh, m'sorry..?" she asked, nearly sounding drunk as her eyes gazed up at his again.

"name of the plant dear," he uttered, looking her into her soul as he was reminded of how easily he would sway the morals of others simply by using his less.. dignified skills along with his good looks.

"lavage," she answered, confident as she didn't think over her answer.

"haven't you been listening? or has me simply slipping a finger or two into you made you this dumb?" he cooed, his words lined with a condescending type of mocking.

"oh, fuck- lovage i meant-"

she was quick to correct herself, earning a swipe at her clit as he began to pay more attention to it.

he sighed, as if this was an inconvenience to him - if so why was he doing this?

"and it's similar to?"

merlin, she didn't need an entire herbology lesson whilst he was messing around with her insides.

"celery,"

she was met with an ever deeper push of his fingers, hitting a spongey area deep inside her, one she didn't even think was possible for him to reach with his fingers alone.

"again."

"..celery..?"

she was confused to say the least, his motive was rather unclear.

he tutted and abruptly pulled out his fingers, wiping them on the inside of the fabric as he slipped them out of her panties, smearing the remainder of her juices that he unsucessfully wiped away onto her thigh, making the sheer tights she wore glossier.

she squirmed, an uncomfortable tensing in her abdomen having being left to suffer.

"why- why d'you stop?" she murmered, her thighs rubbing together to mimic the previous sensation but not even being able to come close to the pleasure of it.

"i need to work harder to knock my teachings out of your pretty little head."

ೃ⁀➷ sorry for the abrupt ending i just wanted to get something out, lmk if you want a part two !!

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

#tom riddle #knights of walpurgis #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle smut #voldemort #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x oc #harry potter #chamber of secrets

252 notes · View notes