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talaok · 7 months

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Like a Virgin

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: It's been a really long time since Joel has felt the feel of anything else besides his own fist, and once you remind him how good the real thing is... let's just say it's hard for him to live up to his full potential.

warnings: smut| unprotected p in v sex, premature ejaculation, very touch-starved Joel, and allusion to oral sex (f receiving)

a/n: I don't know what to say lmao this is a thing for me ok, don't judge (and also you can't tell me this isn't accurate, like this man hasn't gotten laid since the moon landing probably, and you expect him to last? no way babe). Also I'm sorry about the title it's funny to me lol

Now this wasn't like him.

He hadn't done this in a long time.

The last time he had sex with a woman he'd just met (or any woman to be completely honest) he was 25 years younger and the world hadn't gone to shit yet... so yeah, a long time indeed.

But you were so fucking beautiful, such a pretty face with such pretty eyes, and god but that mouth of yours-

And plus you were new to Jackson, you didn't know yet about all the scary stories folks liked to tell about him, and you were kind and funny, and... did he mention hot already?

Just one night of letting loose, that's what he'd told himself, and then he was gonna go back to his old closed-off self, but for now... for now, he was too busy throwing you on his bed to think about anything else.

You were getting rid of your clothes and he followed your lead more than willingly, almost ripping the buttons off his flannel in the rush.

He bent down to kiss your neck as his hands hurried to your tits.

God, he'd forgotten how good it felt to touch a woman.

And when you let out a little whimper, he swore he had ascended to another universe.

"Joel please"

Fuck him, but he wasn't inside of you yet, and he was already feeling far too close to coming.

Guess fucking his own fist for two decades really does something to a man.

"need something?"

He was acting wayy too smug for someone who was feeling like a virgin all over again.

"Please- I need you inside me, Joel"

fucking damnit- he shouldn't have asked that, his dick was now really suffering the consequences.

He didn't risk saying anything else as he got rid of his boxers, but of course, you just had to come out and say:

"oh wow, you're big" with the sexiest fucking voice he'd ever heard.

"want me to stop?"

For some reason, those words elicited a criminally hot smirk on your lips

"Definitely not"

You were looking at him like a starving woman and he had to look down to where he was moving his tip to your entrance to get away from you and your dangerous, dangerous gaze

He pushed into you slowly and god fucking damnit but the sounds that you made... those sweet little moans and whines you let out as your warm pussy stretched around him and hugged him better than anything he'd felt in years... he had no words for it- no coherent sounds could make it out of his mouth except for a few groans coming deep from his chest.

"Good christ"

that's the only thing he managed to murmur as he bottomed out and had to take a break to try not to bust his load right there.

"fuck you feel so good" you moaned, as your hands gripped his sheets "please move" you begged, your voice breathy and pleading, and godfuck he should have really thought about it before doing this.

"Joel please-"

"I just need a moment darlin'" he explained, closing his eyes to try and remember how he used to manage to last and coming up completely empty.

He could feel your expectant eyes on him so even if he sure as hell didn't feel ready, he did as you asked and started to move.

The regret reached him extraordinarily fast as he felt your walls tightening around him and as you cried out for him like an angel sent straight from heaven.

"fuck-" you moaned, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him wonder if you really just knew what you were doing, if you actually enjoyed torturing him like this

"god you're so deep"

Yeah, you definitely knew

"and so big-" you cried

He gripped your waist to try and ground himself as he thrusted into your fucking perfect cunt.

"oh my god-yes!" you moaned, your back arching from the bed as his thrust got harsher in the hopes that that would make you talk less.

"just like that Joel- oh-"

And Joel was tough in a lot of ways and he wasn't one to give up easily, but shit you were making it hard for him.

"Please don't stop- fuckfuckfuck" you begged, shutting your eyes close at the feeling.

And that was it, he couldn't do it anymore

"please stop talking" he breathed, his eyes resuming their tour of your eyes, mouth, and bouncing tits.

"why?"

"nothing it's just-"

And before he could answer you had grabbed his shoulder and forced him to bend down to meet your mouth with his.

Goddamnit.

"you just feel too good Joel"

"fuck." he groaned, not able to stop his hips from moving no matter how much he wanted to "shit"

"what is it?"

"Jesus Christ I-"

"is there something wrong?"

"n-no just- fuck I'm sorry sweetheart"

And that's all he could say as he abruptly pulled out of you, his spend covering your stomach not even a second after as he growled so loud his neighbors probably thought he was getting killed.

"shit" again, he sighed, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

"oh" you couldn't help but smile as everything came together

"I'm sorry darlin'" he breathed, leaning away and standing up as shame filled every inch of him.

"It's just- It's been a long time since I've done... this"

You sat up, your legs still dangling off the bed, as you admired his handy work on your belly.

"And you... you're just real fucking pretty" he huffed a half-laugh "I'm sorry"

You looked up at him then, meeting his mortified expression.

"No hey" you smiled, placing a hand on his torso "It's fine, I understand"

"god this is embarrassing, I feel like a sixteen-year-old all over again" he shook his head

"stop" you cooed, gently caressing his skin, as a mischievous spark lighted in your irides "It's fine, really" you promised, "and besides..." you bit your bottom lip as you slowly spread your legs "you could still make it up to me, y'know?"

He groaned again, falling to his knees between your thighs

"that I can do"

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aughwl · 1 year

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Spoilers for Glass Onion: A knives out mystery:

Holy shit that was a fun movie. It was really well woven together with so many little details and callbacks, every line seemed like it connected to a greater whole. I really liked:

Constant references to someone being killed over something before we know when the murder happens ("Welcome, gang. A few cocktails before I'm murdered.")

The way it seems like the case can be solved as an elegant puzzle, but actually the way to solve it is to smash it into pieces

Benoit Blanc's Columbo act with pretending to not know why he's invited to the island while actually being very aware of what's going on

Miles is Elon Musk

Birdie just constantly doing problematic things out of her own ignorance ("please tell me you did not think sweatshops are where they make sweatpants.")

Why do they contantly mention Miles' tits

Duke Tate got what he deserved tbh

It's really funny how getting someone elected is equated with getting someone a twitch platform

Miles' speech about disruption mirroring the glass-smashing scene where he desperately protects 'that which no one wants to disrupt (The mona lisa)'

Among us

The 'oh god damnit' moment when Blanc sees a knife missing

Benoit Blanc seems to be more mad about Miles' plagiarism than the actual murder

Chekov's pineapple allergy

Derol genuinly never had anything to do with the murder and just smoked weed in the background the whole movie

If the legal system doesn't have your back, you can always just fuck things up like they get away with fucking up your things

#glass onion #knives out #knives out glass onion #knives out 2 #knives out spoilers #glass onion: a knives out mystery

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ktsumu · 4 months

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YOU TOLD ME TO DO IT SCARED

Iwaizumi was sixteen when he lost all of his fear.

He doesn’t really remember exactly what it was that the two of you were talking about, or when, but he remembers how his voice echoed in the alleyway home — the shortcut, he called it.

Iwaizumi remembers rambling and he remembers that you let him; you were never one to cut him off. He was a good listener, as it could be especially hard to get a word in around people like his group of friends, but you?

Around you? He couldn’t shut up.

He was rambling on and on about something — he forgets what, but it was big for his sixteen-year-old self. Nerve-wracking.

“Are you done?” he remembers you asking, side-eyeing him as you walked.

“Uh, yeah. I’m done.”

“Great. What are you even worried about, Hajime?”

(He still doesn’t know what. It turns out that you were right, and it was so insignificant that he can’t even remember what was bothering him to this day.)

“I don’t know. Rejection. Failure—“

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Yes, because Hajime Iwaizumi is known for failing.”

He furrowed his brows. “Don’t be mad that I’m nervous.”

“Scared, Haji.”

“I’m not—“

(You gave him a look and he shut his mouth.)

“So what?” he asked then, dropping his hands in his pockets. You never really knew why he was so good with you, why he talked so much — you never dared question it. “How do I get over it and just do it?”

You smile, shaking your head.

“You don’t get over it. You do it scared.”

“What?”

“Fake it ‘til ya make it, Haji.”

(Iwaizumi doesn’t remember what he did, but he knows he did it terrified; he did it well, too. Passed the test, won the game, cleared the hurdle, got the job. Whatever it was.)

Iwaizumi was sixteen when he lost all of his fear. He’s twenty-eight when it all comes crawling back.

By now, he’s more than a decade older with a bunch of fearlessness under his belt, from spiders put back outside to funny noises in the yard. He’s carding his fingers through your hair on the couch you both picked out, and he hasn’t been this scared in a really, really long time.

(Probably not since you told him that he just needed to do it.)

Iwaizumi is scared because, for the first time in the three months he’s been carrying your ring in his pocket, he really wants to fucking give it to you.

He’s always wanted to — no shit, it’s why he bought it — but tonight is the first time he wants to ask you. He doesn’t just want to picture it on your finger, he wants to feel it against his hand when he holds yours.

The same movie you’ve seen four times plays on the TV. You’re leaned right against him; your eyes are heavy, you’ve yawned a few times.

Half of him wants to do it, half of him knows it’s late.

It’s just — it’s you in his shirt, in his sweatpants, in his arms. He has been yours for way too long to not have done this sooner, but neither of you have ever been in a rush to do anything.

Until now, half past midnight on your long weekend and all he wants to do is plan a wedding.

Iwaizumi can’t even sit in his imagination for long, because soon enough you’re sitting up with a look of confusion and you’re lifting his hoodie up, putting a hand over his heart.

“What?” he says, half a breath and half a laugh.

You look … concerned. He can’t tell whether he thinks it’s cute or distressing. “You don’t feel that?”

“Feel what?”

“Hajime, your heart is racing.”

“Is it?” he asks. He sets his hand beside yours. “Nope, don’t feel it.”

You roll your eyes, yanking his sweater back down as you sit at his side. “Well, something is making you two steps away from arresting right here. Spill before I call an ambulance.”

“It’s nothing, seriously. Watch the movie, will you?”

“But I’m nosy, damnit. Don’t you know me at all?”

God, so fucking well. Somehow, not well enough. Tell me more. Tell me everything I already know.

“It’s nothing!”

“Hajime,” you say, and finally your voice is stern. “Whatever you want to say, you know I could never be mad at you for it.”

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath. The box in his pocket feels like it’s made of fucking lead.

“I—“

“Stop. It.”

(He does. He stands up instead.)

“Okay, wait,” you start again, “I didn’t mean leave.”

“Give me a second, damn,” he groans, dusting off his pants, checking it’s still there. Of course it’s still there, but if it wasn’t, this would be bad.

Iwaizumi knows you deserve a thousand flowers and a candle-lit beach, and maybe he’ll give you both. But he’s neck-deep and the water is rising; it’s now or within the next hour, really.

“Hey, are you alright? You’re pale,”

“I’m fine,” he reassures you. Iwaizumi kneels in front of the couch.

“Hajime,” you say again, face contorted in worry. “Seriously, are you—?”

You don’t just trail off, you jump off the road.

In one of his hands is a box. A small one, fitting for a ring. His other hand rests on your knee.

“Are you—“

“—dead serious? Yeah,” he says, sounding way less strong than he looks. “I am.”

He opens the little box, showing you what’s inside. It’s in your colour, a pretty diamond glistening beneath the warm light of your table lamp and the movie. You swear you even mentioned that shape once, probably years ago.

“No,”

“Yeah,” he says, “yes.”

“Are you serious?” you whisper, feeling your tears jerk to the surface, rimming your eyes. You rest a hand on his.

He’s shaking.

“Hajime,” you laugh, wiping a hand under your eye. “You’re shaking.”

He sighs.

“I know,” he nods. Iwaizumi cracks a small smile — he thinks he might cry, too. “You told me to do it scared.”

Your brows furrow and unfurrow in the matter of a few seconds. Yeah, you did say that.

(You were sixteen and talking about less major things, but you did say that.)

“So I’m doing it,” he finishes. “Scared.”

“Scared of what?”

He shrugs. “That I’d stutter when I ask you to marry me. Or that you’d say no.”

You smile. “Have you asked me?”

“Not yet. I was gonna make a speech, but I,” he slows. He stops — he has to, he’s getting choked up. “I might have to save it for later.”

“I don’t want a speech, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he says. Iwaizumi takes your hand in his shaking hold, his thumb swiping over the top of your ring finger. “I’m gonna do it now.”

“Get on with it, Hajime.”

You’re unmistakably excited.

Iwaizumi kisses where the ring will be if you tell him yes. Scared and all, he looks up at you.

(He speaks the words you’ve been waiting for into your skin. Will you marry me? murmured into your knuckles.

You don’t even tell him yes. Not coherently, anyway.)

You throw yourself into his chest and he has to hold himself up against the coffee table behind him to kiss you upright.

“Yes,” you answer again, over and over. “Even if you were scared to ask.”

“It just means I love you, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, taking your hand and moving it back in front of him. He slips your ring onto your finger. “Just scared on the off chance you were gonna spit in my face—“

“Shut up,”

“Hey, don’t talk to your fiancé like that.” Iwaizumi hesitates, looking up from the ring to your face. His eyes are so soft that you know they’re for you. “That has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“Fiancé,” you repeat. Husband to be.

“Yeah. That does sound pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“Just imagine how I think fiancée sounds, honey.”

“And look — you didn’t even stutter.”

“Oh, come o—“

“Careful what you say, now. Happy fiancée, happy life, Hajime.”

“I don’t think that’s the saying, but okay.”

note; tagging @shotorus because this is your man :3 happy late birthday sel!

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq!! x reader #hq drabble #hq x reader #kit writes

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stop-talking · 2 months

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Open wide

Mike Schmidt x gender-neutral reader

2.8k words

Tags: 18+, no use of y/n, smut, porn with plot, extremely unrealistic scenario but it's funny, mike is a horny bastard & a sub, handjob (mike receiving), post-movie, mike's POV!

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Mike can't even remember the last time he went to the dentist.

Well, he CAN remember, he just doesn't want to. He was a child the last time he went, and only bits and pieces of the experience stuck with him. An old man poking bony gloved fingers into his mouth, having his teeth scraped with a hook, and being scolded for not brushing good enough.

Yeah. The dentist is not a fond memory for Mike. That's part of the reason he hasn't bothered to go in over ten years. (The other part being that he's spent most of early adulthood broke as fuck; and values groceries over trips to the oral hygienist.)

But with his new job, and the healthcare benefits that come along with it... well, he really has no excuse not to go.

So, he sits in a small room with blue walls and ocean-themed décor, squirming on the weird lounge chair. There's a giant mirror over his head, and he can't help but be reminded of those funhouse mirrors at the circus. The ones that twist and contort your face in an unsettling way.

"Hey, Mr. Schmidt, right?" You make your way through the door, scanning over a clipboard.

Is this the dentist? Mike scrambles to sit up in the awkwardly-reclined chair and hold out a hand for you to shake.

"Uh, just 'Mike' is fine." He gives you a weak smile and a firm handshake before leaning back against the chair once more.

You introduce yourself as a dental assistant, and when he thinks about it, that makes more sense. You look young, probably close to his own age. And... rather attractive, actually.

Fuck. Did you just ask him a question?

"Sorry, I... I'm not sure..." He stutters, doing his best not to squirm under your gaze.

This seems to amuse you, because you try and fail to suppress a chuckle. Shit. Was that the wrong answer?

"You're not sure what flavor of toothpaste you want, Mike?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Mike sputters again, making a complete fool of himself. Before he can get out a complete thought, you cut him off.

"It's okay. Want me to just pick for you?"

He nods.

"Alright then, you look like a watermelon kind of guy. Is that fine?"

Another nod.

You smile and pull on a pair of blue gloves, matching your blue scrubs.

"Something tells me you haven't been here before."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes... and no. I read it on your medical record just now." You give him a teasing smile and hold up the clipboard you'd been pouring over when you walked in.

Mike laughs nervously at what he's pretty sure was supposed to be a joke, and watches as you pull up a chair.

"I haven't exactly been going to regular checkups." He confesses.

"Well then, let's see what we're working with. Open up for me?"

He squints as you turn on a harsh overhead light attached to the mirror and angle it down so it shines right in his face. Damnit, what is this? An interrogation?

"Open up." You repeat, not asking this time.

Fuck. Why is that kind of...? Ugh, no. Not even going there. Mike tentatively opens his mouth, still blinking through the interrogation-esque lighting above him.

"There you go. A little wider, now."

Your fingers immediately find their way into his mouth, prying his jaws open further.

Mike's eyes go wider than his jaw when you pull out a hook and start scraping it against his teeth. What the fuck? He's feeling more and more like this is some kind of torture and interrogation ritual.

"I know, hun. No one likes the hook. Just relax." You coo, placing a hand on the side of his face and wedging your thumb between his teeth.

He takes a deep breath and melts back into the chair, letting himself be soothed by your voice. Mike tries to focus on your face above him instead of the horrible metal scraping his bones. The backlighting creates a halo around your head as you lean over him, reminding him of an angel.

You seem to notice his staring, because you smile down at him.

"So, tell me about yourself, Mike."

Mike's brow furrows in confusion. How the hell is supposed to answer that with a mouthful of latex-covered fingers and metal torture instruments?

"Uhhh..." He lets out a strained gargle, the only sound he can really make in this moment.

"Interesting..." You chuckle, still scraping away at his teeth.

"Tell me more."

Oh. You're teasing him. Fuck that.

Mike rolls his eyes, trying to make it clear he's not in the mood.

"Sassy, are we? Careful. I do have a hook in your mouth."

Christ. Are you threatening him now? Is this how trips to the dentist are supposed to go? Mike has no idea. So, he lets out another grunt.

"Your teeth actually look really nice. You brush at least twice a day?"

Mike nods slightly, scared to move too much with the hook scraping dangerously close to his gums.

"Good, good. Your teeth are so straight and bright."

Now you're complimenting him? Mike can feel his brain go fuzzy as he stares up into your eyes. The paper mask you're wearing covers the lower half of your face, sure, but your eyes are... entrancing.

He tries to say a quick "thanks", but with your thumb still wedged between his teeth... it comes out as more of an "Aahhh". And sounds suspiciously like a moan. Damnit.

"Got something to say?" You laugh softly, removing your fingers and tools from his mouth.

Mike takes the opportunity to close his mouth and feel over his teeth with his tongue. They feel... different.

"Just, uh, thanks..." He mumbles.

"Of course, you're doing so well."

Fuck. Are his jeans getting tighter?

Mike tries to subtly adjust himself while you turn to grab something off the nearby table. God damnit. This wouldn't happen if he wasn't so damn touch starved.

You put a little hose in his mouth and explain it's to rinse his mouth out. Or something like that. Mike isn't really listening, instead focusing solely on calming the fuck down.

"Oh, and sorry if I'm talking too much. I just transferred over from a pediatric office, so I'm used to having to distract my patients while I work. You probably don't need that, do you?"

He just gargles a response, mouth filling with water.

"Wait, here, don't swallow that."

Mike can't help but think he'd swallow anything if you told him to. Ugh. His jeans are definitely getting too tight.

You stick a different hose in his mouth, and it sucks out the watery saliva mixture.

"You're fine... I haven't been to the dentist since I was a kid, anyways."

"Really?" You ask, eyes lighting up as you lean over him again.

"Y-Yeah."

"Oh, but your teeth look so nice! Keep doing whatever you're doing, hun." You cup his face in your hands, leaning in close and gently pushing his lips back with your thumbs for a better look at his teeth.

Mike squirms slightly, a little intimidated by your firm grip on his face and intense scrutiny of his mouth. He tries to tug the hem of his hoodie down in an attempt to hide his growing boner. Fuck, he feels like such a pervert.

Of course, his movement only draws your attention down to his... ''problem area''.

You must be pretending not to notice, because your eyes flick back over to the table. As you get up to grab something, you casually bump the door with your hip and it swings shut.

What's that for? Mike is too embarrassed to ask, so he just waits patiently as you make your way back over with a toothbrush.

"Open for me." You playfully tap his lips with a finger, and Mike does as asked.

"Good, good... we're almost done here."

Mike feels a lot more relaxed like this. Your voice is soothing, and he stares up into your eyes as you brush his teeth. It's strange to have someone else do it for him, but hey, at least you're not using the damn hook anymore.

After a minute or so of this, he starts to calm down, the tent in his pants dying down as well. Thank god.

"Alright, gonna rinse your mouth again. If you have any needs or concerns regarding your teeth, now's the time to tell me."

Mike gently shakes his head no, mouth filling with water as you rinse his teeth with the little hose.

"You sure? Nothing else you want?"

Are you... flirting with him? Or is this just how these things go? Mike's head spins as you put the toothbrush back in his mouth again.

"Just gonna brush your tongue... Say 'ahh' for me!"

Mike lets out a weak ''ahh'', that, again, sounds extremely similar to a moan. Fuck.

You slowly brush his tongue, going further and further back. Mike starts to shift in his seat, wondering just how much of his tongue he's supposed to be brushing. He certainty never goes this far, it's almost at the back of his throat... Still, he tits his head back slightly, letting you go even deeper.

"Damn. No gag reflex, or just used to this sort of thing?" You tease, smirking so obviously he can see it through the mask.

Okay, yeah. You're definitely flirting with him.

Mike just sputters and chokes in response, unable to speak while practically deepthroating the damn toothbrush.

"Sorry, let me get that out..."

When his mouth is finally his own again, free of intrusive fingers and oral hygiene instruments, he clears his throat. There's a familiar tightness in his jeans, and he's sure by now that you've noticed.

"Uhh... I..."

You take off your mask and he can finally see your whole face again. Your smile is attractive, no doubt, but also a little... hungry? You want something from him.

Mike isn't sure he could resist if you asked.

"So, you're sure there's nothing else... bothering you?" You ask, eyes trailing down to the tent in his jeans.

Ah, fuck. There's no hiding it now, huh? Mike tries to at least sit up slightly in the chair, but ends up a squirming mess instead.

"I..." He starts, swallowing hard.

"Are you offering...?"

As if to answer his unspoken question, you stand up from your chair and throw a leg over his.

He watches with wide eyes as you inch up his legs, straddling him and sitting just below his crotch.

"What do you think?"

Holy shit. What kind of a question is that? He "thinks" this is the hottest thing that's ever happened to him.

"More." He mumbles, bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your thighs.

That's all the confirmation you need, apparently. Before he can even process what's happening, you're grinding against his clothed cock.

Mike moves his hands up to your hips, watching as you remove the blue latex gloves with your teeth. God, that's got to be the most arousing thing he's ever seen, and he's not even sure why. He feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle. Is he really that goddamn desperate?

You brace your hands against his chest and lean in close, even more so than when you were prodding your fingers in his mouth.

Fuck. Mike decides he is definitely that desperate.

"You want this, don't you?" You ask sweetly, hot breath brushing against his lips.

He nods eagerly. Yes, he wants this. More than anything.

"Use your words, hun."

"I want this." He whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours while you grind on him. "I want you."

"I know." You whisper, bridging the small remaining gap between the two of you.

Mike kisses you back in earnest, moaning into your mouth when he finally feels your tongue slip between his lips.

He'd be content to stay like this forever, if his cock wasn't absolutely aching in his jeans. The grinding feels nice, yes, but he doesn't want to cum like this.

When you finally pull away and sit back up on him, he's left gasping for breath. Holy shit. Is this really happening?

"You really thought I wouldn't notice?" You ask, humming happily as you unzip his jeans.

Mike stammers out a response as you tug his pants down, squirming to help you get them off faster. He wishes you'd take the boxers off too, but he's not gonna push his luck.

"I-I couldn't help It... You're so..." He just looks up at you with pure admiration, letting his hands slide down your thighs.

"...perfect." Yeah, that's just about the only word describe you. No other would do you justice, not with how amazing you look on top of him like this.

"And you're already leaking."

Mike whimpers as you grope his dick, palming at it through his boxers. Fuck, you're not wrong. He can see the wet spot growing on his underwear. He tightens his grip on your thighs, desperate to feel you.

"More." He chokes out. "Please."

"Hmm... should I give you more?" You taunt him, giving his aching cock a firm squeeze through the fabric of his underwear.

"Yes!"

Mike is nearly shouting at this point, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He can only pray the room is somewhat soundproof.

"Well, I guess you have been good for me..."

You slowly peel down his boxers, and his dick springs up to slap against his stomach. A steady stream of precum is leaks from the tip, and his back arches from the sudden sensation.

"Fuck... yes... good... so, so good for you..." He bucks his hips up into nothing, desperately pulling you down his lap by your thighs.

He isn't thinking straight at this point. It doesn't matter that you're at work. It doesn't matter you're fully clothed. He needs you on his dick. NOW.

"Woah, woah... slow down, hun." Laughing, you take his hands by the wrists and move them to the armrests.

He doesn't resist, throwing his head back and groaning. He'd let you do whatever you want to him at this point. He just wants to cum.

"Please..." He whimpers, gripping the armrests tightly as your hand inches towards his cock.

"You gonna be good for me? And wait till I give you permission to cum?"

He nods, still bucking his hips up into your hand as you wrap your soft hand around his length.

"Say it." You demand, still just holding it, unmoving as he slips further and further into pure desperation.

"I'll be good f'you. I'll wait. I promise. S'good..."

Mike mumbles a barely-coherent response, half nonsense as he fucks your hand with even more intensity. He's losing it already, and you've haven't even started-

Fuck.

You start to jerk him off at a moderate pace, hand moving in synch with his hips.

"That feel good, hm?"

He just moans a response, too fucked out to form words. His hips stutter and he nearly comes just from the way you're talking to him.

When you take your hand away suddenly, he groans, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. You can't end this for him. Not yet.

Thankfully, you didn't seem eager to put a stop to things. You slide down his lap, resting right up against his cock.

"I swear, if you cum on my uniform, I'll make you lick it all up."

Shit. Mike nearly does just that as you lean down and furiously make out with him. It's the toothbrush all over again, with the way your tongue is punching down his throat. He's never felt this desired before.

One of your hands gently tugs at his curls, and the other pulls his lower back up into an arch as you grind against him. Fuck, If you don't slow down...

"I'm g-gonna... gonna cum..." He breaks the kiss, whining and desperately pushing back on your hips, trying to keep from finishing. He wants to be good for you. He really does.

"Do it." You whisper, moving down to kiss his neck as he whimpers.

"Cum for me."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike wakes up in a cold sweat, trembling and gasping for air. Shit, he had been suffocating with his face in a pillow.

And... fuck. Probably jutting his hips into the mattress, too.

He doesn't even have to look at his shorts to know they're ruined. Damnit. Another wet dream. At this point, he almost preferred the reoccurring nightmares. Almost.

Hey, his next dentist appointment is in... what, three months? Maybe this time he'd work up the nerve to ask you out.

Probably not.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: I'M SORRY. Literally no one asked for this. Probably no one but me has ever gone "haha what if Mike has a praise kink and gets hard at the dentist". But it was so funny to me?? I had to stop what I was working on and write it IMMIDEATELY. I hope it wasn't too deranged.

I like to imagine his little dream is at least half true. Like, he's touch starved and ended up with an over-friendly oral hygienist who joked with him a little too much. And it made him feel things. But everything from the point of the door being closed and onwards is just his own twisted fantasy.

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mikeschmidt #fnafmovie #fnaf movie fanfic #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #jhutch1992

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thecuriousquest · 7 months

Text

Hole in the Wall

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, lines blurred between dubcon and noncon, vaginal sex, degradation, spanking, possessive tendencies, slapping at the end, tearing of clothes

Summary: Bakugou finds you stuck in a wall. 🫠

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

“Come on. Quit playing around, dumbass. We have a job to do.”

“Bakugou…wait, I really am stuck!”

He grumbles something and wraps his arms around your waist, trying to pull you out. You can’t get out of the hole because of your breasts being in the way.

“Aw, that hurts!”

You hear him huff on the other side. “Well, the fuck do you want me to do? I can’t blast a hole through the wall. The bricks will kill you.”

“Try pushing me out through the other side.”

Bakugou blushes, realizing what you’re asking him. He crouches low, and trying to avoid looking at your ass and what’s between your legs, he turns his head to the side. He pushes against you with his shoulder.

You feel the rough brick scraping your skin, and this hurts even worse than when he was trying to pull you towards him.

“Aw!”

Your sharp cry of pain forces Bakugou to turn towards the sound, a hero reflex. His eyes land exactly where he didn’t want them to. He can’t help looking at how the black latex of your costume molds to your fine ass. The part that’s covering your most modest area completely at eye level with him.

He can’t help his wandering hands.

You feel finger tips graze over your clothed pussy, and you gasp, your thighs stiffening.

“Katsuki, what-“

You feel a hard smack against the crest of your ass. You wriggle your hips as much as you can and push against the brick wall beneath you. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! What are you doing? Just, help me get out of here!”

“It’s funny. I really was just trying to help you out, but now, I just can’t help myself. I mean, look at you. Stupid enough to get stuck in a hole. It’s almost like you want this.”

You feel him tearing the latex of your hero costume off of your body, your butt fully exposed to him now. His hands are rough from the life of fighting crime and very warm with the beginnings of his quirk.

“No, no, wait, you can’t! This isn’t right! Katsuki, we’re in public!”

“Nobody’s gonna fucking find us in this back alley. Hey! Anyone out there?! We need help! Please, anyone?!” His shouts for help are mocking, condescending to your current circumstances. You know he’s teasing you, and it riles you with anger.

You kick you feet, very aware of the toe of your combat boots coming into contact with the brick. Your bare knees taking the brunt of abrasions as they scrape against the surface.

Damnit, why didn’t you ever think of getting a costume that would be harder to rip? You’ve never encountered this problem before, but your outfit is way too convenient for him.

You feel large hands paw at your thighs, prying them apart. He steps in between your kicking legs and nuzzles himself up against your slit. The squirming of your ass against his covered cock makes him harder, the friction causing precome to leak out. He pulls himself free, and you feel the slippery head of his dick right behind you.

A tear slips from your eye as he impales you with his cock, not taking the slightest time to prepare you.

“So fucking tight. Who would’ve thought with the costume you run around in. Fucking tease. Bet you do this kind of shit to all the guys. You really even stuck in there, or are you just doing this for attention?”

His laugh makes you want to die. You wish you could get out of this hole so you can punch him in the throat.

His hands spread your plump ass cheeks even further apart, making the penetration even deeper, making your pained whines turn into sloppy mewls. You want him to stop, so why does it feel so good?

You hang your head in shame. You feel like you shouldn’t be enjoying this, but there’s this little spot in your walls that he keeps rubbing against.

His fingertips press deeper into your ass cheeks, and you’re sure there will be bruises later. He laughs at your pleasured sounds.

“Uh huh, someone’s having fun. Little fucking slut. Some fuckin’ eye candy in that tight ass body suit. No idea how much I’ve always wanted to tear that little number off of you and let you walk home covered in my marks.”

He sets off his quirk against your bruised bottom right where he’s holding your cheeks open. The small explosion causes a nasty, naughty sound to emerge from your lips.

“Oh, God, Bakugou!”

“Yeah? You like that? Fuckin’ pain whore. Look at you begin’ for me. Bet you like having your hair pulled too.”

Another sharp smack cracks down against your backside, this time, paired with an explosion that feels worse than the last one.

Your hands fall limply in front of you. You feel heavy with all of the stimulation. It’s as if rocks are weighing down your body, and you release that pent up feeling between your legs.

It all feels like a rush, like a tidal wave crashing over you from head to toe.

And then Bakugou huffs one loud chuckle at your reaction to his sexual pleasures.

“Came that easy, huh? That’s alright. I’ve got plenty of time to make it happen again.”

Oh, and he does. He fucks into you, hips pumping fast. Each time he ruts into you, he groans with excitement. His wandering hands can’t help but squeeze that fine ass underneath his fingertips. Everything about you is wonderful to him. It’s as if you were made for him.

You come just before he does as he gives one last thrust before bottoming out. He pulls away from you, letting go of your ass as he adjusts his clothes. He watches a mix of his and your come spilling out of your throbbing pussy.

Bakugou decides to snap a quick picture, stuffing his phone back in his pants when he’s done.

“Alright, you really want out? I’ll have to call someone.”

“No! Just, use your quirk! I don’t want anyone to see me like this! I’ll cover my head. I don’t care if the bricks fall.”

“Tch. Fine, but I warned you.”

The brick explodes around you, and you shield your head with your arms. To your amazement, only a small clump of brick hits your shoulder. It doesn’t even really hurt. The majority of the brick being thrown forward instead of crashing down against you.

You stand up and turn to look at the explosion hero. What do you say to someone who just had their way with you while you were stuck in a fucking wall?

Instead of saying anything, you slap him across the face…hard. You feel a sharp burning in your palm, and you really want to shake it out, but you’re too stubborn to show him that you’re in pain from inflicting it.

He grins at you with lascivious intent. He grabs your hair, pinning you against the wall right next to the rubble.

“So, you wanna play? That’s fine. I’ve got all the time in the world for you.”

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citizen-sade · 8 months

Text

Rain Check

Inspired by this text post:

-------

Eddie glanced from his guitar to the digital alarm clock on the side table next to his bed, where he'd been idly strumming for the past hour, not really trying commiting the tune to memory.

He realized the upbeat lyrics of Bruce Springsteen in Steve’s off-key tenor from the bathroom two doors down had trailed off long ago. He vaguely wondered if he’d dozed off again.

Eddie grinned wryly as he recalled learning the hard way about Steve’s singular habit of falling asleep in the shower.

***

He bounced his leg impatiently, eyes darting to the bathroom as the minutes ticked closer to 8:00. Steve had been in there awhile and it was almost time for the Miami Vice marathon.

7:00 turned into 7:15... then 7:30... 7:35... This was stupid. He didn't even like Miami Vice. It was Steve's idea. So, what the hell was taking him so long?

Eddie set the bowl of popcorn on the coffe table before heading down the hallway and rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door, "Dude, what are you doing in there? Did you get lost?"

No answer.

Clouds of steam wafted out the door as he opened it to the sound of running water.

“Goddamn. Hot enough in here for you, Harrington?” he asked as he used the sleeve of his t-shirt to wipe off an area of condensation from the mirror above the sink.

He stared at the reflection of the seafoam green shower curtain behind him, waiting for Steve to peek out and ask him what he wanted, but his stomach sank when that didn’t happen.

“Steve?”

Still nothing. He inhaled deeply to steady his nerves. Dramatic though it may be, he couldn't help but think back to the time he'd discovered a former bandmate in a similar manner, unconscious in a hotel bathtub from an overdose. He was lucky Eddie had found him when he did, the dipshit.

But Steve was different. Steve Harrington wasn't a junkie. Steve Harrington was smarter than that.

Although, it wasn't like he'd given Eddie a comprehensive list of any potential health issues. Not that he'd asked for one.

Eddie licked his lips nervously as he turned towards the bathtub. He sighed, scratching the back of his head.

“Very funny, Harrington."

Nothing.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other before reaching for the shower curtain, half-expecting Steve to jump out at him.

“Ha!" The exclamation hung in the air as Eddie yanked the curtain to the side, revealing the lean, naked form of his boyfriend on the floor of the ceramic tub, slumped against the side.

“Oh, fuck—ohfuck—okay—uh—Hey! Steve! You okay?”

Eddie reached in to shut off the water and sat on the edge of the bathtub to lean over Steve, shaking him gently by the shoulder.

“Shit... shitshitshit... Steve! Hey!" Eddie eyed him with mounting panic, mentally compiling a list of emergency phone numbers, "Wake up, damnit!”

“Mmm—” the jock stirred, his forehead creasing under his dripping hair in annoyance as he mumbled, “five more minutes.”

Eddie stood up and cocked his head in bewilderment, "What the fuck?”

“Wha—” Steve sniffed groggily, “what’s going on?”

Eddie raised his hands to his hips, “Are you kidding me?”

Steve cracked an eyelid to glance quizzically at him, “Oh, hey, Eds. Everything okay?”

The cold air against his wet skin suddenly reminded him of where he was and he looked up at the trickling showerhead, his face reddening as he scrambled to cover himself.

“Oh, damn,” he groaned, running a hand over his face, “did I fall asleep again?”

"Asleep??" Eddie blinked in surprise but sighed with relief, “Again?! Is this a thing you do regularly?”

“I—uh—“

“You scared the shit out of me!”

“Gee, man, I’m sorry—"

"Thought I was gonna have to drag your naked ass out of there myself."

"It’s just a thing I did—do—ever since I was a kid—”

Eddie scoffed playfully, “Well... don’t fuckin' do it again.”

The sheepish grin he received by way of an apology all but dissolved any trace of genuine exasperation. It was a dumb thing to be mad at him for, anyway.

Eddie rolled his eyes and grabbed the towel from where it hung on the wall to throw it at Steve, hitting him in the face.

“Dry yourself off before you get all pruny. The show's about the start!”

***

It wasn't until later, during a moment of intimacy on the sofa, Miami Vice muted in the background and Steve's eyes locked shyly on their intertwined fingers and the prominent veins that traveled up Eddie's forearm, that Steve had explained how he'd adopted the practice of locking himself in the bathroom as a kid. The running water was enough to partially drown out the sound of his parents arguing in the living room, and he would stay in there a little longer each time, allowing the steady rhythm and comfort of the warm water to lull him to sleep—until he would inevitably be startled awake by the sound of his father slamming the front door behind him in a rage, followed by a hurried knock on the bathroom door and his mother yelling from the other side that he was on his own for dinner. Again.

In Steve's defense, he didn't do it every time... and in Eddie's, he couldn't just not tease him mercilessly for it when he did.

Eddie laid his guitar aside. He was careful not to make too much noise as he snuck to the bathroom, expertly opening and closing the door behind him without a single creak. Once again, the only sound to meet his ears upon entering was the hiss of the water.

He slowly drew back the shower curtain to the familiar sight of Steve curled up beneath the steaming water, damp hair clinging to his flushed cheeks.

Eddie smiled fondly at the shallow rise and fall of his chest and heaved an exaggerated sigh, reluctant to disturb the serenity of the moment.

But they had a game to catch. Lucas would be taking inventory of the party from the basketball court, and God forbid he and Steve show up late to anything together. He could hear the obnoxious kissy noises and prying questions now.

Eddie leaned in to wrap his fingers around the cross-handle knob and, with a quick twist, turned it as far to the left as it would go without shutting off completely.

Steve shrieked, cursing incoherently and clambering to shut off the freezing water.

“SHIT!” he panted, eyes wide when he realized he wasn’t alone. In a daze, he grasped the shower curtain to pull it closed, but instead, managed to tear down the metal rod that it hung from. The curtain rod bounced off his head and clattered against the tile as it came to rest in Steve’s lap.

“Gah! Fuck!” he hissed.

Eddie snorted and clamped a hand over his own mouth to keep from laughing as Steve glared daggers at him behind a veil of wet hair, looking like a drowned rat.

A very pissed off drowned rat.

The vision of the so-called King of Hawkins High—usually so smooth; so collected—now fixing him with what was obviously supposed to be an intimidating scowl while sitting naked and waterlogged in his bathtub made Eddie cackle so hard that he had to brace himself against the bathroom sink.

“I’m glad my suffering is so amusing to you,” Steve mocked.

“You should have seen your face, Harrington!” Eddie wheezed as he doubled over at the waist.

Steve blinked and shook his head, tossing his wet hair out of his face.

Eddie's laughter trailed off, “I’m sorry, babe, but you've been in here forever!”

“Oh, shit, you’re right. What time is it?”

“Almost 5:30.”

Steve groaned as he shifted to get his feet under him but failed against the slippery tub floor.

"Damnit, you need to put something in here."

"You mean, like, those... adhesive rubber ducks?"

"Yeah," Steve sneered, "I mean, like, those adhesive rubber ducks."

Eddie watched with glee as Steve made a second attempt to stand and extended his arm, "Don't just stand there, Munson, help me!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez," he grasped Steve's wrist to help him up, only to be yanked off his own feet, falling over the side of the bathtub and into Steve’s lap as he reached up to turn the water back on.

“You dick!” Eddie screeched, "what the hell—" he froze as his words melted into Steve’s mouth.

He instantly relaxed into him, the lukewarm water beating down on them all but forgotten as the tip of Steve's tongue teasingly slid past his lips. Eddie purred against his mouth and Steve withdrew with a cocky smirk. Eddie started as if to protest, but exhaled a heavy breath and hung his head.

“Alright. We're even."

“Mm, let's get you out of these wet clothes,” Steve said, tugging on the hem of Eddie's soaked t-shirt.

“Woah, there, big guy,” Eddie splayed a hand on Steve's chest in a gentle halting motion, “did you forget we’re on a schedule?”

Steve paused, immediately dropping the Casanova act with a petulant huff, “Aw, man!”

Eddie chuckled and pecked him on the cheek as he rose, pulling Steve up with him. He wrung his damp, unruly hair out over the bathtub before twisting to grab a towel and unceremoniously throwing it at Steve’s face. He then grabbed one for himself.

Steve cautiously stepped out of the tub onto the worn plush mat, securing the towel around his waist.

Knowing they couldn’t afford to waste anymore time, Eddie resigned to getting ready in the bedroom so as to allow Steve and his Hair™ their allotted time alone—but not before planting a playful smack on Steve's ass. Steve yelped and grumbled under his breath as he turned to his reflection and the white aerosol can with the picture of Farrah Fawcett that smiled at him from the counter.

Suddenly the door opened again and Eddie peeked in, "Hey, Harrington."

Steve paused mid-spray and rolled his eyes at him in the mirror, "Yeah?"

Eddie clicked his tongue with a wink and the cringiest finger-gun gesture he could manage, “Rain check.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #ficlet #established relationship

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tadpoles-and-daydreams · 24 days

Text

Why I cuss (affectionately) at my deities, sometimes, and why it's important to me

I'm having some feelings tonight, so here have another "Frog is rambling again" post. This one's about Loki, because they seem intent on speedrunning teaching me shit. Seriously it's been like three weeks.

I wasn't prepared for what working with Loki actually looks like. /pos

Because what that actually looks like, apparently, is sitting watching a comedy anime and getting the distinct vibe that it has a sense of humor that Loki enjoys. And then realizing that's because Loki is actively hanging around... watching fuckin' anime with me. Why the hell would Loki want to watch a dumb comedy anime with the funny little guy he works with?

Seeing a post about watching comedy as a devotional act to Loki later felt intentional, so I ended up deciding to do just that.

Thing is, I grew up exposed to the idea that God is an all-powerful being who deserves nothing less than the best and humans are the scum of the earth. I'm only now seeing that it's been damaging my relationship with my deities. I'm afraid to just chat with them 'too casually.' I apologize if I feel like I said something that's too disrespectful. I've apologized to Loki multiple times because he pulled some shit and my response was "god damnit Loki" or "you motherfucker."

And then they remind me that I call my mom the same thing, and she laughs. It's the same with my friends. All because it's not insulting, or disrespectful, it's a sign of affection. I would never say that and mean it; they know that, so it's funny. It's playful.

Amongst many other things, Loki is teaching me that joy is to be valued. This world tells us that it's dumb, childish, or any other assortment of negative descriptors- and that it has no place in spirituality. Certainly no place in the presence of a god- and that's fucking sad. I think Loki is sad about it too. I think Loki's fucking pissed, actually. How dare we be made to feel shame for what makes us happy. The gods deserve to partake in our joy and our fun just as much as they deserve to be part of our sorrow and fear.

Maybe it's just me, but I'm starting to think that hanging out with some fucker who's scrolling through memes and blasting music might just be a nice change of pace for them.

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anime-addict-362 · 1 year

Text

Better Than a Street Whore

CW: NSFW, Shigaraki x Y/N, bottom Shigaraki, he threatens to kill Y/N a lot, begging, overstimulation, lots of kissing, half-assed written aftercare, Y/N switches between degrading his dick and prasing him for being good, I wrote this within 2 hours, forgive me, it was out of boredom promise

× × × × × ×

Shigaraki stood in front of Y/N. Why did she need to be there? She was hired by All For One, but she didn't do anything. Just sat around on her phone all day.

Despite her lack of work, All For One demanded she be there, and he was not allowed to kill her. Damnit.

"Can you leave," He asked, annoyed with the sound of her nails clacking on her phone screen.

"Nah," Y/N didn't even look at him, still typing. "Big man wants me here. I gotta be here."

"Why," Shigaraki scoffed.

"I dunno," She shrugged. "Ask him, he's your master or whatever."

"I-"

"And what is up with that," Y/N rolled her eyes. "Master used outside of the bathroom? Weird."

He blinked. What was she talking about? What did she mean, outside of the bedroom?

"Don't tell me you're confused," She finally looked up from her phone, to look at him amused. "Not bitch boy being a virgin."

Not allowed to kill her. He was allowed to hurt her.

She dodged the glass that flew towards her head with a yelp, and she grabbed her phone before she could drop it.

"I'm not a virgin," He yelled over the glsss shattering.

"Jesus," She mumbled. "It was just a goddamn joke. The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Real fucking funny," He rolled his eyes.

"So," She asked, standing up fully. "Who'd you lose your virginity to?"

His eyes widened. "None of your goddamn business!"

He wanted to dust her when she approached, but no, he wasn't allowed to.

"I bet you used that nomu," She pouted, ignoring his rage filled look. "You needed to feel in control for once so you took something you could order around with no consequence."

"I- I absolutely-"

"Or," She smirked, running a hand on his tense stomach. "You had it fuck you until you couldn't breath, just to get out of your mind for a bit. I could only imagine the cock one those things-"

Shigaraki smacked her hands when she started estimating the... girth of a potential nomu penis. "They don't even have a penis!"

"Oh," Y/N looked to him. "Still big fingers. One is around the size over a bigger than average human dick. I get you could take multiple though-"

"I'm going to murder you," She yelped with a laugh as he reached for her, and she ran.

"No killing me," She squealed as he threw her on the couch. "It's not allowed! Your master wouldn't like it!"

He groaned. Of course he told her about the rule. "Just- Leave. Get out."

"I can't," She shrugged, relaxing back. "Not for a few weeks."

He walked away, but like a fucking dog, she followed with a giggle. "So? Did you fuck the nomus?"

"No," He yelled.

"You can tell me," She pouted. "I'll share one of my fucked up sex stories if you tell me yours."

"No," He scoffed.

"Virgin," She accused.

"Shut up," He grabbed another cup but she was taking it from him before he could chuck it at her.

"Are you a virgin," This time, her tone of genuine. "No laughing, promise."

He blinked, confused on why she cared... Fuck it. Maybe it'll get her to back off.

"No," He answered honestly. "And it wasn't a nomu, you sick freak."

She shrugged. "So who was it?"

Shigaraki moved uncomfortably, shrugging. "I don't remember her name. Just a hook up from awhile ago."

"So it didn't mean anything," She looked judgey. "Have you had any meaningful sex?"

He scoffed. "I lead a very large group of murderous villains. What makes you think I have time for feelings?"

She shrugged, and he jumped at her grabbing his hand. She held it up by the palm, then traced his fingers once she turn it upright.

"Are you trying to kill yourself," He mumbled, watching her fingers trace his calloused hand.

"This is not nearly a suicide attempt," She chuckled. "How do you have sex with absolutely no feeling behind it? I never understood the hype around that."

He gulped as her hand continued up his arm. "I- I don't know. It's just how it is."

She hummed, a hand going to his chest. "You're not pushing me away."

She was right. He wasn't.

"I don't have meaningful sex," He tried to tell her, both of her hands now on him. "I don't let feelings get involved."

"That's not exactly what meaningful sex means," She mumbled, pulling his shirt up suddenly. "At least not to me."

He helped pull the shirt off. God, it was hot in there. She shoved him against the bar, hands holding his waist. He was awfully skinny, so she grabbed quite a bit of him just like that.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," She whispered, going to his neck. "Gonna let me? Let me make you feel amazing."

He huffed, staring at her body, that was pressed up against his. He gasped at the bite on his neck. "Fuck- Yes. Yes Y/N."

She grinned, bringing a hand up to wrap in his hair. She held him in place while she kissed him, roughly. He groaned, gripping the counter behind him.

"You're hot," She grinned, hands swiping over his ribs. "Lead me to your room."

Was he really about to do this? Was he really about to have sex with a woman he finds insanely annoying?

He didn't need to answer that, because the way he pulled her to his bedroom was answer enough.

Y/N pulled him back into a rough kiss the second the door was closed, pushing him against it.

"Now, listen up," She grabbed his face, holding it in place so he stayed looking at her. "I want you touching me, so go put on those silly gloves you have."

Shigaraki huffed, but listened. He moved to his nightstand and grabbed them, slipping them on easily. Once on, Y/N was back in him, kissing him, hands wandering.

He leaned down after a few moments, and picked her up to wrap her legs around his waist. "Okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay," Y/N confirmed with a small smile. She removed her arms around him to pull her shirt off... God, he better not drop her. She would be pissed.

In his defense, he seemed to be somewhat strong. At least enough to hold her.

Once the shirt was off, she proceeded to kiss down his neck. "Lay down on the bed, Shigaraki. Sit me right on you."

Shigaraki wasn't sure he had it in him to refuse. Not with the way her sweet voice sounded, so close to his ear, the way her hand tangled in his hair, the other running down his chest again.

So he sat on the bed, making sure Y/N's legs weren't trapped under him before he laid back. He didn't even think over how good Y/N would look straddling him.

Y/N smiled when she noticed Shigaraki's eyes wandering. "Like what you see?"

"It's decent," Shigaraki huffed.

Y/N pouted at that. "We both know that's a lie. I can tell by the way your face is already burning, you think much different."

Shigaraki gulped, looking up to Y/N. "I don't-"

"I also feel your hard on," Y/N chuckled, putting her hands on either side of his head. "Why not just tell me how you feel? You might get something in return."

He stared at her. "Like?"

"You're a smart man, Shigaraki. Look at our position and take a guess about what I'll do to you," She chuckled. "So? Go on."

He looked her in the eye. "You're fucking infuriating."

"Ouch," She put a hand on her heart. "Keep going."

"You're... attractive, I guess," He cleared his throat, refusing to let his voice crack right now.

"Attractive? Care to elaborate?"

God fuck, this woman.

"I hate you," He groaned, feeling a hand move to the waistband of his pants.

"I'll leave you all hard if you don't start doing what I ask," Y/N's voice was lower now, as if she wss threatening him.

He didn't care though. He could get himself off. He didn't need Y/N to make him come, even if he would probably regret it later... What would Y/N do?

Would she suck him off? Or would they just start having sex? He would enjoy either way but-

He gasped at the hand that grabbed his face, forcing him to look to Y/N. "I'm sitting right here, about to give you the best orgasm of your pathetic life and you're ignoring me?"

"No- I wasn't ignoring you," He went onto explain. But it was hard to explain the way his thoughts got caught up. It didn't matter though, because he remembered what she wanted.

"You're so hot," He huffed, grabbing the wrist of the hand that still held his face. "You're... Pretty too."

Y/N knew the word "pretty" wasn't ever in his vocabulary, but it did sound good coming out of his mouth, in that shaky voice.

"Pretty huh," She grinned, kissing him and finally letting go of his face. "You're pretty yourself, handsome."

He gulped at the compliment. He wasn't sure he liked the compliment, it sounded unrealistic. Him? Pretty? Handsome?

He wasn't given a lot of time to think it over, not with Y/N moving between his legs and pulling his sweatpants snd boxers off in one swipe.

"Y/N," He huffed, feeling her kiss the inside of his thighs. Why was she so bold? Why was she so close?

She kept kissing him, feeling his breathing picking up the closer she got to his dick. She really wanted to see him come, and she wanted it to be the best he's ever had.

Not that would be that hard. She's not the most experienced person in the world but compared to some random woman on the street? Odds are she was way better.

After a few moments, she reached down to her shirt pocket. Sweet, she still had a few condoms left.

"You know, I do think you're very attractive," Y/N spoke up, opening the condom. "I'm sure a lot of the fucked up women on the street want to have some fun with you. Probably even some men."

Shigaraki huffed. What do you say in response to that? Thanks?

"That being said, I think you're a little of a whore and always accept when someone asks to fuck you," Y/N's words made him tense.

"I am not-"

"What I'm getting at," Y/N interrupted him. "Is that I have a hard time believing you don't have some sort of STI. God knows what the people around here have. Especially Dabi."

Shigaraki scoffed. "I don't have an STI."

"Yeah? And who tested you, and when," Y/N raided an eyebrow. "I'm already lowering my standards to give you a decent orgasm, one better than those street sluts can give you, don't get picky now."

Shigaraki gulped as she slid the condom on him. "So what? You think I have a STI and you're still going to have sex with me?"

Y/N grinned. "Oh I'm not fucking you until you get tested. I'm just gonna get you off, and you're gonna get me off. But I'm sure I'll have to teach you, I doubt you know how to properly please a woman."

He glared at her. "Why are you suddenly being a bitch?"

She raised an eyebrow. "So you do know how to make a woman come? And you know, not one of those fake ones. I promise, I won't fake it."

He didn't even know what to say. What do you say to anything she's saying? She was nuts!

He groaned when her hand grabbed his dick, which was now completely covered by the condom. "If you're not gonna fuck me, what's with the condom?"

"You don't have running water here," Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Your dick is probably gross. Again, you seem like a great fuck, but I'm lowering my standards for you. They are practically rock bottom right now."

Shigaraki glared at her harder. "I could kill you at any moment."

"You're right," She smiled softly, starting to jack him off at a gentle pace. "You could. But you're not going to. You like me calling you gross. You're practically whimpering just because my hand is wrapped around your filthy cock. It twitches whenever I insult you. You fucking love this, being under me, just taking my insults."

Shigaraki groaned when she squeezed his cock suddenly, and very hard. He felt like he was close, all her dumb (and very untrue...) words were getting to him.

"Y/N," He gasped, trying to get her hand off of him.

"Beg," She grinned wildly. "Beg me to make you come, tell me how much you love me degrading your filthy cock. Do it."

He whimpered, grabbing her wrist. God, her grip was fucking tough.

"Please," He whispered.

"Hm?"

"Please," He yelled out, holding her arm. "Fuck- Please Y/N, make me come. Degrade me, do whatever, just please, make me come."

...he was pathetic. What was wrong with him?

Y/N hummed, loosening her hand. "Keep going."

"Fuck," He breathed out at the relief. "Please Y/N, god fuck, I need it. I'm so close, please."

He might kill himself later, honestly.

She chuckled, and moved her hand, just enough to get him to come. "I've heard better. But I guess I can't expect too much from you."

Shigaraki moaned, stomach tensing. "Y/N- Oh god."

"C'mon," Y/N grinned, hand moving quicker. "You can come, Tomura. You're doing so good, keep going."

Her suddenly, sickeningly sweet words made his heart tighten, and he eyes roll back. "Fuck- Y/N- please."

She leaned forward and kissed him. He moaned in her mouth, a hand going up to her back. He needed something to hold.

Y/N hissed as his free fingers caught on her skin, but just moved her hand quicker. And it worked, because he was moaning aloud again, as he came, filling the condom.

He whimpered when her hand didn't stop, and moved the hand on her back to her hip to grab more. "Y/N, please, I came already."

"It wasn't good enough," Y/N kissed just under his ear. "I wanna see you crying. I wanna hear you yell my name, I need you begging me to stop because you can't handle how good it feels."

Shigaraki let out a sob, her hand not letting up the quick pace at all. "Y/N- Its too much, please."

"You're doing so good," She whispered, and kissed his jaw. "You're taking it so good, you're being so good for me. You can take another one, I know you can."

He nodded slowly, barely aware of the fact he was drooling. He laid his head back as she kissed him. She was so sweet now. What changed? Did he do something to make her want to be nice all of the sudden?

"Y/N," He moaned quietly against her lips. "Please- I don't think I can-"

"You can," She whispered again, sending a weird feeling through Shigaraki. "You're doing so good already. I know you can be even better."

He felt another sob rip through his chest. "Be mean again- Stop."

She hummed, kissing him. "Why would I be mean when you're being such a good boy? You deserve to be treated nicely after listening,to me so well."

He moaned as her hand twisted around the head of his cock, spreading the come throughout the condom. "I'm- I'm close again- Y/N, god."

"Good boy," She hummed. "C'mon, be a good boy and come for me."

He sobbed and he felt his orgasm build up again. It was a lot, almost overwhelming. "It's- I'm coming- Y/N," He moaned shakily as he came, feeling tears fall as her hand helped him through it.

"Good job," She whispered, stopping her hand. "Such a good job."

He took a deep breath, but it only came out uneven and shaky. He yelped when her hand tightened and moved down the length of his cock slowly.

"Y/N, please," He sobbed, hands shaking, and hips pulling away.

She laughed, pulling her hand away. "Now tell me... Was that better or worse compared to those street whores?"

"Better," He sobbed again, her legs just barely brushing up again his cock. "So much better- Fuck!"

She couldn't stop grinning. But she decided to have some mercy, and stop touching his dick until he calmed down. For now, she just held him, arms wrapping around him.

She sighed at the sob and his arms wrapping around her back, tears wetting her shoulder. "You did such a good job, Tomura. Go ahead and rest."

Why was he still crying? It was done, they were done. But her consistent praise wasn't helping.

"Take a deep breath, Tomura. You did so good, you're done," She kissed his neck. "C'mon, take a deep breath now."

He was way past the point of feeling silly, so he just listened to her, taking a deep breath. He noticed something wet on his hand so he looked to where it restrd on Y/N back.

"I'm sorry," He breathed out, noticing he definitely made her bleed with scratches... It was hard to go out and get nail clippers, okay? Fuck off.

Y/N found the apology comical. He threatened to kill her multiple times and now he was apologizing for a scratch. She made the decision to lot laugh though.

"It's okay," She smiled softly, kissing his cheek. "I'm gonna clean you up, okay?"

He shook his head. "No- I need to make you-"

"It's okay, Tomura," She sat up, out of his arms. "It's alright. You're tired, you need to rest. And I'm going to clean you up."

He nodded, wiping the tears from his face.

It took a few minutes for the embarrassment to set in. It seemed the moment Y/N was cleaning his come covered dick was the moment he lost his humanity, and was officially a disgrace of a villain.

"Oh stop," Y/N scoffed as he tried to pull away. "So dramatic, its just your own dick."

He huffed, face red. "I'm good- Please leave."

"Uh huh," She finally stopped, throwing the towel next to the bed. "Get your eyes off my tits, perv."

"Put your shirt back on," He argued back.

She shrugged, and grabbed her shirt. "I'll be downstairs," He watched her get up and walk out his bedroom. "You owe me an orgasm!"

#mha smut #x reader #x y/n #dom y/n #dom reader #sub Shigaraki #bottom shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura Shigaraki x y/n #top reader #dom reader x Shigaraki

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thesupreme316 · 4 months

Note

How aew men react to yn being girl version of them

nick wayne x female reader, darius martin x female reader, hook x female reader, action andretti x female reader, dante martin x female reader, Eddie kingston x female reader, ricky starks x female reader

AEW STARS REACT TO: You being them in a different font

Pairings: Nick Wayne x female reader, Darius Martin x female reader, Hook x female reader, Action Andretti x female reader, Dante Martin x female reader, Eddie Kingston x female reader, Ricky Starks x female reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Supreme Speaks: hey yall happy new year! hope everyone is doing well! here is my hc for today, plz enjoy! and remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warning: none i think

Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Ricky Starks

Omg does he have a field day with you

But y’all aren’t exactly friends but frenemies

Like on some mean girls type shit

Cause you are the exact same; slick, fabulous, luxurious, and funny

Sometimes you be stumping him with your comebacks

Ricky: At this point, I’ll join the circus

You: You don't have enough talent to join the circus…but then again you are a clown

Cue yall weakly slapping each other

Loves to bicker with you

Hates when other people are bickering with you; will jump to your defense

Eventually, you become the Gunther and Tinka (from shake it up) of AEW

You two frequently share Pinterest boards and give fashion advice to each other

At this point, you two are either color-coordinating or complete opposites in outfits

Will text you and see you as the only person who understands him (in front of Taz, Hook, Big Bill)

Yall go on friendly dates and love to gossip

Ricky: And they were roommates

You: Not the roommates

Ricky: Right?!

Nick Wayne

You’re a sibling to him

Personality wise: you are both shy golden retrievers

THAT IS THE BEST WAY I CAN DESCRIBE NICK

I think yall got along because no one else was around your age that thought the way yall do

Nick was shy about meeting others until he got introduced to you

Now you talk all the time

Loves exploring new parts of arenas or working Christian’s nerves

I can just see him being annoyed at the point that there are two Nicks

I also see Nick’s energy being on low until you come around

THEN HE’S BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS

Hates when people pick on you, and he goes to your rescue

…

Now both of you are pouting in a corner cause yall got your feelings hurt (think of Tamaki from ouran high school host club)

I also think that you would be his personal journal (he’ll tell you everything)

He feels comfortable telling you stuff because he knows you’re gonna keep it

Or you’ll just forget about it and you have to pretend you know what he’s talking about

Darius Martin

YALL ARE SO CUTE

He calls you his reflection

Cause he said looking at you is like looking at a mirror

Yall are the most unproblematic duo ever

Have yall seen fights where people in the background are in their own little world?

Yeah…that’s yall

You two are so unbothered by the drama around you

I feel like he would see you like as a sibling so everything he tells Dante, he tells you

You are on speed dial; he calls you now more than he calls his brother

Secretly Dante’s jealous of the relationship between you and Darius

Asks you to do the simplest of tasks like braid his hair or record his training sessions

I also feel like so many people would think yall are dating the way he treats you

He always holds the door, pulls out your chair, keeps on the inside of the sidewalk, will hold your hand if you want as you two walk

To him, it’s not romantic (it is to me damnit), it’s just him being a gentleman and doing the bare minimum (AS A MAN SHOULD)

Because of him, you raise your standards for men

But it doesn’t feel right without him next to you

Hook

Mans secretly in love with you

I think he would think your personality is refreshing cause he doesn’t see it often in women

At first he thought it was a gimmick or you’re trying to get him to like you

But nope, this is you 100%

Many people think it would be boring between you two

Nope…just comfortable silence

Tbh yall are the real unbothered duo; truly not giving a fuck about anything around yall

Can tell your thoughts just by looking at you

Over time, I think he sees you as a bestie OR SO HE THINKS

Allows you to handle your own business cause he knows you can handle yourself

Is always surprised by how well you know him

He’s just not used to anyone really remembering small details about him

He made sure that you were a part of the Lads now

The group welcomed you with open arms

I think he forgets that you’re in the room sometimes with how silent you are

OOO idea: he teaches you Italian so you two can talk in private in public

He also buys you the same hoodies and sweatpants that he wears…cause yall already take each other’s anyways

Action Andretti

Yall are the Himbo/Bimbo combo (non-derogatory)

…

You share the same braincell

Respectfully of course

Like yall look so cute and cool okay? You guys are sweethearts

BUT JESUS SOMETIMES-

You two are truly in your own world

(respectfully again, don’t take it seriously billy)

Yall are not unbothered but just oblivious to the drama around you two

He pulls out the best jokes for you just to hear you laugh

Yall just get hyper together a lot

I wanna say you two together are very innocent and happy-go-lucky

But it is very balanced between the two of you

Everyone who sees you, can’t help but think that you two are adorable

Listen I think in terms of feelings developing, Andretti is too caught up in trying to make sure that you two are having a great friendship to see if anything can develop

If anything, he’s just happy to have you by his side and he doesn’t want anything to ruin it

Dante Martin

Yall have bff necklaces

Or bracelets

whatever you prefer

Very playful relationship yall have indeed

Dante will tell you everything but not his brother

Dante has see you every day, if not, it’s an off day for him

You two will say the same things at the same time like twins or some shit

I think it’s very surface-level thinking with your friendship

He really does appreciate you and he doesn’t really see you as anything more

If anything, he sees you as a little sister that he is molding to be more like him

Drags you everywhere

Super protective over you

Hates to exclude you

Like with Hook, He made you a part of the Lads

I feel like Dante takes you very seriously in terms of yall’s friendship

There’s never a dull moment with him

Eddie Kingston (one day I really want to do a character/in-depth analysis on him)

Compared to the other men on this list

Eddie would think about you subconsciously and really does see you as another version of himself

And it bothers him to a certain extent

because your attitude, actions, and even the way you talk is just like him

Right down to the stubbornness

Will try to tell you certain things to calm you down or anything but really it’s what he wants to hear himself

I also think he finally gets what everyone sees in him cause he can see it in you (underdog vibes)

He can’t tell if he loves you as a BFF or more

Cause he never really met a woman who has the same strong yet realistic mindset as him

And it makes him feel butterflies

But he really loves your hustle and how quick-witted you are

He also loves how true you are to yourself and how you won’t change for people

Knowing Eddie he rather keep your friendship than lose you entirely

Even though he’s very close to Ortiz, Santana, Mox, and Ruby

You are #1 to him

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sunnysam-my · 25 days

Note

It's ironic almost that Viv shoves "rep" into her shows and went out of her way to include a deaf child at an adult sex circus show for said "rep" but like. Fuck people with visual disabilities right? Because neither of those shows have considered how people with colorblindness or even mild visual impairment might not be able to even WATCH the shows with how bad their colour balancing is.

Viv has completely ignored that having unique designs and color palettes for your world and characters is not only basic design for cartoons but also how you maybe your show accessible to those who struggle visually

Funny you ask me that, I actually already made a post about that signing scene and distracting captioner's notes, because I have a hearing disorder and wanted to add my two cents.

I can't get over the fact the it wasn't a teenager around the age Fizz was when he went to that show with Blitzø. I genuinely can't think why they decided to have a young child be the fan other than it being more wholesome because it was a child.

Think for a second about why this scene there. Fizz was spiraling, consumed by thoughs of not being enough and being a "fake, sellout jester". He himself was a disabled teenager who wanted to be the greatest clown of his times. He ended up as a fake, sellout jester, just like Blitz said. But he saw himself in that kid. He saw for who really he wanted to perform. I don't think it would be as impactful to him if it was regular imp, but this would make infinitely more sense, on so many levels, if this was a teenager. But no, we gotta have a freaking child, because it's just way more cuter that way, right? I genuinely don't understand what other possible reasons for why this was a child, and not a teenager, could be.

I'm also still not over the fucking captions. I had problems with following what was happening in S02E06 of Helluva Boss, because of weirdly described sounds and big chunks of captioner's notes and jokes. That's unacceptable.

The irony of literally being an asshole to deaf/HoH people by purposeful fucking up the caption, the thing we rely on to be able watch a show, only to "give" a representation to said group next episode is almost funny.

But going back to the visuals, yes, it's so hard to watch. HB is better than Hazbin, but both aren't great if you have any sort of vision disorder, and this is coming from someone who just have the regular stuff, shortsightedness, astigmatism etc. The legally blind and colourblind folks must have it hard. HH is a joke when it comes to any sort of contrast. Even if they decided to stick to red(-ish) colours, there's still so much shades to work with. It isn't a impossible to make monochromatic art. In fact it's actually a popular training tool for young artists to learn how to do it even when you have more colours.

Here's some examples of monochromatic and mostly monochromatic art done right.

Now compare one of them with a screenshots from HH, both without saturation (black and white).

Hazbin Hotel isn't even monochromatic and fails miserably at any contrast. So no, it isn't just the problem of lack of hue (colour) differentces, it overall just failed at colour and contrast balancing, especially in the hotel, and there's no defending HH on this, because you have three sliders god damnit!

#hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #disability representation #disability pride #disability #art #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel #helluva boss

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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months

Text

fic rec friday 47

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Damnit, Pidge by spirkylurkey

Pidge has some top-secret-classified-don't-tell-Keith-info that she accidentally lets slip to, you guessed it, Keith. Lance is an embarrassed mess. Keith isn't faring much better, to be honest.

this one made me LAUGH the way that this all pidge's fault and she's literally like. well. you shouldn't be so gay then. and she's right!! they're so dumb i love them

2. Operation: Faking It by @writeonclara

“What the hell, guys?” Pidge squawked, wrestling away from Matt. “Why are you pretending to be a couple?” Or: Matt and Lance pretend to be a couple because Shiro and Keith are clueless as hell.

do you guys remember shatt?? i remember shatt. adashi will always have my heart but shatt will literally always be funny bc ofc thats ur fic name. anyways. this fic is mostly klance but the entire concept is just so ridiculously goofy that u have to laugh. do you like lance and matt? do you like fake relationship to real relationship? do you like inverted tropes? do you like pining? do you like comedic jealousy? then this fic is well and truly for you because it has all that and more

3. all's well that ends well to end up with you by @coruscatingcatastrophe

Keith's jacket gets ruined, so Lance decides to be a good Samaritan and give him his. This is the beginning of the end.

megan's fic literally make me want to eat cement i'm so serious. i've read and been obsessed with TONS of her stuff but this one???? this fucking one???? oh god the slowburn kills me. the blossoming realisation that oh god we've been dating this whole time huh. the CHIVALRY...............a romance novel in the truest of senses and i am going to fry

4. as long as it won't separate you from me (i'll be fine) by @coruscatingcatastrophe

A little intrigued—not that she’d ever admit it—Pidge begins to climb the stairs. But before she even reaches halfway, the door—slams shut. All on its own, or so it seems. Pidge pauses, brows creasing in confusion, as she turns to look down at her dog. “Did you see that?” she asks. Peculiarly, she notes that Bae Bae’s fur is bristled, and he growls at the door before barking twice. That’s weird. Bae Bae never growls. Turning back to the door, Pidge feels unsettled, but she tells herself not to jump to ridiculous conclusions. There’s a logical explanation for everything. Maybe there was a gust of wind from the air conditioner, or the doorframe isn’t level. Whatever it is, she’s going to figure it out. - Or, a Beetlejuice au (kind of). Pidge isn't a fan of her new house, Lance and Keith are the ghosts haunting her attic, and together they hatch a plot to convince Shiro and Adam to skedaddle out of the house. There may be demon summoning involved. But seriously, Adam. Getting your hair set on fire really isn't that bad.

HAPPY (late) HALLOWEEN!!! ive been thinking about this fic all october and finally let myself reread it. ive never loved beetlejuice more than when i read this. it's so fun!! so interesting!! pidge gets a chance to shine!! klance are so!!! the way it had the story of beetlejuice but adapted well!! im!!

5. never thought i'd see the day in my life by @coruscatingcatastrophe

But Keith has somehow gone even paler in the short amount of time he’s been at the table, and he shakes his head. “No, something is . . .” His gaze flickers back to Lance, and he’s startled to find that Keith’s eyes are purple. They’ve got to be contacts. Ridiculous. As if the mullet and gloves and personality weren’t enough. Keith pushes away from the table abruptly, looking incredibly put-off now. “I, uh—gotta go,” he mutters, before angrily gathering up the backpack he’d dropped into the chair next to him and storming out of the cafeteria. “Huh,” Hunk says. “Well, that introduction could have gone a bit better. Don’t take it personally though; sometimes Keith’s just like that.” - Or, a Twilight au starring Lance as Bella, Keith as Edward, and the rest of the Voltron gang as themselves. Lance is insufferable, Keith is awkwardly trying to figure out why Lance is the way he is, and along the way they fall in love, or something. It's probably, definitely the best love story since Twilight itself.

now ive never read twilight and i refuse to on principle. but i didn't find this one creepy and instead it was super fun and dweeby and lance is indeed a ray of sunshine, thank you megan for noticing, and it turns out when the story isn't a hetero mormon wet dream it's actually a good time!!

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

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oh-saints · 1 year

Note

ruben dias and daughter of pep guardiola.

man.. when i got this request, all i keep thinking about is some forbidden, enemy-to-lovers trope so here it is! i hope you like it!

enemy

you and rúben dias can never be in the same room and it's the main reason why your father's head balding. so what changes?

rúben dias x guardiola!reader

word count: 4.2k

tw: 18+ for graphic sexual contents included inside (aka a sprinkle of smut); drinking, swearing, unprotected sex (and some angry/hate sex)

note: i was writing something along the line of enemy-to-lovers but got stuck midway until this request came in from @kkilp so here we are. my first smut? dang that feels weird saying it was also inspired mildly by anthony and kate of bridgerton (TV series; s2, 2021) but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so ofc this is not proof-read and feedbacks are always welcome! (now lemme go back to repent my sin and go back writing the charles leclerc story i've got...)

“another flower from your daughter, isn’t it?”

rúben could hear one of the coaching staffs commented pep as the spaniard walked in with a huge bouquet of varied flowers on his arms, almost blinding the old man’s sight for direction. pep only laughed to answer his staff’s clarificatory question because it had indeed become a habit for that particular daughter of his to send a humongous array of flowers to her father whenever he and his team won something.

last night happened to be the time when the team had won another EPL title. thus, the biggest arrangement being sent to her father’s office. it was funny for some as she always matches the size to the prestigious level of a trophy.

but of course the entire building loves her. she’d sent each and everyone in this building a bouquet, directly to their houses, albeit in smaller size than the ones delivered for her father. but still, complete with the words hard work always pays off. congratulations, champions! typed perfectly in the middle of the card.

being a florist, she’d also send a basket to anyone who was celebrating with carnations, anyone who was newly having kids with hydrangeas, anyone who was injured with sunflowers.

but him.

he’d like to think himself as someone not petty so no—it wasn’t because he didn’t get a bouquet for himself. he could buy himself one so big the smell would’ve made him throw up for days if a mere basket of flowers was his problem. he just didn’t understand why people couldn’t see how she acted beyond the artificial care and love she’d faked behind those flowers.

rúben was probably the only one who couldn’t relate towards all of the love directed towards her. he could only hope the people would soon belief what he’d gone through, as everybody thought he was crazy for saying she was cold, aloof and rather unfriendly as of late.

as of late being the key word here because god damnit, they used to be so… close? well, he thought they were close but it seemed that for her, they were amicable at best. because one day, she just started to shut him off and she wasn’t shy to show him that. and only to him, no one else. no one of close friends would—and could—do that overnight.

it was similar to those mean girls kind of story plot where you know she’d give you scrutiny so directly but so indirectly in the eyes of everyone else. except that the ending was no where near, unfortunately, for she was now sporting off the cold shoulder to him throughout the whole EPL celebratory party.

rúben was inclined to believe she intended to rile him up even, as she danced the night away with those crazy drunkards he called his teammates. jack, kyle, john amongst the name. he prides himself in moderate amount every time he drinks and he intends to keep it while he’s still an active athlete, but fucking hell did he want to drink till his head bang in the same rhythm as the bass pounding the dance floor.

he just wanted to barge in the midst of the group and had fun with her, just like they used to back when he was still in his freshman year on the etihad side. if she didn’t like it, then good. it gave him the chance for confrontation of whatever it is she was doing.

fuck it, he’d said to himself as he got up from his seat, tired of being the sober friend to a bunch of kids. might as well have my fair share of fun, even if it didn’t involve getting her into the picture.

but in all honesty, she’d seen this move of his. this was what solidified her justification of staying away from him. the moment he was bored out of his mind, that was when he started preying for another long-legged bimbo to bring home.

she could only pray for the woman’s well-being afterwards because she’d learned it the hard way.

for her, rúben was siren personified. he’d talk his way to your pants, feeding you to his soul until you’re left dry. thank god he didn’t make it way past the whole sexual thing—she’d kept him at bay for so long that he’d got bored and the moment she was about to give in was the moment she found out about him moving on.

that night, when she dropped by his house for an impromptu netflix and chill session, when she was ready to accept whatever his advances that night. only for his leading lady to greet her by the door, wearing only lingerie and his shirt unbuttoned.

despite them going apart now, it never soothed her heartbreak.

but she had to see him all the time, thanks to her father’s job. that fact upset her beyond belief that she couldn’t seem to escape him. especially when everyone talks highly of him, when everyone loves him.

there were so many times she wanted to spill out the hot tea but she resisted because it wouldn’t do any good—for her, for him, for her father, for anyone. people would take her as a bitter bitch that didn’t get the dick, she’d held higher regards for herself than to stoop so low.

“let him go and have fun with me.”

the club’s lightning was too dark for her to make out who the hell that was, whispering behind her like he had the world in his palm. obnoxious dick, she’d muttered to herself.

“what did you just say?”

“go away.”

men, couldn’t take a no for his answer as he grabbed her wrist rather harsh, trying to exert some power over her. “no, you didn’t—"

“she said go away, mate,” weird how she knew it was rúben standing behind her before she could see him. “which part of that sentence did you not understand? should i cut off your hands instead?”

the stranger tried to hard not to be intimidated by rúben’s stare but his grip on her hands said the otherwise. “you wouldn’t.”

“would you like to try?”

if she wasn’t just assaulted by the man, she would’ve taken a pity because rúben seething anger and deep distaste like you’re a disgusting human being that doesn’t deserve to live wasn’t something she’d like to experience herself.

“are you okay?”

she didn’t realise she was watching the man scurried off as if he’d caught on fire when rúben went ahead and touched her herself. she’d froze at her place, not knowing where to stand because his hand was placed exactly where the unwanted touch happened—partly she got reminded of what had just happened to her, partly she’d gladly take rúben’s touch over anyone else she didn’t know of.

“hey, you’re okay?”

she couldn’t comprehend what was happening and it felt suffocating to be the centre of everyone’s attention, so she dashed for the restroom for a bit of space.

“talk to me,” she could hear rúben’s voice from the other side of the door, solid 10 minutes after she entered the loo. he’d understood, she whispered to herself as if it was a wonder rúben was smarter than he let on. “please say you’re okay.”

as if she didn’t know the rúben that deserted her for another woman.

god, she hated him for doing this to her. “go away, rúben!”

“like hell i will,” he spat ferociously behind the doors that it startled her. but the soft voice that followed after was more shocking it ran shivers down her back. “i need to know you’re okay.”

the caring thought that laced his words didn’t escape her because she knew, no matter of an asshole rúben was, rúben was always genuine with his words. it was his past actions and the difference between actions and words that scarred her for life—well, at least up until now.

but it was enough for her to choose to shut up instead of acting based on her turmoil of emotions. she’d silently tidy up, fixing her hair and lipstick, while watching the women coming out of the loos one by one till it was only her left. in hope he’d left if she stayed inside for far too long for his liking, then she could sneak out of this place from the backdoor.

all plans were shattered, though, when the door slammed wide open and revealed rúben bulldozing his way inside like a monster truck exhibition. the veins on his arms and neck was bulging angrily, as angry as his face.

“what the fu—”

“i said i need to know you’re okay,” after he spit the words as if that should be obvious to her, he then proceeded to lock the door behind him. “didn’t you hear?”

cowards, afraid anyone walk on you in a woman’s bathroom? “i did, but it doesn’t mean i have to answer you.”

“puta madre,” if she didn’t hold on to the painful memory he’d learned spanish from the ex-girlfriend she met one night too long ago, she’d go meek and weak at his impeccable multilingual tongue. “you’re so frustrating! why is it so hard for you to tell me so?”

“why do want to know?”

“because some asshole just groped you in the ass!” one of his hands shot towards her direction, gesturing from her head to toe in frustration. of her not seeing his point. “surely you’re not okay. no one is after such terrible event.”

“there, you said it youself. i’m not okay,” she rolled her eyes at his reply, hands folding in front of her chest. “why do you care, anyway?”

he shot him a look that was scaring her, and not of the violence he was capable of doing. “do i have to have a reason to care about you?”

“go back in there, rúben,” she tried to stand her ground, faking a rather tired expression when, in fact, she was masking her fear as he dared himself to step closer to her direction. “your drunk friends need your care more than i do.”

his eyes remained intense, burning her down as if she was merely a clothing to burn, as he stepped in front of her. his strong aura forced her to look up at him, and she tried to put some defiance into it in order to show she was in control. or trying to.

“but i don’t care about them,” he lowered his voice as he didn’t see the need to speak louder when his opponent was right under his nose. he knew he’d got her when she shifted her stance from the right leg to her left one. “i care about you.”

the statement obviously caught her off guard, as outmost surprised laced the pair of eyes that—luckily—resembled her mother more. rúben took the chance to close down the gap between their lips, as fast as lightning before she changed her mind, goading her to open up.

as soon as he heard her groaning in surrender, the inside of him ignited in delight. rúben pushed more than what she thought she could give, for he knew she could give more than she thought. his effort drove her to the edge of the sink behind her and she grunted at the crash against the porcelain, but bloody hell the sound effected rúben so much he felt blood rushing south and adrenaline took over his brain.

he’d lifted her up and placed her on the sink in a pace so swift she’d only managed to blink once. he’d slid his hands down her calf, up north towards the rim of her sundress, and she gasped at his ardent touch. felt so hot against the air conditioner of a room so big but only filled with the two of them.

rúben took the liberty to explore her mouth the moment the passage was opened. despite having his eyes closed, he savoured each and every stroke he made for the mental map of hers and he savoured the feeling of her hands sliding everywhere her hands could reach in desperation to hold on for herself while her body unconsciously gave away her control the moment rúben touched the edges of her panties.

she’d arched her back so flexibly rúben had to pull back a bit and admired the crescent shape she was bending herself to be. but not even the moon could compare with the beauty puny in his hands, with pink mauve lipstick smeared lightly and dishevelled hair against the mirror.

“god, you’re beautiful,” and it was all it took for her to sit up and grab his shirt to forcefully meet her lips halfway.

and for rúben, nothing was sexier than when a woman tried to put up a fight against him, even after well-knowing he’d win anyway. so he’d let her think she won, nuzzling his nose downwards, smelling her perfume, her body odour and her desperation all in one. he’d left kisses on his way down, the same moment his hands peeled down the flimsy strap of her sundress, and he swore he’d never touch finer things than the shape of her.

he’d palmed every surface his hands could reach, and took every choked breaths she emitted from his touch. but when he touched the centre of her underwear and felt the drip she was heavily producing, he’d become a goner. he couldn’t take it anymore.

without detaching his lips from her healthy skin, he pulled back an inch to give himself space to undo his pants. when she realised this, she’d drop her hands from his hair and shoulder to help him stash away the jeans. they laughed at this somehow, before they turned muted when rúben dias junior was out of the cage, standing tall and unwavering like him.

the anticipation killed him because jesus christ, with the desire running down her face, he wouldn’t be able to do much anymore. so he kissed her before she could have any second thoughts while his hands aligned himself to her. the first skin-to-skin contact left them breathless, in every literal sense of the word, and rúben could see what she was feeling before she could say anything. the way she closed her eyes in ecstasy as he slipped himself inside of her couldn’t lie.

“oh shit,” he’d read normally women was the only who went all goo at a drop to a man’s voice, but this time rúben could piss himself hearing her doing it. “that feels so good.”

eyes closed, slow pants coming out of that gaping mouth and fucking hell she looks amazingly sexy. and she feels like how she looked like, good god. rúben couldn’t stop his hands from grabbing the sides of her face, some hairs scrunched in them, accidentally closing some parts of her mouth but it didn’t stop her from letting out hot, broken breaths when rúben started moving out of her.

“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” the portugese giant nipped the bottom lips that looked so juicy from all the kisses exchanged between them, from him. “all for me, huh?”

“yes, you—oh!” she yelped like a siren when rúben slammed himself back to her. “do it right, rúben. do me right.”

rúben didn’t need further command to that, for sure.

she moaned so disgustingly dirty as he guided his cock back and forth, inside and out the now-slick fold, to the brink of heaven on earth. every time he pulled out, she’d moan in pleading, desperate to have all of him inside of her that anyone hearing her whimper would definitely take a pity on her.

“fuck! right there!” she screamed in pleasure as she held rúben’s wrist that was holding her in the face and she wasn’t lying about it. with the way she was rocking his girth and the pressure she’d put on her grip, she was close to the edge. “right there, right there!”

“come on, baby. let go for me.”

fuuuuuuck! ugh, fuck, fuck!

“oh yes, that’s right, baby,” he was now panting so hard the mirror above her was now covered in mist, but how could he stop himself when he looked down and there was the most amazing sight he’d set his eyes on. he ended where she began and she ended where he began. “that’s my girl.”

something inside of her clicked like the electric circuit and all the sudden it was black. but not a frightening blackout, more like black with stars on the back of her head. “fuck, rúben—”

rúben?

rúben dias?

the moment her brain registered the voice indeed belong to rúben dias, she went completely still that rúben had to break her moment. “hey, what’s wrong?”

she badly wished the earth could swallow her right now. the girth still inside of her be damned.

she pressed the crescent eyelids he’d come to love, for they looked as pretty as the moon outside, in a manner rúben didn’t want to know why. because it looked like she didn’t want to open her eyes to meet his. because it looked like regret.

“baby—”

“don’t, rúben.”

she cut him off with the sharpest blade available under her arsenal, her intonation, and at that moment it felt like those film moments when he froze after she stabbed her, digesting the pain and the shock that blanketed the moment.

“what did i do wrong?”

“this, rúben,” and she clenched her jaw, as if it pained her. as if it didn’t pain him to look at the expression she was sporting on her face now—here comes the old, cold you, rúben regretfully noted. “this is what’s wrong. what are you thinking?”

and there was the pair of eyes he loved, for they always speak the truth words lie about. but this time, rúben wished she didn’t open them, for they always speak the truth words lie about, and this time eyes and mouth were seething with anger.

“am i just another rebound for you?”

now that was a serious accusation. “where the hell does that come from?”

“you don’t like me, rúben,” if she wasn’t spitting stupid thoughts, rúben would certainly take the pleasure to fawn over her fiery stance right now. nothing pleased him more than putting people down to follow the order, and she certainly exuded rebellion from her eyes alone. “you never do.”

his large hand jumped to pull her face upwards to face him, rather powerfully to show who’s the boss and she just crossed the line. the movement caused his dick to slide back deeper into her, unexpectedly that she had to hold herself from moaning at the feeling—this feeling as a whole, more likely—but the distance he eliminated between them allowed him to inhale her suppressed whimper.

peering down to her in an arrogance manner she wanted to wipe from the faces of the earth, rúben raised his left eyebrow, challenging her back. “if i don’t like you, why did i just fuck your brains out?”

“as i said—”

“rebounds, you say?” and he didn’t intend to let her speak, as he instead pulled her closer to him by the waist. the sensation he could pull out of her mouth was the only thing he allowed between them, broken gasps and all. “if you know me as well as you think you are, then tell me,”

her chest was burning at the sensation he was whispering so close to her, inhaling what she exhaled, inhaling what he exhaled. on fire at the sensation of him pulling out slowly from her at the same time the hand on her waist travelled inside, towards the aching clit deprived of the friction from his groin.

“tell me, baby,” god, rúben wanted to close off the gaping mouth, as shut as the fluttering eyelids. “have you ever heard of me doing that? have you ever seen me, with your own eyes, doing that?”

“rúben—”

his hand was so close yet so far, caressing the insides of her thighs, and she hated the fact she needed him to touch her. now, or else she’d combust. “answer me.”

“no—”

“there you go,” and there was the satisfaction he’d recognised from the arch of her back and neck, as he hurled himself back to her soft spot, allowing him to pepper kisses along the underside of her chin, down along her throat, nailing her in her place further. “god, if only you knew…”

only when rúben pulled away from the space in the middle of her decolletages did she open her eyes once more, and she was rendered rather speechless at how rúben was looking at her. she was almost scared to ask but knew she needed the answer. “knew what?”

“it’s maddening,” the hand in her face moved to a different angle, now his forefinger was tracing the edges of her lips. the very one he destroyed with the harsh, heated kisses they exchanged. his artwork. “how much you consume my very being.”

before her heart could leap out of its place, rúben kissed her lips once more with so much fervour and everything else remained in his body. different to their earlier kisses full of lust, this one was lingering but unspeakable feeling and passion and lust and love.

love?

whatever they were feeling certainly wasn’t love, was it? they hate each other, for fuck’s sake.

“eyes on me, querida,” rúben’s voice snapped her thoughts away and she obeyed him, forgetting how easy it was to spare this particular man the hatred. before she saw that ex-girlfriend of his on the doorsteps, before she resorted to her self-defence mechanism.

“hello, there,” and he felt her melting away, as he recognised the whimpers she let out this time while he was rocking their boat in rhythm back and forth was nothing sort of what she gave 15 minutes ago. “there’s the eyes i love the most.”

love?

but before her mind could drift somewhere else, rúben finished off what he started. he drove her to the end fast and without mercy this time, leaving him helpless under his control of pace. his hand was no longer feathering the skin, they’d made themselves useful by dipping into the blossoming bud between rúben and her. the crude touch against her soft, plump crown was the striking contrast she needed to release herself for the second time, all frustration and thoughts were now focused on the finishing line. so focused that she didn’t feel herself shaking, trembling as rúben assaulted all of her senses—his kiss, his touch, his smell, his drive.

rúben sensed her going weaker from his all-out attack, not wanting to hold back himself either, not when he finally had her within his whim. he took her hands to curl them behind his neck and pulled up her knees so he could lift her up before turning their position around. he was now sitting on the lid of the toilet nearby while she sunk down on him and good fucking lord did she wrap him, all of his 9-inches, so tightly and so deeply like she was made for him.

and she felt it, too, for she sling her arms on his shoulder, hanging for her dear life. rúben couldn’t help but pull her in his grasp, closer than before—no air, no space between them—and the feeling of conjoining with her altogether almost undid him before her he had to stop himself from moving. rúben rested his head on her chest, wanting to calm himself down first as he placed open-mouthed kisses and nips on the outline of her nipples, but the action seemed to turn her on as he felt her clenching around him.

“fuck, don’t stop,” he involuntarily said, and she took it as an invitation to take the wheel from him and ride them out. “fuck, baby. fuck yes, i’m coming.”

“oh, yes, yes, yes!” she’d screamed as rúben manoeuvred her hips back and forth. combined that with the sinful components of his mouth against her breast, licking and sucking the sensitive bud like there was no tomorrow, it didn’t take long for her to reach her, by far, most satisfying high. “oh joder, rúben!”

she’d relish the feeling of soaring high in the sky all over again as she came down to earth. rúben was already holding her by the waist and a small part of her back so she didn’t crumble down trembling messily, small kisses were already scattered all over the hollow part on her shoulder blades, like he didn’t care if she just pulled out his hair so hard she was now afraid he’d catch up to her father’s balding.

“i love you,” but this time she didn’t go all ice on him. “i’m sorry i made you think the otherwise.”

and rúben, being the perfect gentleman, proved how sorry he was by sending her a bouquet of flower the next day. her, a florist, a bunch of imported fresh white tulips before she could wake up and go to the flower market early in the morning. how he did that when it wasn’t tulip season, she didn’t know, and the effort didn’t pass as overlooked by her eyes.

yes, the effort of scouting the rare tulips, but most of all the effort he’d go just to saywhat the flowers implied; i’m sorry. just like his words.

of course he was forgiven.

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heavyhitterheaux · 10 months

Note

Jack injuring himself during sex with FL, like pulls a muscle or something

Jack had finally hit his peak following mere moments after you and as he reached down to plant kisses all over your body out of nowhere you heard him mutter "Oh, shit." before falling off the bed.

"What the? BABY ARE YOU OKAY?" You exclaimed while peeking over to the side of the bed to see him looking pitiful and holding his calf muscle.

"Fuck! Got damnit!"

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong so I can help you or what? Because saying cuss words every three seconds is not about to fix the problem."

"My leg!"

"This isn't SpongeBob! Use your words!"

"I think I pulled a muscle. Fuck this hurts." Jack answered you while trying to get up and immediately falling back down and you were doing your best and trying not to laugh.

"Oh, so you think this shit is funny? I make you cum and this is the thanks I get?"

"I'm sorry, baby. Come here, let me help you."

"How? You can't hold any of my weight. You're too small and the next thing we know we'll both be on the floor."

"Look either you accept my help or I'm calling Urby and you know for a fact that he won't let us live this down. You more so than me."

"Fine." Jack finally muttered knowing that this was the only plan and he prayed that it would work.

You reached your hand down to him and he quickly grabbed it and pulled himself up the best he could and flopped down onto the bed landing on top of you.

"Please don't get the wrong idea because the last thing on my mind is going another round. I'm over here trying not to die."

"Just roll over you big baby. I'll go get you ice and some ibuprofen."

"And a few kisses too?" Jack curiously asked as he rolled over and you immediately rolled your eyes.

"Yes, you can get as many as you want."

"Don't tell me that. I want 100 then."

"I… baby doing that got you into the predicament that we're in now."

"No. It was that pussy that did it, but I can still eat you out. Nothing's wrong with my mouth."

"Why are you so unserious?" You asked while reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing the ibuprofen.

"So, is that a yes?"

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow concepts #first lady of pg concepts

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thatfreshi · 8 months

Note

Ok so... Idea for Astorian? What if the reader was some form of Flamenco dancer? Or something of the sorts, who acts like a bard, but instead of using an instrument they dance to perform magic. Not forced at all ofcorse!! I love the way you write him, it feels like you've nailed his character!

Uhm... if you guys want a part two... yeah. Let me know LMAO

TW - general horniness, reader is threatened at dagger-point

Recommended Song: Shirt - SZA

"Yeah, I just dance and then... magic."

The way Astarion first narrowed his eyes at you when you expressed that you couldn't really do anything else, he thought it was laughable.

"So you don't really fight, you just have fun while everyone else is actually doing things?"

"No, I have to actually be good at it! That's like saying you just open doors."

"Well that would be extremely rude because these hands do much more than open doors my dear."

You rolled your eyes, and he smirked. Now, this was before the two of you even slept together, let alone become an item. Over time Astarion has come to understand just how important of an asset you are to the group, but more specifically how he can't keep his eyes off of you on the battlefield. Whenever you can, the two of you find some time alone in the city to find you the most gorgeous flowy outfits, partially because they're easier to move in, but he also loves spoiling you, especially if he benefits from the view. He likes stitching little messages into the loose pieces of fabric, anything in between love notes and threats to people who have even thought about hurting you. The most recent one reads 'If the person wearing this is dead, you're next.'

Somehow, you and your rag-tag group have ended up being tasked with a group of bandits outside of Baldur's Gate. Does it have anything to do with the tadpoles or anything else important? No, of course not, but you have a hard time not helping people in need.

When you come across the group of bandits, it's apparent that they're not going to be a problem. While you're staking out their camp, Astarion comes behind you, whispering in your ear.

"If we make quick work of this, I'm sure we could find somewhere afterwards, for the two of us."

It sends a shiver up your spine, but you laugh it off, turning to look at him.

"You think you're funny, huh? Come on, we have work to do."

"Oh trust me, I know."

Maybe you should find a new way to cast magic, because it cannot be good for him to be horny mid-fight. Then again, it never seems to be a problem, so maybe it doesn't matter? Astarion certainly is an odd specimen, but you love him anyways.

"I am begging the two of you to stop flirting on the battlefield, please."

Gale pleads, wishing the two of you could keep it in your pants for once.

"Listen, once you find someone who completes your heart like Tav completes mine, you will understand. Until then, I'd stop complaining."

You nudge him and then whisper.

"Aster, you are talking to the guy who had sex with Mystra, and then became a literal bomb to try and win her approval."

"Damnit, I always forget about that! Fine, whatever. If Mystra were here, you would be just as lustful as I am, no matter the circumstances."

Gale grumbles to himself and walks off to the others, as Karlach prepares to make the first strike. She makes the signal, and you all take your positions. Astarion always insists on staying close to you, taking you with him on the flank if he has to. No one tries to argue, because he doesn't trust anyone else to keep you safe.

"Damnit, ambush!"

One of the bandits calls out, a tiefling. Gale casts grease, making their camp light up in flames from the campfire. Karlach strikes one of the bandits from behind, knocking them into the fire, effectively killing them. You don't realize though that one of the bandits had taken a trip to the forest to relieve himself, and he comes up behind you. Suddenly, you're swallowing fear with a dagger to your throat.

"Cease fire! Or the pretty one gets it."

As soon as the others look over in concern, the man's throat has been pierced, some of the blood splattering onto your face. Astarion drinks until your attacker hits the ground, the dagger falling out of a bloodless hand. You catch sight of Shadowheart, who is in close-quarters combat with a drow, and you turn to your lover.

"Come here!"

He doesn't ask questions, and he grabs your hands, spinning you out towards the fight as you send a fire bolt the drow's way. She falls quickly. Soon enough, Lae'zel finishes off the last of them, and Shadowheart casts water across the flames, making sure nothing else is burnt down. You try to catch your breath with the rest of the group, and you realize Wyll is injured, a gash across his shoulder. Normally Halsin or Shadowheart would deal with such a wound, but it's been a long day, and you're the only one with any healing magic left in you. With a few moves of your hips, you send out a healing ward, patching him up rather quickly.

"Thank you Tav."

Astarion comes to your side immediately after, almost as if he's jealous, wrapping an arm around your waist. As the others start going through the bandits' treasure, your lover wipes the blood off of your face.

"Surprised you didn't lick it off."

"I'm sure his blood was rancid, I much prefer yours."

If someone told you a year ago that someone saying they want to drink your blood was a turn-on, you would've laughed them all the way to Waterdeep. Now, you struggle to stand properly, holding your thighs together. He keeps his hand on your face, grip a little tenser than before.

"You need to be more careful when we're out there. I know these people were practically dead already, but some people won't try to trade you off like a token."

Normally you'd roll your eyes, tell him you obviously know that, but you just nod, and his thumb creeps over to your bottom lip.

"Astarion, we can't get this thing open!"

You're interrupted by a shout from Karlach, and Astarion kisses your cheek.

"I'll finish this later I suppose. Come my love, time to loot these insolent fools."

It's as if he set up the scenario perfectly, like he wanted the two of you to be interrupted. Hopefully he keeps his word.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #fluff

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istoleyoursk1n · 3 months

Note

Could I request a durge who, while they have more control of their urges than most other Bhaalspawn, will sometimes blurt the urges out in conversation to try and get someone to help them stop doing it just in case they try? It's half sweet and half chaotic, because on one hand, aw durge trusts them! But also, durge and the character were just having a nice evening stroll in a park when they turned to the character and bluntly said "Can you tie me down before I kill that couple over there?"

With Roland, Dammon and Wyll please!

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would Rolan, Dammon, and Wyll react to a Durge who blurts out their urges?

Context: Durge starts blurting unhinged things out like “Can you tie me down before I kill that could over there?!” (I find this so funny)

: ̗̀➛ ROLAN

“Gods damnit again?! What is it, the fourth time this week?! Can you behave enough to whisper when you utter those violent little thoughts of yours? It's like you want every damn person here to hear you! You’re embarrassing us both y’know!”

You what?! <— His live reaction caught in 4k

He’s well aware of your urges by now but they never fail to startle him. You always seem to blurt them out during the worst times too. He’s spilled his drink once because of you!

He goes from having to quickly shush your mouth by placing his own hand over it, to not so subtly scooting you away from everyone, and then having to use every damn magic trick in the book just to keep you from lunging at people.

He seems more annoyed than scared to be honest, having to scold you once again about ‘not ruining happy couples’ and to ‘stop trying to bite that dwarves leg’.

The whole situation ends up looking like both of you play fighting or Rolan trying to tend to a rabid dog. Either way, it's absolutely hilarious to everywhere who may bear witness to it all.

Eventually, when he's managed to get you to calm down, he’d be able to help talk things out with you, finding out proper ways on how this ‘urge’ of yours could be tamed without the need of you hurting yourself or others.

To his dismay, he cares for you deeply and despite it all, he’d be willing enough to help you through each and every one of your urges no matter how much of a hassle it all is to overcome.

And hey! If someone truly does piss him off, he has you to rely on to immediately go chasing after the poor soul with bared teeth.

: ̗̀➛ DAMMON

“Hells, just hold onto me okay? We’ll get you home and away from this crowd if you think the urges are getting far too overwhelming. Don't you worry, we’ll be back in no time, just squeeze my hand and it’ll all be alright.”

He kind of just stood there awkwardly at first when he first heard you blurt out your urges. He’s so surprised by them that he needs to blink five times before actually processing what you just said.

It would be during the most unsuspecting times too like whenever the both of you were relaxing together side by side whilst eating a nice warm meal then suddenly you’d say something along the lines of ‘dwarf tastes better’.

He’s very much concerned about you and your mental state but he cares for you enough to listen and lend you a hand whenever you do decide to blurt out your urges.

At least then it gives him a clear sign as to when he should be tying you down or locking you in a room for the day.

He hates having to tie you up when your urges get worse, seeing you lash about and growl at him just pains him because he can't imagine the amount of stress you actually going through just to hold yourself back.

He’s probably been scratched by you a few times while he was trying to calm you down but he never once took it against you. Instead, those became his favorite scars all cause they came from you.

He would stay with you no matter how dangerous you say you are. He’d make sure that you’d have food and he’d feed you every time you’re mind was too scattered to eat yourself during the moments when you had to be tied up; for even the fear of dying by your hands does not scare him.

Though it does become an actual shitshow during the times he actually has to wrestle you down. It's funny to watch but Gods does it exhaust him.

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

“By the hells, Is it that time again? Alright, calm down, just breathe with me okay? You're going to be just fine. Now quickly, let's get you somewhere safe before the worst comes to show, I doubt you’d want that poor couple overhearing what you said.”

He goes wide-eyed concerned for a moment as soon as your violent urges suddenly come out of your mouth. He truly could never not be shocked for when and where you say such things.

He’s somehow extremely prepared for it though that it's mildly concerning.

The first step is to take you away from any person aside from him in sight, if you are close to home, even better! But ideally, he either takes you to a secluded forest or an alleyway.

Next, he very gently restrains you whilst reassuring you that everything is going to be just fine. Better to restrain you while you're still in control of your own thoughts rather than when you go full-on feral mode.

He even has a timer for it. If for an hour or so you don't act up and remain calm then he lets you go but if you start lashing out then he knows it’s time for him to probably pull an all-nighter just to make sure you and the others don't get hurt. Note that either way, he stays with you.

He’ll be your number-one supporter in helping you control and contain your violent urges, always giving you hope in times when all you can see is blood red.

He’ll always have a plate of food ready for you when the urges finally settle and you’re back in the right state of mind. Perhaps even a warm bath if you're both in the comforts of your home.

Truth be told, the real reason he stays by your side is not just cause he cares but because one moment he looked away for about ten seconds, and you suddenly disappeared. The poor man nearly had a panic attack.

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#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanon #bg3 headcanons #bg3 x reader #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon #bg3 wyll #rolan #dammon #wyll

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