#if nothing else it's nice to just. say this somewhere
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𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫
pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!padawan!reader
summary: Your master is horny and frustrated, he looks for release at a nasty gloryhole in coruscant… only to find out that that perfect pussy he’s fucking belongs to his padawan.
c/w: gloryhole, p in v, masturbation, power imbalance (very nasty idgf im sorry im horny)
discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 2-
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
ﾟ。Love you
𝘄/𝗰: 1,838
He’s frustrated, Anakin won’t hide it anymore, he even yelled at you this morning, but as soon as he saw your pretty eyes pout at him he regretted it, it’s not even your fault, you’re learning, he’s your master, he’s supposed to teach you, it’s just… you jumping around and swinging your lightsaber does something to him… and he knows it shouldn’t.
It doesn’t matter anymore, how hard and fast he fucks his fleshlight, how hard he grinds against his mattress trying to chase an unsatisfactory high that leaves him as soon as it arrives, the painful dry orgasms he craves and hates, how painfully hard he grips his cock, nothing is enough, not anymore, he craves something else.
someone else
Someone’s pussy he knows he shouldn’t even think about, but he wonders… he wonders if someday he’ll be able to fuck it… how tight and wet you must feel around his cock… could you even take it? Could his sunshine of padawan handle him? He’ll be gentle, he’ll be rough, he’ll be anything you want him to be
Anakin sits on his bed late at night, however this is coruscant, theres always some sort of party going on somewhere, bars, loud noises and music, flashing lights, even nasty gloryholes, this planet is wild… the Jedi temple is luxurious and quiet on the surface…. But in the lower levels of coruscant there are… some interesting things happening, but he’s a Jedi, he knows it’s not right, he’s not sure what part isn’t right, but there’s something that doesn’t click.. maybe it’s the fact that paying for some services are just not what he wants, he wants your stupid creamy fucking pussy wrapped around his cock… what would you call him? Master? Anakin? And there’s the other fact that it’s avoid being recognized with his Jedi robes and his lightsaber… he must go undercover if he wants to get what he wants.
As anakin prepares himself for an adventure he takes a peek of the empty hallways at the Jedi temple, everyone asleep, everyone doesn’t have the same problem as him… it’s quiet and peaceful… he remembers that place, Obi wan and him tracked a criminal a few alleys away, the discrete yet inviting place hiding beneath the shadows… *is that?* *Don’t even say it Anakin….* Obi wan said with an unamused expression… of course it fucking is.
And now his feet has finally led him here….
The first thing her sees is lady.. well only her hands.. her face is covered by a piece of wood, completely anonymous… great, like this he’ll just have to imagine it’s you… he hope it does the trick, he hands her some credits without saying much… then he takes a deep breathe *Focus Anakin… focus* he tells himself… but the loud slapping noises and moans keep distracting him, he feels some sort of sense of guilt, he knows he’s better than this, but again he’s not… and the last thing he thinks before opening that stained curtain is… Obi wan should never know this… Y/N should never know this….
And finally he sees legs spread and in display… the wood creaks beneath his feet, the loud moans Turing of his brain, men acting like animals as they fuck a pussy, they’re in heat, just like him… he even sees some men on their knees eating out some women… interesting… who said chivalry doesn’t exist anymore?
He stops in front a pair of legs… all pretty and spread wide, inviting, a puffy clit that begs to be touched and rubbed nicely, fuck… those pretty legs look just like yours… just like yours… when you swirl around and he takes a small glance of that set of thighs under your skirt…
But he’s nervous… the consent has been already given right? He doesn’t have to talk to her or even know her name… it doesn’t fucking matter because she’s not you… he holds onto her thighs squeezing softly as the girl adjusts slightly feeling that she’s about to have some company, and just as his touch arrived is gone again as they leave goosebumps, he unbuttons his pants slower that he should’ve, he grasps his cock over his boxers and releases it giving himself a few strokes to get himself rock hard, fuck he’s about to get it… he needs it so so so so so fucking bad, he needs her, he…
He rubs his cock against her clit, slapping his tip against it gently as he hears a small gasp behind… *cute* he thinks to himself… fuck it he deserves this.
He pushes himself all the way in
Grabbing onto her ankles and starting with a relentless peace, the girl cries out, he should’ve given her some time to adjusts but he just couldn’t control himself… he pushes his hips forward trying to get his dick as deep as possible as he throws his head back… “fucking- he’ll…” he hopes he’s not fucking a virgin but this girl feels like one, she feels the way you would’ve feel wrapped around him, you’re so… you’re completely devoted to him, your life is Jedi training with your master anakin, missions with Anakin, free time with Anakin… you’re his, you’re his you’re his and only his… then why is he fucking this random girl? Why won’t you love him the way he loves you so he could be fucking you instead… this infuriates him as he pistons her harder… faster, his fingers digging into her skin leaving marks, he doesn’t know if it’s allowed or not.
He huffs and growls trying to control his anger… sweet moans filling his ears and emptying his thoughts… fuck she sounds just like you
He feels a deep connection to this girl he’s fucking, the force, something? Or it’s just her tight pussy? Gummy walls massaging him so fucking nice, his balls pounding agains her cute asshole, he chuckles as he watches her hips struggle against the hardwood, struggling to stay still, he licks his fingers and starts massaging her puffy clit, rubbing nice and slow… nice and slow, contrasting with his brutal pace
Y/n, Y/n, Y/n… One day he’s going to take you…. One fucking day…
A bead of sweat falls from his forehead, he ignores the noisy looks from people as they see the young hot man fucking the young hot woman like an animal, his hips move expertly against yours, he knows what he’s doing and it shows, and there’s not much to do than to trust roughly to fuck his frustration out, he loves this, the feeling but he wants more, a deeper connection, to look into your eyes as he fucks you, your nails digging in his back as he fucks you so hard it hurts…
He pushes herself deeper as the girl cries out because his tip is kissing her cervix a painful kiss.
This girl is wet… and she’s getting wetter every seconds, he feels the little splashes her pussy is making against his thighs… cute.. she’s squirting, anakin rubs her clit faster, you would arch your back right now wouldn’t you? If it were you obviously… he sees the girls hips raise a little and he knows she’s arching, her pretty feet shake over his shoulders as he keeps pounding her
His hips falteres as he nears his release, cock twitching and pulsating nice inside her velvety pussy
“Keep going!”
Shit, her voice even sounds like yours and he knows he’s imagining it because he’s whipped but this only enhances his experience… he’s breathing heavily, he’s panting as he tries to keeps some noises from escaping but they do.. and finally he cums… she squirts and it’s all fireworks and aftershocks, spasms and pure pleasure, his legs wobble, he put on quite a show….
He pants and pants until his breathing finally even, he feels at peace, what every orgasm should be like, not like those painful and dry ones he gives himself, he sees his cum dripping from the girls pussy, fuck, he didn’t even pull out… his head is pounding and he holds the girls thighs tighter… he feels… he feels a connection…. A big one… a deep one… a nice one… he buttons up his pants and gets on his knees, like an spell has been casted on him, he spread her legs even wider and dives in, he moans at the taste as he gives her a long lick, his lips instantly wrapping around her clit… he licks his cum out of her, he’s possessed, eyes rolling back into his head as he feels the girls fingers tangling on his hair…. Cute little whines can be heard, he’s obviously overstimulating her but… he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care.
He forced his eyes to open and he looks up and sees her fingers now resting over her stomach
And he sees the delicate bracelet around her wrist….
One that he happens to share with you
His eyes widen as he stands up immediately
“Y/n” he says loud enough for you to hear as his words get drowned into the loud sex noises…. The humid air and the smell of sex are prominent.
“Im sorry master” you say apologetic with that little voice of yours, one that indicates that you know you did something wrong but you’re not sorry for it
Now everything makes sense, he told you about this place a few months ago when Obi wan and him found it… the urge the intense craving and the way his legs lead him here, the connection that he felt to this person… why he was drawer to this pretty set of thighs.
It was all you, you lead him here, taking advantage of your connection through the force…
And he fucking loves it
He dives back in savoring your pussy, biting your button delicate and tongue fucking your hole as he tastes himself, his tongue exploring your folds… your fingers tangle around his locks as you cry out again, your legs close around his head and your back arches… perfect perfect, so fucking perfect.
He feels your back arch again and your moans get louder
You’re so close… so so close.
And he’s going to drag you to the edge
And he’s going to make you cum again
Your master Anakin Skywalker is devouring you like a mad man
And it’s okay
“Master master!” You cry out
An hour later you come out of the place as Anakin waits for you in a dark alley, he sees your with your coat and your wobbly legs… the walk back home is quiet, too quiet… no words exchanged, the aura is heavy yet not uncomfortable.. he leads you inside the Jedi temple and you walk to his quarters… a punishment, not in a sexual way, a lecture… something awaits… he pushes you inside and the door locks….
Your heels echoe in the darkness as his arms wrap around your torso… and you breathe in relief.
masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.
dividers - @i92-93
TAGS: @espinathena-17 @skywqlkergf
#hayden christensen#anakin smut#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin fanfiction#anakin imagine#anakin x reader#anakin x you#hayden christensen characters#star wars anakin#hayden christensen fluff#hayden christensen smut#hayden christensen imagine#hayden christensen x reader#star
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♕ No Matter What - Part 7 | Lena Luthor ♕
Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader
Warnings: mentions of some shooting, throwing up, blood and death
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
________________________________________________
I get up with shaking hands, watching Lena as she begins pacing.
“Who is he?” she snaps. “Your boyfriend?!”
I flinch and take a step back. Not only am I completely taken aback by her sudden lack of trust, I’m also fragile because of the reminder of what day it is tomorrow.
“Lena— What? No! He’s not my boyfriend,” I defend quietly, my voice wavering. I swallow to get rid of the growing lump in my throat, but it just makes it worse.
Lena whips around and stares me down with a harsh glare. “No? Then who is he and why did you try to hide it when his name popped up on your phone?”
I open my mouth to reply, but the words get stuck in my throat. What has gotten into her? She has no right to attack me like this. Not when I haven’t given her a single reason not to trust me.
Scoffing when I don’t answered, she aggressively runs a hand through her hair. “That’s what I thought. My God, I should have never listened to Sam. You’re just like everyone else. A lying, cheating—“
“He’s my brother!” I blurt out weakly, every word she just said breaking my heart. My knees are weak and it’s taking everything in me not to break down crying right now.
Lena pauses and raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Nice try. You told me you don’t have any siblings. Honestly, I don’t know how I let this whole thing between us get this far.”
I feel my bottom lip tremble and avert my eyes to the ground. Why is she being so cruel? I clench my fists and work my jaw as Lena goes on berating me.
“And to make up a brother. . . You really are something else. You know, if it weren’t for your contract I’d fire you on the spot.”
A tear rolls down my cheek and I lift a trembling hand to wipe it away. I don’t say anything and just stare at the floor, waiting for Lena to continue.
She doesn’t go on however and when I dare to glance at her I find her watching me incredulously.
“Why are you cry—?”
“I am not making him up,” I say sternly which seems to surprise her. She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off again. “And I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t have any siblings because he’s dead.”
Lena’s eyes widen.
“It’s the anniversary of his death tomorrow and I was planning on leaving some flowers on his grave, hence the reminder. And I didn’t want you to see because I’m not ready to talk about what happened yet.” I grab my bag from next to the couch and sling it over my shoulder, too hurt to even acknowledge the regret on Lena’s face. “Now, I know you can’t fire me, but I can quit, so don’t worry. You’ll have my letter of resignation on your desk by tomorrow morning.“
“Y/N, that’s not what I— I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. . . Please don’t—“
I hold up a hand and shake my head with a stray tear rolling down my cheek. “No, don’t worry about it, Ms. Luthor. I should probably get going now if I am to accompany you to the office later.”
Lena looks close to tears as well now, but I don’t give her a chance to say anything else as I brush past her, leaving without turning back.
How everything could go this wrong this quickly is a mystery to me.
It makes my heart ache and part of me is screaming at me to turn back and forgive Lena for jumping to conclusions. The other part however, the one that is irreversibly hurt by what just happened, is telling me to leave, which is what I ultimately do.
Maybe Lena was right. Things shouldn’t have gone as far as they did between us. I am, after all, just her bodyguard.
A year ago– Somewhere overseas. . .
“Christ I’m sweating like a pig,” Noah grumbles, pulling at the collar of his uniform.
We’re standing outside in the blazing sun, guarding the locals as they unload the truck of supplies we brought them. It’s a day like any other and for weeks now nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
“Yeah? Well, stop fretting, you’re only making it worse,” I scold lightheartedly as I shift the gun in my arms. It is hot, yes, but Noah is being a baby about it.
Harper snickers beside me and Noah sends her a dirty look. “You two are unbelievable,” he says with an eye roll, however when he turns his attention back to the locals I see a faint smile on his lips.
Harper beams and shoves me playfully. I smile and return the gesture.
That’s when one of the locals approaches me. “We’ve finished unloading the truck. Thank you again for all your help.” He stretched out his hand and I shake it with a polite nod.
“You’re welcome. Is there anything else we can—?”
The sound of screeching breaks makes me whip my head around and my eyes widen at the sight of an old truck that has come to a stop in a cloud of dust.
Several men, armed with guns jump off the back of it and before I can call out any orders, they open fire on me and my squad.
“Get down!” I shout, pulling the local behind a stack of rice bags. “Miller, radio for help!”
Harper and Noah join me while the rest of the squad finds shelter behind our truck.
Bullets whiz past us everywhere and the panicked screams of the locals make my stomach flip.
Stay calm! I remind myself, gripping my gun until my knuckles are white. Panic will get you killed.
“Miller?” I shout again as I peak over the bags, returning some of the fire before ducking back down. “Miller, where are you? Jones? Martinez!”
There’s no answer and knowing what that means, I clench my jaw and force away the burning feeling behind my eyes.
“What do we do?” Harper shouts next to me as she reloads her gun. “We’re trapped.”
Miller was the only one in the squad with a radio because for weeks now everything’s been calm and some superiors decided the extra radios should go to the squad’s that actually fight the rebels, not the ones doing supply runs.
“There’s a radio in the truck!” I remember, but the chances of getting to it without being hit are slim to none.
I have to do something though, so I grab Noah by the collar and pull him closer so he can hear me over the gunfire. “You two, cover me!” I shout, ignoring the way his and Harper’s eyes widen in terror.
“No! You can’t—!” he begins to protests but I tighten my grip on his uniform which shuts him up.
“I can and I will! I’m your superior officer and I’m not losing anyone else today, you hear me?!”
Noah has tears in his eyes, but he nods nonetheless. I turn to Harper to find her with the same, horror filled eyes.
“Do you hear me?” I ask again, swallowing the fear that’s bubbling up in the back of my throat.
“Yes, Sergeant!” They reply in unison and I take a deep breath before counting down.
“Alright, on three. One, two, three!” I jump up, gun at the ready, and move to leap over the bags of rice.
As soon as I get to my feet though, I’m knocked back by something hitting my shoulder. I cry out in pain and fall back down, clutching at where I’ve been hit.
One of the rebels must have waited for one of us to show themselves…
“Y/N!” Harper screeches, pressing her hand down on my chest a little below my shoulder. “Fuck!”
The local who’s frozen in place, pales at the sight of my blood and throws up right in his lap and if it weren’t for our current circumstances I would have gagged at the sight.
This can’t be how it ends!
I grit my teeth and shove Harper’s hand away. “I’m fine. We have to try again. We need to get to that radio!”
I try to get a hold of my gun again but as soon as I move, a jolt of pain shoots through me and I fall back with a pained whimper.
It’s enough for Harper to press her hand against my shoulder again, pinning me down with a warning look. “You can’t do this. You’re losing to much blood. We’ll have to think of something else.”
I shake my head and fidget with the clasp of my helmet. It feels like the strap is strangling me, but I know better than to take it off.
“There’s no time, Harper! Just let me—!”
“I’ll do it.”
I turn my head to find Noah watching us with a blank stare. I’ve never seen him like this and I know whatever he’s thinking can’t be good.
“I’ll do it,” he says again and that’s when I realize what he means.
“You will do no such thing!” I say sternly as he goes to return some of the fire before ducking back down.
“But we need backup!” he argues and I watch as a bead of sweat drips from the tip of his nose.
It really is hot today, isn’t it?
“You’re not going out there, Private. That is an order!” I wince when Harper applies more pressure to my shoulder.
“I can’t just let you die!” Noah screams and he reloads his gun with newfound determination. “I’m going to get that radio and call for backup!”
I grab his arm and yank him back down just as he’s about to get up. “No, you are not! You’re staying right here. We’ll think of something else.”
Noah’s eyes meet mine and for a moment the gunfire around us is muted. He smiles apologetically and takes the hand I have on his arms into his own.
I’m sorry, he mouths and before I can stop him again he’s escaped my grasp.
“Noah!”
Present– National City. . .
After showering and getting ready for the day, I make my way back to Lena’s apartment building where I wait for her by the front desk after shoving my bike into the janitors closet.
Ann tries to strike up a conversation as soon as her eyes land on me, but when my replies come out somewhat clipped, she lets it go.
I honestly don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Earlier I was hurt and angry, but now I’m not really feeling anything.
I will do my job as professionally as I can and have my resignation letter on Lena’s desk by tomorrow morning, just like she wanted.
I am still worried about Lex coming after her, but she’s made it clear what she thinks of me and I can’t do my job if she doesn’t trust me.
When the elevator doors open and Lena steps out, her eyes dart around until they land on me. She relaxes visibly and approaches quickly with regret and worry written all over her face.
“Y/N, I’m sorry about earlier. I should have never said what I said and I don’t want you to—“
I shake my head and square my shoulders, trying my best to sound professional when I say, “Don’t apologize, Ms. Luthor. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m just here to do my job.”
Lena deflates and she frowns sorrowfully. “Y/N, please. . . I didn’t mean—“
I check my watch and clear my throat, cutting her off once again. “We should get going if you don’t want to be late for your interview with Ms. Danvers.”
Lena’s bottom lip trembles and I have to dig my nails into the palm of my hand to stop myself from rushing forward to comfort her.
Her words cut unimaginably deep earlier and I can’t forgive her for it just yet. Or ever. I haven’t made my mind up about it yet because all I can think about is Noah and Harper who tried calling me again just before I got here.
“Alright then,” Lena gives in with a dejected sigh.
We go outside where Alfred is already waiting in the car. I open the rear–passenger door and wait until Lena gets in. Then I close it, ignoring the hurt in her eyes when I opt to sit in front with Alfred, rather than in the back with her like I normally do.
The interview with Kara had gone well, as far as I could tell when Lena hugged the blonde goodbye with a genuine smile. That smile, however, faded when her eyes met mine briefly and she quickly disappeared into her office again, leaving me outside with Jess who was busy at her computer.
And that’s where I’m still at right now, reading a news article on my phone while Lena’s in her office with Sam who decided to show up ten minutes ago.
Upon seeing me, she instantly knew something was wrong, but I just waved her off when I could feel Lena watching us from the doorway to her office.
She didn’t say anything but sent me a look that made it clear we were going to talk about what was going on as soon as we were alone.
“You did what?!”
Sam’s shriek makes me flinch and I can’t help but move a little closer to the closed office door. Jess isn’t at her desk because she went out to get coffee, so I don’t have to worry about getting caught eavesdropping.
“I know, I messed up pretty badly.” Lenas muffled voice sounds like she’s genuinely sorry and I know for a fact that they’re talking about what happened this morning.
“You think?” Sam retorts sarcastically. “God, Lena. . . What is wrong with you?“
“I don’t know, Sam!” Lena sounds desperate and it makes my heart ache involuntarily. “I just— I’ve been burned so many times before and Jack—“
“Y/N is not Jack though,” Sam cuts in and it’s quiet for a moment.
Then Lena mumbles what sounds like, “I know. . .” followed by a “What am I supposed to do now?”
I sigh and move away from the door again. What they’re talking about is none of my business even though they’re taking about me.
It also doesn’t help that I wouldn’t be able to answer that question myself. What could Lena possibly do to undo what she did this morning?
I honestly don’t know and before I can lend that question any more thought, my phone starts ringing.
I glance at the screen to see that it’s Harper again.
I roll my eyes with half a mind to decline the call, but then I think better of it and reluctantly answer with a strained, “What do you want, Harper?”
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I’m not all too happy with how this part turned out, but I’m not in the mood to rewrite it. Proofreading (like always) will be done over the course of the next couple of days.
Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that I love your comments and that I read every single one of them even though I don’t reply to all of them <3
Tag list: @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy
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Did it occur to you LFJ might just be tired, or not part of the specific joke or conversation that was happening? It seems kinda weird to try to analyze it and make wild speculation about people’s motives or friendships based on a couple short videos.
@dubiousculturalartifact Is that you, LFJr.? 😅
If it's you, then you can explain how you felt that day and tell everyone how joining in the fun would have been too devastating for you. Otherwise, if you're not and you're one of his rando stans then it's really funny how you're upset over something as simple as HIS demeanor in three seperate BTS videos because the evidence is right there. No one can deny he wasn't happy but earlier in the season he was happy and joking around with Kenny. So let's get this straight... you're upset because he sat there like a statue and he wouldn't interact with Kenny, Oliver and Ryan during filming of the final episodes. Did I get it right? 🤣😂
[My original post.]
It seems like you're hurting for him or something since you're acting like someone stating the obvious about his actions in three different BTS videos was too much for you to handle. GTFOH with that BS please because he's the one who sat there like he couldn't be bothered to interact with the main characters when he's the one playing a PLOT DEVICE CHARACTER.
Have you considered he was acting unusually sad since he couldn't charge any of his stans (it wouldn't be a surprise if you're one of the ones who freely gave him your money) $145 to appear on "Cameo" so he can LIE and make up another ridiculous headcanon about how T*mmy was all deep in thought and preparing for the scene where he literally had one line that was negative and uncaring towards Buck? It costs nothing for anyone to smile and participate with people they claim to enjoy working with especially when he's out here begging his stans to help him become a main character. It's not a good look for him when those who were around him were having a good time and he just sat there staring into oblivion.
Furthermore, there wasn't any wild speculation included in my post so you should go back and reread it for reading comprehension purposes since it seems like that's a skill set you're lacking. So, you should brush up on it and learn how to comprehend a post before you come into my inbox or anyone else's stating he may have had a bad day. You weren't there and neither was I, therefore no one but him and those who were present that day know what happened so get off your LFJr. defense squad spiral and reread what I posted.
I stated it was interesting how he wasn't joking around like he had been earlier in the season and how he looked like he would rather be somewhere else. NOT ONCE DID I SAY ANYTHING NEGATIVE! That was you projecting onto him because the evidence proved he wasn't acting the same way when he thought his role could be extended into something more than what it was originally intended.
It's so funny how all of you LFJr. defenders get yourselves tied all up in knots when a simple aspect of the way someone acted is pointed out. I'll be so glad when he's gone off the show and hopefully, you and all his other stans can move on.
FYI, the quote below is what I included in my original post word for word so before you go into someone else's inbox trying to defend him, maybe you should try reading what the OP included again because the evidence speaks for itself and you're the one who looks and sounds ridiculous.
"It's unclear why he's changed from joking to not joking but Kenny likes to have fun, he's the comedian of the group so it's just interesting to see LFJ be anti-social all of a sudden."
Oh and for clarification purposes, the word "unclear" is defined as "uncertain about something" which is NOT NEGATIVE.
Have a nice day LFJr.! Oops I mean LFJr. stan.
#buddie#ryan guzman#kenny choi#oliver stark#lou ferrigno jr#911 abc#Canonically Observing 9-1-1 Speaks#911 season 7#911 season 7 speculation#Anti bucktommy#Anti lou ferigno Jr.#anti tommy kinard#Anti bummy#evan buckley#911 spoilers
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It's weird being a demon. You weren't always a demon. You used to be a human. Than a human who wanted to be a demon, which you learned very quickly was not treated the same as a human by anyone. Than a human who was kind of a demon, or mabye vice versa. Now you don't feel human at all, you're not sure if it's better this way.
You lost a lot when becoming this way. Being a sorcerer who worked with demons made you seem cool, like someone powerful and mysterious who was still on the side of humanity, when you actually became a demon you lost all of that, and anyone who warned people about you before was proven right. Your parents don't even consider you alive anymore, you don't think they talk about you at all, and if they do it's in the past tense. A lot of people, even people who want to be accepting seem to think of you as someone who exists within the past tense now.
Your body feels so much weirder now. If you even can be described as having a body. You're a spirit, you don't have blood or organs or any of that anymore, and you can feel it, like, you can tell that there's not the same level of things going on in there. It's liberating in a weird way, even though you can still touch things and are still effected by gravity and everything, you feel very free and weightless, like there was always this vessel weighing you down that you don't have anymore.
People focus on how you look different, you have black eyes now, and sharp teeth, you're wearing a suit that you can't really take off. You look way more humanoid than 99% of the people you meet. But that's not what you care about, it's not the biggest change to you, you don't feel hunger or a need for sleep anymore, things like eating or having sex honestly seem gross to you now, and you can't even do them. You don't even feel pain. Even though moving is so diffrent in this body, it feels right, it feels like the body you always wanted. Just existing is not the same now. Your body is ethereal and noticeably so even when you're alone, even when you're just somewhere, you do t have to try to be human. You're still getting used to it, the feeling of being a living spell, of not having organs, of being an entirely different material, but you don't regret it.
You can be hurt now in ways only demons can be hurt. You can be summoned, you can be bound. People want to summon and bind you, and to banish you, and burn you with silver. Your human freinds don't understand why you're so skittish if you say you like the change. And nobody understands how you can feel so hurt when a demon on the other side of the world is hurt. They don't understands how it feels to be an insult to so many people, for so many people to be afraid to even be compared to someone like you. Older demons are more cynical, most of them don't really see you as fully one of them yet, but you've already been rejected by so much of humanity.
It's weird taking with old freinds, or going to places around the city that you used to know. One girl you knew in highschool burst into tears when she saw what you've become. Its hard just explaining to people that you're ok, that you're the one who chose this. Sometimes you'll talk to people and it'll be just the same, even though it's harder to go certain places now, or just how many people are uncomfortable. Or just how strange people find it that you aren't a material being, or that you can't eat with them, or that nothing feels the same.
But sometimes you'll talk to someone, human, or demon, or something else, and they'll be nice to you. And you don't feel like a demon, or like anything, you're just you. You were never just you as a human, you always had to be a human. Mabye that's why this is better.
#196#my thougts#worldbuilding#writing#my writing#my worldbuilding#fantasy#urban fantasy#demons#demon girl#demon boy#angels and demons#demon oc#demon#short fiction#short story#flash fiction#original fiction#magical realism#queer#neurodivergent#transformation#body transformation
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Can you explain why that tweet is bad?
If I have to explain why commenting this
under someone’s Goku x Chichi art is bad, you might be just the kind of rude and tone deaf person to reply shit like this to an artist.
#keep your backhanded compliments to yourself#if you don’t have anything nice to say you say nothing#and if you do shit like this#don’t be surprised if artists will block you#you’ll think they’re so evil and mean#for locking you out#but actually you’re just an unpleasant person#and people dread to interact with you#because you’re bitter and insulting and rude#implying Chichi rapes him because it’s >faster<#calling Goku stupid not once but three times#you’re an asshole if you insult someone’s favorite character under their own art#go be an asshole somewhere else#ask#plumtext
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I don't want to be someone who always just complains (about my body, my brain, my marriage, my family, everything) but I just. can't change the things that bother me. it doesn't get better because I can't make it better no matter how much I tell myself to, I just can't
#I CAN'T just convince myself to not be tired/fatigued at all times#I can't somehow make it so my brain and body are able to work a fucking full time job#I can't. I literally genuinely cannot do it#I can't live on my own I can't go somewhere else I can't have the life and friends and hobbies that I want#I. can't.#and it feels fucking horrible to say that. that's not how it's supposed to be! you're supposed to be motivated and positive and not give up#and believe you can do anything you want#but how. how?#the problems I have are what is stopping me from fixing them. I can't talk myself out of that#yeah if someone gave me a bunch of money or a house or all the support I need I would probably be better! I would be able to do things that#I'm not able to now!#but that's not how it is#no I can't do the laundry and cook and clean and keep the house nice and tidy. I can't even do that. I have no children - no 'excuse' to#stay home and not work#I'm not disabled. there's no illness or anything that would prove or justify that I really can't do it#I'm just broken in a million tiny ways that no one takes seriously at all. I'm just bad.#I should be fine. there is nothing wrong with me that anyone is able to find#so there is nothing wrong#I should just get over it and be strong and motivated and just fucking DO IT#even when it's hard#but it's not hard it's. impossible.#man im so tired
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.
#and its so silly and stupid of me to say this#but somehow wanting to live hurts even more than wanting to die#ive said this before somewhere else but#i want to live. and i want to love and i want to eat nice food and i want to see every sunrise and sunset#and i want to listen to music and wear nice clothes and drive a nice car and i want to travel the world#i want to see butterflies and i want to swim in the ocean#i want wish my parents happy birthdays and i want bike to work and i want to draw and i want to laugh and i want to connect with people#and to grow flowers and to try everything i havent tried yet#i want the beauty of it all i want the comfort and the warmth#i want the the tears and the heartache that makes me stronger i want to move on and i want to reminisce#i want to be alive so bad#these days i just feel like . im here#nothing more#and i dont know when#or if#ill ever get more#chasing after something u dont even know u will reach somehow hurts more than knowing it all ends with death
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just occurred to me this morning as i woke up this morning why i'm (probably) so taken aback by people in orchestra being So Nice to me cause i saw some photos on social media posted by ppl i traveled to [redacted] with, people who only stood to even have a conversation with me as a last resort kind of social option. i have literally Never gotten along with groups of people, Ever, unless that group of people was also orchestra people. seriously
#i wanna talk about me#sasha speaks#i'd say it's kind of sad that most of my irl social life (and half of my online one) begins and ends with other musicians#and probably should've realized YEARS ago what that says about me and my dumb brain (a touch of the 'tism)#but at the same time like. idk i can't truly make myself feel Bad about 90% of my social life#being in the rehearsal hall for the past 7 years#cause i do love playing and i love being somewhere where people don't Fucking Hate Me#(or at least where i'm not constantly the last choice of person to interact with. sometimes below no interaction at all)#and if i convinced myself to hate orchestra on the grounds of it being My One Social Outlet i'd just. idk. die or something#cause i literally have nothing else lol all k have is music#idk maybe music people have an ulterior motive (want me to play good for/with them)#but that's better than not wanting to have anything to do with me at all right?#and anyway. some violist saying he'd rather see me playing principal on the concert than dan. he's got no skin in that game right#except for being nice and liking me as a player#and while i want to be liked as a Person too i'd rather be liked as a player over not liked at all#(i don't think he even necessarily dislikes me as a person. we just never interact outside of rehearsal so i've never really encountered#him in a different context so i wouldnt know lol)#just. agh. getting invited to sit at the lunch table with other people by a pianist classmate. man!!#they don't know that.jpg it means so much to me just to be invited to eat together
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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
You and Spencer finally find time for your first time. 6k
fem, afab!reader, mostly confident!reader, foreplay, oral sex, p in v sex, lovey dovey tender loser sex, established relationship, pet names, aftercare, requested here <3
cw for smut, minors do not read or interact, 18+ content
˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗
“Can you stay still?”
“No,” you answer honestly.
Spencer climbs further toward you on the bed. “I’m trying to help. You’re no good at buttons.”
You’re no good at buttons because your fingers shake whenever you and Spencer get close like this, and with these intentions. You’d always thought he’d be the shy one —sometimes you take his hand in the back of the work car to watch his cheeks go a rosy, unignorable pink. He’s the more introverted of the two of you and he always has been, so why does his touch have you trembling already?
Excitement, you decide, heart in your mouth as his fingers begin to pop your buttons through each matching slit. This is exactly what happened last time you and Spencer tried (and were sorely interrupted). You’d been out of breath and in his lap, too excited to see to his buttons, too busy kissing him to take much notice as he’d taken care of them himself. And then work called, your plans were cancelled, and he’d promised you that you’d get to do this soon.
“I’m good at buttons,” you deny, leaning back on the palms of your hands as his pinky’s brush up, the sides of your shirt falling open.
“Oh, you’re back,” he says. He’s teasing in bed. You aren’t expecting it. “You went somewhere else for a few seconds, you okay?” That’s less teasing, more sweet.
His hands pause just under where your bra begins.
You take a breath. “I’m okay, I’m thinking about last time.”
He leans in for a kiss, a quick but steady catching that has your face following him as he pulls away again, and undoes your next button. “Which part?”
The part where he’d insisted you’d be laying down for this. The memory alone inspires heat, pleasure and wanting from the depth of your chest, your stomach, ever lower.
“Did you lock your door?” you ask.
Your phones are off. The door is locked. Spencer promises as much in your ear as leans in closer to you, crawls that last few inches of space to have your legs tangled atop his white sheets, his hand disappearing under the open sides of your shirt. The other hand works the last few buttons, but you don’t get to watch him do it, distracted by his fingers hot on the small of your back and his lips as he pulls you in tight for another kiss.
This one’s slow. He holds you like he’s worried you’re gonna slip out of his arm where it curls behind you, cool air kissing your chest as he gets the last button by your neck and encourages either side away from you. You lean into him and shake your shirt down the lengths of your arms, finally shirtless in front of him again after days of trying. You try to keep up with his kissing, he’s intense, he’s everywhere, but you run out of breath.
“Oh,” you say uselessly, your cheek against his as he kisses your jaw.
“What, angel?” he asks, breath warm to your skin, “What’s up?”
“Nothing… I wore my nice bra for you.”
“You did?” He promptly pulls away. His face is pinking, but it’s so warm you can’t blame him for it. You’re sure he’d feel a furnace under your skin if he touched your forehead. Spencer’s gaze falls down to your chest, where it stays, his own rising and falling with a noticeable sharpness. “That’s pretty. You’re pretty.” He swallows as he looks up. “Your nice bra? Just one?”
You cover a breast with your hand and push it up ever so slightly. “This is the one I thought you’d like most. You like blue.”
“I love blue. I love you, I love you,” he says, leaning around you to move your discarded shirt to the floor. “Can I take it off?”
You nod with a stupid smile. Fond and too eager. “Please.”
“How many tries do I get?” he asks, grabbing your sides in two gentle hands, pulling you forward into a hug as he reaches behind you for the clasp.
“You can do it one,” you promise, voice a murmur now he’s close to you.
You let your hands rest on his hips as he pinches the clasp and pushes it together. Like magic, it comes apart. Spencer holds the unclasped sides to your naked back for a few seconds, his breath loud in your ear, before he sits back to look at you.
You push the straps of your bra down, let the support of your bra fall away. You ball it up in your lap, sitting there bare-chested and smiling, waiting, hoping you’re as beautiful to him as he’s always made you feel.
His hand climbs your arm. “You’re beautiful,” he says, “can I–”
“Yeah, please. Please.”
His thumb rubs a short line from your navel to the skin just below your breast. Your chest feels suddenly heavy, the half-lidded set of his eyes on you like a weight, but it’s one you realise you like as he rubs the indent of your bra. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb pressing into the underside of your breast, kind but undeniably there, and your body reacts to his touch, which is another thing. He doesn’t coo, but it’s close. “How does that feel?” he asks quietly, drawing under your nipple with his thumb.
“Can you kiss me some more?” you ask, breathless in a way that’s almost painful.
Spencer clutches you by your sides, unafraid to play with you, pressing you down into the bed as his hands traverse up. You shuffle back into the pillows and let your eyes shutter closed, his nose pressing hard into yours as your lips meet again. He kisses hungrily. He’s treated you to a few heavy kisses in the past, nothing compares now to the open crescent of his lips and the feeling of his hands. His tongue is hot where it touches your lips, wading in. You sigh into his mouth and feel his own sigh in return as he breaks it.
“Fuck,” he says, his breath coloured by pleasure. He’s practically moaning in your ear as a big hand squeezes your chest.
You can’t take this. You lift your hips and graze against him, rushing to reach down and slip your skirt over the curve of your ass and over stocking clad thighs. You try to push them along at the same time, breathing hard.
Spencer notices what you’re doing and reaches to help.
“Your shirt,” you argue, faces close, his confusion an inch away, as are his pinked lips, “take your shirt off, Spencer, I can do this myself.”
“But why should you have to?” he says, though he listens, making quick work of his button up.
You kick your stockings off of your feet and lay there, warm, overwhelmed but desperate at once, watching him on his knees as he manages his last button and peels out of his shirt. You cross your legs tightly against the achy heat blooming in your cunt, uncharacteristically shy.
His chest is pale, without a freckle nor beauty mark, but he’s shapely. You've kissed him so much these last few months, traced the hills and rigid muscle of his front with an adoring hand under his clothes, but the two of you being similarly bared is different.
It’s worse when he reaches for the button of his slacks.
You bite your lip. “Spencer, can I do it?”
“Yeah.” He swallows again. “Of course you can. Don’t ask me.”
He’s getting warm, curls of his hair falling into his eyes, his breath a constant huff. The bulge of him through his slacks draws your attention. You crawl toward him where he’s kneeling, checking his face. When he nods, you rub the very pad of your thumb against the line of his cock, feel it jump at your touch. Your heart jumps in a similar place.
“This okay?” you whisper, your touch light enough that you’re surprised he can feel it.
“Please.” He says your name like you’ve hurt him. “Please. Take them off.”
“I can’t believe you’re like that just from kissing me,” you say sincerely, a mumble as you pop the button and dig your fingertip under the zipper, which you pull down in one smooth line. There’s an immediate release of pressure against his cock. You blink. It’s so warm in here. “Spence, can I–”
“Please.”
You nod to yourself and shift onto one elbow, shocked and even warmer when Spencer plumps a pillow behind you. Your anticipation is an ache that won’t ebb, hands trembling again as you pull the band of his pants down his hips and expose a pair of white and blue boxer briefs. A darkened patch of material rests against the tip of his cock, the curve of him ever harder as you touch him.
He sucks in air through his teeth.
“Aw, Spence,” you say, pressing the length of your thumb to his cock and breathing out as you ride the curve of him up to that wet spot. “Sweetheart… Does that feel good?”
He closes his hand on top of yours and holds you there. “Can I kiss you?” he asks.
“I think I gotta kiss you first,” you say, eyes on his straining boxers. “Think you might need one.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t. I’ll ruin everything before we’ve even started, you can’t kiss me like that.”
“Are you sure? I can make sure you’re ready.”
You’d never force him into anything. You’re letting him know it’s alright. You’re not gonna push him over the edge before he’s done, you just wanna do all the stuff with him that you’ve been dreaming about for a while now. You have a feeling he might enjoy it.
“You can tell me to stop whenever you need me to,” you say softly, feeling his cock twitch in your hand at the mere sound of your voice. “I wanna see you.”
He laughs infectiously, almost drunkenly, the two of you giggling as he shifts your hands. He doesn’t say anything more, only moves your hands down over the softer base of his cock to encourage his pants out of the way, and then his boxers.
His cock is pretty like he is as he pulls it out. You knew it would be. A little taller than your hand, he tugs it toward his stomach and you watch in delight as a string of precum catches the light, wetting his palm.
You’re patient. He lets it stand without help and you curl your hand where his had been at the base, his cock shining in lines, that welling of precum spread messily around and worse when you give a soft pump. “Oh my god,” he mumbles, shuffling closer to you on his knees, his hand leaping to your shoulder. “Oh, god.”
You tilt your head. “How’s that, baby?”
“Please, angel.”
You lean in for a kiss.
Just a kiss, but your lips part, your spit ready on your tongue and slick in a heavy line up the side of his cock. All you can think of in that moment is how much you want him, how gentle his hand is on your shoulder despite the wounded little breath he lets out, and the stickying feeling of wetness that grows between your thighs, your underwear damp at the very centre and clinging to you as you crawl as close to his front as you can get. You kiss and kiss up the side of him, not silly enough to love on his most sensitive skin at the head, not after his warning, though the idea of his cock shuddering against your lips and tongue makes you squeeze your eyes closed.
You kiss shy of his tip and tilt your head back to look at him. He’s already watching you, squinting with a palpable agony.
“Are you okay? Is that alright?” you ask, loosening your grip on his cock to draw a loving, sweet line down, and down.
He catches your wrist. “You can’t do that again,” he warns gently, hint of a smile in his eyes. You beam at him adoringly. “Lay back? There’s something in my way.”
“In your way,” you murmur through a smile, laying back in the pillows as he’s asked you.
Spencer sheds his slacks and boxers. You pull your legs up to give him room to kneel on the bed by your legs, pulse like a constant humming ache against your cunt as he takes your calves into his hands and presses your knees together. “You’re not gonna say please like I did, are you?” he asks.
“Do you need me to?��� you ask, teasing him with your own hand, letting it travel from the base of your throat and over a tightened breast to your stomach, then your underwear. You flick the waistband. His eyelashes flare. “I can say please, Spence, I’d love to say please for you. Is that what you want me to do?”
“I don’t ever want you to say please, you know that.” He encourages one leg flat to the bed. The other, he pushes up, fabric of your underwear tight to your warm cunt and heartbeat surely taking up station in your throat. “Maybe I can say please.” His hand coasts down your thigh. “Would you like that?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t say please, or don’t touch you?” he asks, stopping his squeezing.
“Spencer!” you laugh, moving your hips ever so slightly, raising them in hopes of his understanding. “This is cruel, I didn’t tease you.”
“You’re nice,” he says, again pressing your leg up toward your stomach, eyes on the bump of your cunt as he begins to lean down. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a surprising kiss to your soft inner thigh. “So perfect.” Closer now, nose skirting toward the elastic of your underwear. “Please, can I?”
You press your shaky hand to your lips, palm out. “Please,” you say into your skin. “Yeah. Yes, you can. Can you?”
A kiss to the skin beside your cunt, his free hand riding up to squeeze the bump of it, his thumb pressing against wet heat, your breath caught. He rubs a line up from the wet to your clit, and he smiles when he finds it, though that smile is swiftly overtaken by parting lips as he kisses a mixture of skin and fabric and starts to suck. You hiccup at the feeling.
“You sound cute when you’re happy,” he says into your thigh. He turns his head slowly, looking up at you, his thumb rubbing almost absentmindedly at the sensitive little hood of your clit, your nerves all over the place. He’s giving you the puppy eyes, big and brown and in sickly love with you.
“Happy’s not the right word,” you breathe out.
“I should fix that, right?”
Your stomach does a hard flip. “Yeah.”
Spencer isn’t as timid about it as you’d imagined he’d be, his reality better than any fantasy, his hands kind but quick where twists his fingers into the waistband of your underwear as he begins pulling them down.
He lets out a long breath as the air kisses your cunt, his eyes trained obviously on one spot in particular as he takes your panties all the way to your feet. He rolls one leg off, leaves the other hanging at your ankle as he grabs the soft underside of your knee and encourages your leg up.
You can feel your cunt spread, feel the wetness that had been growing dribble from you. “Ah,” you say, more breath than word while he holds your leg in place. “Spencer–”
“Am I hurting you?”
“No, no, I just need you to touch me, please, I–”
He says your name, says, “Hey, don’t talk like that, I’ve got you, I’m gonna touch you, just needed to know you’re okay–”
“Spencer–” you squirm with wanting.
“I know,” he says, the tip of his cock turned impossibly red where it’s resting against the heaving of his abs, “trust me.”
He reaches for your abdomen, his palm resting lovingly on the pudge of your tummy. You squirm for it lower. “If you think I’m not gonna give you everything you want, you're crazy. When don’t you get your way?” He leans down, and to your relief, your little gasp of breath, he kisses your naked cunt. “When don’t I want to give it to you?” he asks into your skin.
Every word he says is heat and movement against the nerves that make up your clit. You practically shiver as he lets his lips part against you and kisses all over, unafraid to feel every little bit of you, his tongue pressed wet and flat your softest parts. You spread your legs in anticipation of him, his thank you a kiss that lights up every nerve ending you have that stems from your hips, the breath racing out of you and moans not far behind. He rubs the length of your leg, his fingers trailing towards his kissing. The hand that isn’t up to something just loves on your skin. The hand that is pauses shy of your cunt’s wet hole —you can’t help letting out a choked moan as he sucks on your clit and the skin around it, sudden, the feeling of hot slick dripping from you worse as he pulls away with a quiet pop.
His lips shine in the lamplight. “I’m gonna start getting you ready, okay?” he asks, a small smile somewhere in the midst of a gaze that’s otherwise laden with lust. His fingertips tease your entrance. “What do you think, angel, can I do that?”
You might need a kiss to get through it. You can’t decide whether you want him to keep eating you out like that, like you’re water to the famished, like he’s worried he’s not quick enough to get every bit of you where he wants it, but you’re so desperate to be fucked by him that you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. “Spencer, you need to kiss me,” you decide.
“I am–”
“No, come here. Need you on top of me. You can get me ready,” you agree, eyes peculiarly damp, “but I really wanna kiss you right now, baby, please, please–”
He’s on top of you by your second please. You gasp at the rigidity of his cock pressing to your cunt and find it lost in his mouth, his fingertips wet with sex pressed to the side of your face. He remembers himself, kisses all the same but hand moving down again, turning his weight onto the bed and off of you as he feels at your cunt. His fingers slide through hair and wetness alike to tease at your cunt. You can feel wet on his fingers as he pushes in just a centimetre, again on his thumb when he circles your heat carefully, and all the while he’s kissing you like he’s been starved of you. He’s saying angel and so pretty against your stinging mouth.
It’s strange when he pushes two fingers in, but not bad. You’ve never done this with one another, and it takes him a few careful thrusts of his fingers to figure out where he should be directing his motion, and what to do to make you happy. You nod into his mouth as he finds a sweet spot and presses into it, quirked fingers quick to the very last knuckle, his pinky and index fingers sliding without resistance against the wet mess on either side of your cunt. “There?” he asks.
“Yes,” you say, pulling his face closer to yours, your hands twined deep in his hair.
He digs around against your walls, to your abject joy and something else, some emotion you can’t name, the want to be touched everywhere by him, to be the kind of full of him where you can’t breathe.
He presses his fingers inside you, undulating against the gum of your walls, and groans into your lips as you pull in a shivery breath. His hips jerk hard, his cock sliding against your stomach hot as a brand.
Spencer pulls up. You’re in the throes of one another, but his eyes are clear. “How do you want it?” he asks tenderly. “Can I stay here, or should I move back?”
“Just to start, it’s always tight–” You catch your breath now he’s paused, stroking curls away from his flushed cheeks. “I’ll sit up a little and you can still hold my hand,” —he doesn’t question this even for a second— “just so you can see what you’re doing, and then–”
“It’s okay, we can work it out,” he interrupts. “I’m not gonna rush and hurt you.”
“I didn’t think you would,” you whisper, cupping his face in your hand.
He ducks in for a slow, chaste kiss.
“I know you didn’t,” Spencer says. He takes another kiss, pressing one to the top of your chin.
Then he’s shuffling backwards and off of you, and he’s grabbing your hips, lifting you up as he positions himself at your cunt. You shuffle back in the opposite direction to wedge yourself firmly in his pillows, knees up and heels either side of his lap as he moves in. His cock rubs against your cunt by accident, then quickly again with a deliberateness, like he’d felt you and couldn’t help himself.
“God, you’re so pretty,” he says. His eyebrows pinch together in a glare, his thumb pressing to your clit. There’s no purchase there anymore, your wetness having made its way up, but he rubs it nonetheless. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
You grab his hand. Twine your fingers into his. “I love you, Spence,” you say easily. “Don’t be shy.”
He’s giving you that Can’t believe I’m with you look that he often does. It reminds you of the first time you met when you’d called him beautiful without knowing he’d mean this much to you one day, because he really was gorgeous, everything you’d ever want in a guy and lovelier after. You flirted your way into being his friend, and one day your hand-holding was hugging, your friendly cheek kissing turned to lazy hickeys, and he’s still giving you that look. Like he doesn’t deserve you. Like you’re gonna disappear.
You reach between your centre and his to nudge his hand down, guiding him into place. “Say you love me,” you request in a murmur.
“I love you,” he says, head of his cock against your opening. He abandons your clit, to your disappointment, but he’s grabbing the rump of your ass and hip to hold you in place.
He is achingly, achingly slow. He’s so gentle with his thrusts that you feel like you could love him twice as much as when you started, his wrinkled brow, his eyes flitting between your face and the stretch of your cunt to check on you as he goes. He reaches a natural resistance, nothing he couldn’t push past if he didn’t want to, but he doesn’t have to —he’s not fully sheathed and yet you’re aflame with pleasure. He’s at just the right angle. All he needs to do is move.
“There?” he asks softly,
“Please, right there.”
He pushes forward and a breath leaves his lips like you stole it. “You’re tight,” he says, “I knew you would be at first, but I didn’t expect– do I need to stop?”
“No, no, that’s the best part…” You close your eyes. If he weren’t holding your hand you’d cover your face. “Spence, it’s supposed to feel like this, baby. You just find the way you like it and I’ll tell you if it’s not right.”
“Promise?”
“Promise– oh.”
The fronts of his thighs press to yours, his cock flush to your walls and digging into something sweet and sensitive enough to make your thighs shake. Good luck, you think, for the two of you to fit together like this, for his cock to fill you without hurting or leaving you wanting, even though he’s just a little over half inside. He goes slow, almost repetitive, his thumb drawing dedicated half circles into the back of your hand where he’s securing it to your hip. Breathe, you think, I have to breathe. There’s nobody here but Spencer. You can show him exactly how this is making you feel.
“Fuck,” you say, letting out a little moan, worried it won’t be something he likes.
“Fuck,” he echoes emphatically, “does that feel good, angel?”
“Uh-huh,” you say. His chest shines with sweat, his cock driving in, all his touching and adoring drawing a litany of your most vulnerable sounds, hiccups and whimpers, beggy breaths that plead for him to do exactly what he’s doing until he can’t.
“Can you keep your leg up?” he asks.
“What?”
“Can you lift your leg, angel? I need my hand.”
You nod hurriedly and hold your leg aloft as he’d been, not pretzeled but giving him the room he needs to drive forward. He’s swift in his intention, pressing his free hand to your cunt, unabashed, marriage and middle finger slippery against the head of your clit and drawing precise circles. After a few timid thrusts of his hips, he matches speed. Every thrust met with a circle of your clit, his face dipping down to kiss your leg.
“There,” he says to your knee, “I got you, I’ll get you there.”
“I don’t wanna cum yet,” you confess.
“No, I know, but you have to feel good, I need to touch my girl.”
You don’t want to argue with that. He’s never said something like that.
He goes on. “You’re so pretty, I don’t know– I don’t–” He gives a tight smile, “don’t think you know how beautiful you are, you feel–” He moans, then, like he’s pleading.
You don’t expect to be close this soon. It had to be the way he’s talking to you, or his lazy mouthing at your cunt before you’d started. “Wait! Wait, Spence, don’t,” —you grab his hand to stop him from drawing anymore circles— “I have to do it, or I’m gonna cum already.”
He says fuck, thrusts in just a little deeper than he had been, head of his cock kissing just the right place, “Show me how to do it the way you need it.”
You play on the edge of your orgasm for long, long minutes, your hand over Spencer’s drawing the smallest of circles, your nerves aching, the pressure of it like his hands pressed to your tummy. Spencer fucks you, fucks into you, ruts into you when you give him a flirty smile, angling his hips a touch to the side.
You usher him down to you, craning your head up to his. “Can I have a kiss?” you ask with a voice stretched to gossamer. You’re in love with him and you could cry for it as he fucks you, but you try not to. Not yet.
Spencer licks his lips. “You can have everything.”
He slows his thrusts to a drag. Slow drag out, full push in. His hips press to yours and you squeak as he fills you with every inch he has, his hands vying for your clammy face.
He can only thrust slowly from there, though it feels like it’s hitting somewhere new, if not deeper. Shifts of his hips against yours, a mess of slick between you and the friction of his skin. You kiss and pant into each others mouths, spit stretching like a string from his lip to yours that he promptly kisses away. It’s everything you needed it to be, and you can’t hold off much longer. “Wanna cum,” you tell him, stroking the skin under his eye, his gaze aligned with yours.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Can you– like before–”
Spencer understands. He sits back, drags you by the hips onto his cock, and set about fucking that dedicated pace, three fingers pressed to your clit. He goes as slowly as you showed him at first, and that in time with his thrusts sends a pleasure through you that makes you gasp. He speeds his hips at the same time as his fingers, your skin so wet that it requires dedication to wind the coil, but he does wind it, over and over and over again until your walls are rigid tight and your hips are working desperately to chase the feeling. He’s pushing you to the edge.
You cum, and your breath gets caught. You force out a breath and you keen in the feeling, covering your face with both hands as Spencer pushes you through it with a few last teasing circles and a couple of quick thrusts.
Spencer knows without asking to slow as you come down. You laugh into your hands.
He doesn’t quibble when you let your legs fall flat around him, only strokes your thigh, paused half inside of you to offer you one of his shy smiles. “You even sound pretty,” he says.
“You think so?”
“Of course I do.”
He takes a measured thrust. He’s not not confident these days, but you can see the man you adore now between your legs, in love with you but not sure what to do. “You can keep going, baby.”
“You sure?” he asks.
It’s gonna be intense, but you want that. “Come back,” you say, angling your tired legs around him. “Come lay on top of me… Please.”
It’ll be nice to hug him now. You whine as his cock slips out of you and again as he lays atop you and slides it back in, your cunt waiting for him and slick as anything as he settles.
“Is this too much?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
He rolls his hips demonstratively. You didn’t know there was anything left there to give him, but he can have it.
You wrap your arms around him, your forearms to the line of sweat on his back, and give him a hard hug. “You can have everything,” you utter, repeating his earlier promise to him with the same encapsulating love as you cling. “Fuck me however you want.”
When it starts again, chills ride up your spine. Spencer finds a place you didn’t know you had and fucks against it with love, so deep you feel like you can’t breathe, his nose rubbing harshly into your cheek. He squeezes your shoulders tight in his arms and you’re sure you’ll never catch your breath again, and you don’t want him to stop. You’ve never felt this close to him.
Your naked chest rises uselessly beneath him as you fall into the whining, pleading bit of sex, your moans half gasp and lost in his hair as he burrows his face into the pillow by your head to hide his same desperation.
“There you are,” he mumbles, hips grinding into yours. He must say your name ten times in a row, each one more frayed than the last, until he’s lost it completely.
“Go faster, sweetheart,” you suggest, squeezing his hips between your thighs.
Spencer begins again in earnest, nipping crescent moons into the curve of your neck, thrusting fast until he can’t. You hear him trip into cumming like it’s an accident, his thighs go all tense and his cock throbs as he presses you flat, flat to the bed.
He gives a last few greedy thrusts before he calms, though he doesn’t stop moving. Spencer rolls his hips for a slow, languishing minute.
His hand finds your shoulder. His face turns to yours as you turn yours to his, two halves of a good kiss.
“I love you,” you whisper.
He’s panting, but his reciprocation is immediate. “I love you more.”
“No, you don’t.”
Spencer lifts himself up enough to wrap his arms behind your head, almost framing your head where you’re laid underneath him. “Trust me, I do.” His eyes shutter. You close your own in wait of another kiss, but he’s sliding the tip of his nose down the bridge of your own. He draws a circle, draws soft lines over your cheek in zigzags.
“Tell me what to do now,” he murmurs.
You scratch his back lightly. “Aw, Spencer, just keep doing this.”
—
Spencer cleans you up and you finally cry, a couple of tears you’re hoping he won’t notice as he drops the towel on your leg. He holds you with his hand behind your back and murmurs words too nice for such silly tears into your cheek, before asking, scared, if he’d hurt you.
“No, no, it’s like the most intense relief in the world!” you tell him, selfishly basking in the muscle of arms where they’re wrapped around you, and his silky hair whispering over your ear. “I feel amazing.”
“I didn’t think you’d be one of the women who cry afterward,” he says. He’s not judging you, simply sharing an observation. It makes sense. You’re not usually emotional in such an unconstrained way.
“I’m really happy.” You pinch his chin mildly.
“Your legs are hurting.”
You let him go. “Yeah, a bit. It’s a nice hurting. Like we went for a really long walk.”
He takes your face into both hands and tips your head back. You’re slouched forward, he’s straight-backed, and he’s taller where he’s grinning at you. His hand comes to rest against one of your breasts, giving it a little cup before he presses it flat over your heart. “I thought you were never gonna calm down.”
“You have that effect on people.”
“Maybe that’s true for you,” he says, tapping your nose with his, encouraging you to lift your chin. “But only one person’s ever made me lose my breath like that,” he adds, your lips touching, not kissing.
You could keep him forever. “Think we should turn our phones back on?” you ask.
“When I’ve made you something to drink, sure. And found you something to wear, right? It’s too cold.”
You’re still hot enough to cook an egg, but you let him take care of you. It’s as good as being fucked, being adored when it’s done. He gives you underwear first, a soft tank top and a pair of panties you’d left here before and he’d washed and pressed, your sweetheart. You’re surprised he doesn’t help you into them, but you notice with fond bemusement that he’s cringing as he steps into a fresh pair of boxers.
“You okay, handsome? Did you tweak something?”
He’s in pants before you realise, standing shirtless with sex-tousled hair. You could ask him back to bed if you weren’t exhausted. “I’m not in shape.”
“I could say otherwise.”
Spencer’s on top of you again in an instant. He sits on your naked leg and pulls down your rising tank top before twinging your hands in his. He’s practically in your lap as he kisses your chin. It’s that earnest you end up giggling, lovestruck, two idiots holding hands. He steals a couple of lazy kisses. You can’t remember how many you’ve had anymore.
“You’re contrary,” he says as he pulls away.
“Can’t you be nice to me? You were acting so nice.”
He slides off of your leg. “You’re my best friend. I hope we’re this happy for the rest of our lives.”
You fist your hand in the rumpled sheets behind you. He’s apparently unaware he’s said the most special thing he could’ve, opening his closet door to retrieve your pyjamas from the shelf he dedicated to you the first time you slept over. You are best friends, is the best part. He’s not exaggerating.
Before he’d ever kissed you, you were in love. You’ve been in love for years.
Spencer drops your pyjamas next to you on the bed. “You want me to help you put them on?”
You have no reason to need help tonight, but you want it. “Yes, please. Can you rub my back after?”
“Yesss. I’d love to rub your back. If we maintain our physical connection after sex, it enhances the relaxing factor but it also prolongs the effect of the oxytocin and dopamine your brain would’ve released when we were–” He picks up your sleep shirt and shakes it out. “Well, you know.”
“Any more sex facts for me?”
Spencer has the nerve to blush, considering the way he’d spoken to you only ten minutes ago. “An orgasm as a woman can lower your risk of heart disease, breast cancer, and depression.”
You smile at him sweetly. “No kidding. How much to get that risk down to zero?”
He kisses your cheek. “You know that’s not how it works.”
“We can still try.”
“Um. Can I have a banana first?”
“I’m kidding!”
“Oh.” He gestures for you to put your arms into the sleep shirt. “Well, maybe you can have a banana too and we’ll see how we feel.”
˗ˋˏ ʚ♡ɞ ˎˊ˗
Thank you for reading!!!!! I hope you enjoyed it! please reblog or let me know what you thought if you have the time, but I hope you enjoyed regardless!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer and bombshell reader#criminal minds#spencer reid smut
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how would rafe be when he’s at kelce’s house hanging out with friends and he brought shy reader with him when it’s late and she’s yawning and starts tugging on his arm whispering in his ear ‘i’m sleepy’ but trying not to interrupt
this was soooo lovely ♡ theyre such cuties
true to form—you're an early sleeper. there's no reason to stay awake so late, not when you're always home and your favorite baking show airs early. it was a habit, one that you had been feeding for years, and now that you were dating rafe, he was feeding into it too.
dates ended early, always coming back to tannyhill with ice cream for dessert before the sun had even finished setting. you rarely went to parties with him, but even when you did, he'd find a way to get you home or a locked room to sleep in while he finished selling.
and though you appreciated it like nothing else, you didn't want your boyfriend to get upset that you could never do anything that he liked. that's why you'd sucked it up today, accompanying rafe to kelce's for a 'hang out'—code for beer, pizza, and every person that the three boys knew.
curled up next to rafe, you drink the apple juice from kelce's fridge. it belongs to his little sister, but beer is disgusting and there's nothing else besides hard liquor. rafe's on his second, but still completely sober, while top is drunk already.
the sun set maybe an hour ago—and you've been yawning ever since. you think for a second, listening to the boys talk, that if you close your eyes, you might not be able to open them again. heavy lids flutter shut as you take in the conversation.
"i took out that girl. the one she introduced me to," kelce says, and though your eyes are closed, you know he just gestured to you.
"how was it?" rafe asks, his grip around your shoulder getting a little tighter. it feels warmer, and you snuggle in, finding sleep increasingly hard to evade.
"she was nice-"
"i had a girl once," topper drunkenly slurs, interrupting.
"shut it, top. yeah, kelce?" rafe asks, and even in your state, you feel yourself smile a little. making sure people finish their sentences after they've been interrupted is a habit you have passed on to rafe.
"it was good. she's a little quiet, but-"
"takes some time to open up," you mumble sleepily against rafe's arm. you don't know if they heard you, but your boyfriend did, leaning in to brush some hair away from your face, pushing it behind your ear. you hear top and kelce talking in the background.
"tired, kid?" he asks, quiet and into your ear. you blink a little, steadying yourself with the arm you'd been leaning on.
"no," you lie. "i'm fine. keep talking."
"late for you, huh?" rafe says, and though you don't want to admit it to him and be a buzzkill, nothing sounds better than going home and sleeping next to him right now—no matter how much you want to make sure kelce asks your friend out on another date.
"just sleepy," you mumble back. "but we don't have to go."
you look up at rafe, and you suddenly feel incredibly awake, when you take in how he's looking down at you—concerned eyes, a soft smile, all his attention on you with two friends and a bunch of people waiting for their turn near him.
"c'mon. grab your stuff." he turns away from you, doing that goodbye handshake thing that boys do with each other to kelce, topper too drunk still and instead getting a hard pat on the back. "we're goin'. see you tomorrow, and make sure no more beer for this one."
rafe takes you home, and though somewhere inside you feel bad for making him leave early, you begin to realize he's not mad about it. with that thought in mind, you fall asleep in the passenger seat of his truck.
he carries you upstairs.
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they're my babies
#made new blorbos for narrative class. gonna infodump#the one on the left is the older sister. her name is Nicole and shes a nerd/gamer#shes really fucking blind without her glasses lol#fashion choices include: nothing. she just takes whatever and dresses however is most comfy#very asocial but not an asshole. shes just cronically socially anxious#the one on the right is Andrew or Andy#he's the antithesis of Nick...#Mind you he still loves her very much and still trusts her as his older sis#but he doesnt understand her a lot of the times.#He's very social and got a golden retriever personality (lol)#Can talk his way out of any situation#he seems innocent 99% of the time but that is true only to 40%#I dont know what else to say... i should write this down somewhere nice so i can use it for class lol
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HEADCANNONS
Dating Lucifer
NSFW AND SFW
Protective. He's insecure, right? So I think he's probably protective in the way where if you're somewhere where he isn't he'd text you once every five minutes checking up on you and asking where you are. He really wants you to be safe, as well.
Clingy, he likes you to be around him for as long as possible. He also loves it when you're attached to his hip, it makes him feel loved and appreciated in a way he can't describe.
When he met you stopped wearing his wedding ring so you wouldn't assume he was still with Lilith. He wanted to make the best impression, of course.
Touchy, he will often randomly squeeze your thigh or ruffle your hair in a fatherly manor. Or sometimes he'll just give you a random peck on the lips if he feels like it.
Made you a duck that looks like him so you can have him with you wherever you go, he's sort of sentimental like that.
Of course, sentimental. He loves to give you random items or even just food that he thinks you'll like, and he'll usually make a big prideful scene if you do the same for him.
If you're taller than him during sex you always have to be below him, he likes to feel big and powerful during sex.
DADDY KINK OKAY I SAID IT. He adoores it when you call him daddy, he absolutely ADORES it. He can't even explain why, just that feeling he gets whenever you do is like nothing else.
Likes to praise more than degrade during sex, but if he's in a mood could very much degrade you.
Likes it when you wear his clothes, specifically his hat. He likes to see you wearing things of his especially when you're out so everyone knows you're with him. People don't tend to mess with you anyway cause you're with him a lot of the time.
_________
Relationship overview
Relationship health: 95/100 (he could work on his attachment and clinginess issues, but depending on the partner, clinginess could be good or bad)
Relationship affection: 100/100 (He is so cuddly! Loves to touch you all the time! If he could he'd have you attached to him so he could hug you all day)
Relationship sex: 85:100 (doesn't always have the time or stamina, he is the ruler of hell of course)
Relationship love: 100/100 (he looooooves you :3 (all I have to say))
Relationship strength: 85/100 (he often worries that you're going to leave him which does put some pressure on you a lot)
Relationship overview: 93/100 (genuinely a nice guy who can sometimes be misunderstood. But he always has the best intentions!
#proship#senseichaos#antishippers dni#senseichaosdrabbles#proship fanfiction#hazbin hotel#lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader smut#lucifer x reader fluff#lucifer headcanons#lucifer x reader headcannons#hazbin hotel headcannons#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fanfiction
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Remember Me*
Summary: The one where you and your best friend, Harry, reminisce over the first time he ever ate you out.
Word Count: 3.1k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, brief daddy kink, mention of knife kink + blood kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pre-consented somnophilia, not suitable for Ramadan!
“There you go, good girl. Just like that. Cum for me, Bee. Right now.”
You squirm, fingers curling into the silky sheets below as you suck in a quiet breath.
You can feel his lips on your neck. Your chest. Your inner thighs. Soft, gentle, devious. He’s everywhere. Purring in your ear, holding your hips in his hands. Keeping you just where he wants you like you’re nothing but a toy for him to play with.
You’ve never been so close. So satisfied, so pleasured. So ready to let go.
And then…you wake up.
Your lashes flutter as you slowly come to. The bedroom is dark. Still. You can hear the fan in the corner of the room and Harry’s soft inhales from somewhere beside you. Your heart is thumping hard and heavy against your ribcage while your dream slowly dissipates into reality. Disappearing into the back of your mind as you remind yourself where you really are.
And then you realize that Harry’s not beside you but below you. His breathing louder and heavier than it was before.
You look down.
And there he is, large body settled between your spread thighs as he holds you open and stares lovingly at the mess you’ve made.
And suddenly, your dream doesn’t feel so distant as you blink the sleep from your eyes and whisper, “Har?”
He glances up, pretty green eyes somehow bright even in the dark. He smiles and his lips glisten. “Hi, baby. Were you having a nice dream?”
You take in a sharp inhale and nod once. “Ye—yeah.”
“Good.” He dips down to kiss your hip. “Hope I didn’t ruin it for you.”
“No…no, I just…I…I thought I was…”
“I know,” he murmurs and kisses the other side. “I know, Bee. And you need me to fix it, don’t you?”
You blink.
“Kept whimpering for me,” he says. His palms dance down the side of your body. Squeezing lightly as though to reassure you. “Begging me to make you cum…to touch you…taste you. Said you needed my tongue.”
Your chest feels heavy as you watch him ghost his mouth up your stomach.
“And I wanted to help,” he tells you. “Wanted to make it better for you.”
He stops, but only to look up and find you again.
“Is that all right, sweet girl?” he whispers.
You nod quickly. After all, the two of you made an agreement months ago that waking each other up with sex was more than all right. You don’t do it too terribly often, but the times when you do…
You almost start to pant.
“Good,” he says, grinning once more as he runs his thumb along your aching cunt. “But I want you to do something for me, yeah?”
“Yeah…”
He moves his mouth to your inner thigh. “Want you…” He travels up your skin toward your pussy. “To tell me…” He brushes his lips over your clit. “What you were dreaming about.”
You feel yourself start to squirm, the warmth of his breath over your cunt enough to send shivers along your spine. “I…I was dreaming about you.”
“Yeah? Better have been,” he teases with a smirk. “What was I doing, hm?”
You watch him poke out his tongue and tease it near your hole. “You…you were doing this.”
He hums. “Was I?”
You nod. “Just…just like you did the first time.”
His eyes flick back to yours. “The first time, hm? When I asked to taste your pretty pussy?”
Another nod.
“Mm.” He shifts a bit on the bed and pushes your legs further apart. “Do you think about that first time a lot, Bee?”
You feel your heart skip. “Yes…”
“Think about how nice you were to let me practice on you?”
“…yes.”
“Cause you were,” he says softly between kisses to your cunt. Not enough to satisfy you, but more than enough to taunt you. “So nice and so sweet for me. Knew I’d never wanna taste anybody else but you for the rest of my life.”
You smile. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did,” he argues. He sucks your clit into his mouth. “Come on, lovie, you had to know I didn’t really want her. Only ever wanted you.”
Your fingers lace through his hair, and he hums. “You knew even back then?”
“Of course.” He rests his cheek on your thigh, gazing at your pussy almost as though in a trance. “Should have known I’d get addicted. I already was, even if I didn’t realize it yet.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.” He starts to pull you open, just to watch the way you clench around nothing. “I’d been addicted to you for years. Just didn’t know why.”
“And eating me out helped with that?”
He chuckles. “Kind of. I really did think I was doing it for Tina, but…the second I saw you, all spread out and dripping…I couldn’t have picked her out of a fucking lineup.”
You squeeze his scalp. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I mean it.” He studies your expression closely. “Bee, I’m so goddamn in love with you it makes my chest hurt. I was in love with you then and I’m in love with you now. Why do you think I kept canceling on her? Why do you think I kept begging you to teach me more things?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Cause you were horny?”
“No,” he exhales and then kisses your pussy again, groaning into you as though he’s a man starved. “No, I was fucking obsessed. And I still am.”
You whimper.
“So, I want you to tell me everything I did in your dream,” he says, his touch growing a bit greedier now as he slips his middle finger inside. “Every little thing you wanted me to do.”
You arch from the bed and try to stay still. You’re not sure how long he’s been teasing you, but it feels far longer than your dream. And you’re already shaking with anticipation as you clutch his curls and say, “You…you were touching me.”
He grins. “How, lovie?”
You reach for his hand and pull it up toward your chest. “Like this,” you pant, and he groans so lewdly, you nearly cum right then.
He squeezes your tit in his palm, kneading it between those long, nimble fingers before he pinches your nipple tight. Eliciting another noise from your throat. And you’ve never been so glad you went to bed without pajamas.
“Like this?” he asks.
You nod before you’re leading him up toward your throat. “And like this…”
You make him squeeze the sides of your neck until your eyes have nearly rolled back. He holds you gently, but with just enough pressure to make your head pound in the absolute best way.
“Yeah?” He crawls a bit higher up your body in order to get a better grip. “I remember the first time you made me choke you. Such an insatiable little thing, weren’t you?”
“Still am,” you quip, sticking out your tongue.
His smile is sadistic as he spits directly onto your tongue and squeezes your jaw shut. “Swallow.”
You do. And the taste of him—of you—is magic. Enough to have you grinding yourself against his bent leg that’s snuggled between your thighs. And he notices, but he does nothing to help you.
“What else?” he asks between desperate kisses. “Huh? What else did my dirty girl want?”
“Your cock,” you whisper. “Wanted your cock so bad, Har. Wanted you to fuck me like you did that first time. Wanted to ride you…see your handsome face when you came.”
“Yeah? Wanted to cut me up all pretty like you did with that knife?”
You pout. “I didn’t cut you up. I just wanted to see it on your cheek.”
He laughs against your shoulder, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Still can’t believe you have a knife kink. And a blood kink.”
“I still can’t believe you do, too.”
“Can’t help it. You just look so pretty in red,” he says easily. “Always have. Skin all sensitive and swollen…lips just begging to be bit…blood that looks so beautiful smeared across your chest—”
You grab onto his cheeks and bring his mouth back to yours. Kissing him so hard, he can’t speak. The image in your head is lewd and delicious and you feel his cock twitch against your hip as his body melts into yours.
“Bee,” he warns after a moment. “Bee, this isn’t about me. This is about you, come on—”
“I will. After you cum first,” you insist, reaching down between you to squeeze his tip. “My dream wasn’t just about me.”
His exhale is shaky as he closes his eyes. “Thought we were recreating the first time I ate you out?”
“Why can’t we do both?” you ask, nipping at his earlobe. “You really think I wasn’t imagining what your cock felt like as I watched you? Even back then?”
You feel his wicked grin against your cheek. “Were you?”
“How could I not? You weren’t the only one with a crush.”
He leans back. “You did not have a crush on me.”
“Yes, I did. How do you know?”
“Because you were still hung up on Eric,” he retorts as he moves down your body, returning to his previous position while you watch him go with a frown. “And I was just a convenient distraction.”
“No,” you snort, grasping onto his chin to recapture his attention. He looks at you. “Harry, you were not a distraction. Eric was the distraction. I made myself get over you by getting under him.”
He pulls his lip between his teeth, but it can’t hide his smirk. “Really?”
“Duh. You asking me to teach you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You gaze at him gently and cup his jaw. “Please don’t forget that.”
The tension between you is palpable but loving, and you giggle when he sucks your thumb into his mouth with a wink.
“Then can you let me recreate the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” he mumbles around your finger. “Because it was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I still haven’t gotten a proper taste.”
You swipe your wet digit over his lips and grin. “Then you better get to it.”
So, he does. After all, Harry is nothing if not obedient and you can’t help but feel a touch proud as he kisses his way down your body until those greedy kisses find your cunt.
He knows exactly what you like. Knows how to hold you, tease you, taste you. He flicks you with the tip of his tongue and pulls you open with his fingers. He groans every time you gasp and swallows like he’s never had a drink in his life.
And then…he blows on you. Lets his warm exhale dance across your drenched pussy until you nearly squirm away altogether. You feel as though you’re being edged. Like he’s denying you the only thing you need and you whine helplessly as you plead with him.
He merely shushes you. “You know better, Bee. Come on.”
You shake your head violently. “I can’t…can’t, Har, please—”
He spanks you. A sharp smack of his palm down your clit. “You fucking rush me and I won’t let you cum at all. Is that what you want, sweet girl?”
“…no, Daddy.”
“No, I didn’t think so. So what are you gonna do?”
“…whatever you tell me.”
He hums, wildly pleased. “Good fucking girl.”
It’s masterful the way he sucks and nips and thrusts. A combination of his fingers and his tongue that bring you closer with every curl. Because after all this time, he knows your body. He’s had a year to learn you and love you. The way you taste, the way you sound, the way you feel. He knows exactly how to treat you and my god does he treat you right.
“H,” you gasp as you reach for his hair. Clutching onto those soft curls for dear life as your legs squeeze the side of his head. “Shit, Har…I’m…”
“You looked just like this when I first tasted you,” he mumbles against your cunt. “You had this cute little fucked-out expression on your face…kept biting your lip and wrinkling your nose. Like you were scared to enjoy it.”
“Wasn’t…wasn’t scared,” you huff, but you know he’s right. “I was just trying to help you learn.”
“Mhm.” He swipes his tongue up the length of you, from hole to hole. “Loved getting to see you so vulnerable for me. And you were so eager to let me. Practically yanked me into you.”
“I did not. Not until we got that collar and leash, anyway.”
His lips pull back with a Cheshire-like grin. Another fond memory. “Speaking of, we should dig that out again. Don’t think we’ve gotten enough use out of it.”
“I agree.”
“Good.” He slaps your clit once more before spitting on it and spreading it around. “Maybe I should make you watch your dirty little videos, too.”
Your chest begins to heave. “Maybe…you should.”
“Maybe I will.” And just like that, he slips three fingers into your quivering cunt.
But the moment he reaches his knuckles and flicks his tongue, it’s over. You gasp, whine, shake. Tremble in his hands and against his tongue before you’re collapsing onto the mattress with the sounds of his grunted praise in your ear.
“Fucking shit, Bee,” you vaguely hear as he pushes your folded legs closer to your chest. “God, I fucking love it when you do that.”
And somehow, through the orgasmic haze, you realize you’ve squirted. Something else you don’t tend to do that often. But when you do…
“Shit,” he says again before burying himself back in the mess. Almost as though he means to breathe it into his lungs. He kisses it, licks it, indulges in it. Takes every last drop for himself, despite the way you whimper. “M’sorry, lovie. Just can’t help it. S’my favorite.”
And you can feel a second one already barreling toward you. You're far more sensitive now and it almost hurts to have him continue. But you know he wants a second one. Know he needs a second orgasm out of you and you're powerless to deny him.
He brushes his touch through your folds and pulls you apart just to look at you. Watching your body spasm with pleasure as your hole flutters around the emptiness where his fingers used to be.
"Harry," you plead, a pitiful mewl.
He dives in. Licking and licking and licking like you're a popsicle on a hot day. He teases your opening with his tongue before smoothing it back up. Again and again, he tastes you. Until your cheeks are stained with tears and your body unravels once more.
When you cum, time stops. You bite on your lip so hard, you draw blood. The metallic taste filling your mouth as you push him back and wiggle away from his ministrations. Nearly sobbing from the painfully beautiful overstimulation.
He laughs lightly but does allow you to rest. Pulling himself up until he can place his head on your chest and settle in your arms. “Shh. You're all right, sweet girl. I've got you. It's okay."
You only whimper.
He peppers kisses across your face until your hiccups subside. His touch is much gentler now and he spends the next few minutes speaking softly and bringing you back down to earth. Doing everything he can to remind you that he's got you. Always.
"I'm proud of you," he finally says. "So fucking proud of you, Bee. Do you know that?"
You sniffle. "Really?"
“Mhm. And not just for squirting. For everything. All the time. The way you carry yourself. The way you love your friends. The way you love me.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck. “I’m so lucky to be loved by you.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Well, I’m so lucky to love you.”
A tender beat passes. Then, he whispers, “Do you think you’d ever wanna get married?”
Just like that, your heart stops. You hope he can’t hear it. “Um…I don’t know. Would you?”
“Probably. Only to you, though.”
“Oh…that’s good.”
He glances up. “I’m not proposing. I mean, not right now. Not like this, I just...I don’t know. I thought I’d see if you…even wanted to marry someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
He shrugs and looks back down. “Yeah. I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d be very good husband material.”
Your expression drops. “Harry,” you whisper, dipping down to press your lips to his temple. “You’d be the best husband in the world. No matter the material you’re made of.”
He chuckles again. “Think if we did get married, my parents would have a heart attack.”
“What? Why?”
“They fucking love you. They’ve been trying to get me to ask you out since we were kids.”
“Shut up, no they have not.”
“M’serious. When I told them we started dating, I swear to God my mom sent me like twenty links to engagement rings ‘just in case.’”
You laugh now, too. “She’s so cute. I’m gonna have the greatest in-laws.”
And for some reason, this makes him smile bigger than he has all evening.
The two of you stay like this for what feels like hours. Snug in each other’s embrace, his heart against yours. And you realize that this is where you were always meant to be. Right here, in this bed with him. From the moment the two of you met all those years ago, he was your Harry. And everything after has merely led you to this moment with him.
You often think about that fateful afternoon when he waltzed into your apartment and asked if he could eat you out. You wonder what would have happened if you’d said no. Could you have been okay with seeing him and Tina? Would you have patched things up with Eric, just to distract yourself?
But then you realize, you don’t want to imagine a world where you rejected him. It was a strange twist of destiny that you brought you and Harry together that day. In a position you never thought you'd be in. But if he hadn't, you'd have never known a happiness like this. A peace like this.
You’d never know him. The real him.
You don’t care if he proposes or not. You don’t care what your future looks like. As long as it’s with him, you’ll feel fulfilled. Happy and content in a way you never thought possible.
And the best part is…you know he feels the same.
By the time you start to feel tired again, it’s nearly morning. Soft streams of sunlight are already dancing through your bedroom window, illuminating the beautiful curve of his back. Glistening through his disheveled curls like a heavenly halo.
It nearly takes your breath away.
You count his freckles and moles like stars in the sky. Run your fingers along his shoulders and spine until he snuggles even closer. You've never felt so lucky to behold someone so beautiful.
However, just before your eyes can flutter shut and allow you to finally find a bit more sleep, your phone buzzes.
Confused, you both turn toward the nightstand where the vibration is coming from before you reach for the device plugged into the wall.
“Who is it?” Harry asks sleepily as he nuzzles his way back into your neck.
You read over the message.
And your stomach drops.
“It’s…”
“What?”
“Um…”
"What?"
You say nothing. Can't. You reread the text three more times in an effort to stall and create some sort of explanation.
But your silence piques his curiosity, and he eventually glances up. "Bee? What's wrong?"
Your pulse starts to race. Your palms start to sweat. And even though you know you have nothing to be afraid of, you take in a stuttered breath.
“It’s…Eric,” you say slowly.
And just like that…the tender moment is over.
Harry sits up, expression hard and unforgiving as he waits for the rest.
And you’re almost afraid to give it to him.
“…he wants to meet.”
I cannot believe it's been one year since the story that changed my life 🥹 And I can't thank you guys enough for what you've done for me!!! It was such a silly little story that I was sure wouldn't do very well, but introduced me to so many amazing people and gave me such a new found love for writing!!!
Thank you for being here and supporting me and Harry and Bee for a whole year now!!! I'm actually going to sob 🥹💞💞 ILY GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @myalovesharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @harrysgf01 @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @vyctorya @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @wolfmoonmusic @wandasbae616 @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @itsmytimetoodream @floral-recs
#harry#harry styles#harry edward styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan#harry styles smut#harry styles request#harry styles concept#smut#concept#soft dom!harry#nsfr#teach me#harry and bee#switch!harry#best friend!harry#best friends to lovers#best friendrry#bffrry
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Had to be You
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (enemies to lovers ish)
Word Count: 2,270
Summary: You and Bucky have been going at each other for months. He's grumpy and defensive. You're sassy and frustrated. Steve's had enough. So when Steve steps in to do something will it work? Or will it makes things worse?
Author's Note: At this point all I want is for Bucky to kiss me senseless for the rest of my life (and do everything else) but really. Kisses. Yes please. Anyway. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: some light mead comsumption, angsty ex talk, tension but softness, happy ending
“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS! You get back here right now and open this door before I kick your ass!”
Steve’s chuckle only makes you angrier. “I’ll open it when you two make nice.”
“STEVE!” you screech.
His retreating footsteps have you banging your forehead into the thick metal of the door, muttering curses under your breath.
“Please tell me Stark has some hidden exit in here somewhere?” you sigh.
“I’m going to kill Steve.”
When Bucky’s speaks his first words since you got locked in the gym together you spin to face him, eyes hard.
“Get in line Barnes!”
“Hey, look at that kids, you’re agreeing already!” Steve’s voice rings out from down the hall.
With that last remark everything goes silent other than your frustrated huffs.
“Is this actually happening?” you whine. “Can’t you just break the door down?”
Bucky’s blue eyes stare blankly and you grow more agitated.
“Why the hell did he do this?”
You glare back in his direction, hands on your hips. “Because of your sunshine and rainbows attitude toward me!”
You spit out the words, letting them drip with sarcasm.
“MY attitude?” Bucky grits out as he sticks a finger in his chest. “Doll face. I’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to you.” That same finger spins to point at you now.
You face him fully and take a step closer.
“Grunts do not equal a greeting and barely answering questions and barely making conversation definitely does not show your gentlemanly side!”
Bucky opens his mouth to retort but you continue on. “And what about avoiding me all together!? What the fuck is that about?”
He runs his large hand through his hair and squeezes the back of his neck, setting his lips in a hard line.
“Fuck. Please tell me there’s still some of Thor’s mead in here,” he mutters.
“Why the hell would he leave alcohol in the gym?” you ask, your brows nearly hitting your hairline.
With a shrug Bucky starts moving about and searching under things. “He likes to ‘get drunk’” and he makes air quotes as he says it, “and then show us how he can still lift heavier weights.”
You can’t help the laughter that boils up and over but you quickly cover your mouth when Bucky gives you an unamused look.
“Here it is!” he chimes, seeming far too relieved.
You move toward him as you watch him take a swig from the bottle, the muscles in his neck shifting with every swallow.
“Save some for me,” you say quietly and hold out your hand.
He smirks.
“Careful doll. Too much of this and I’ll have to carry you out of here.”
As more of the mead circulates through your body you start to relax marginally, thoughts of killing Steve slowly fading.
Bucky has been sure to keep your consumption under control and other than feeling less murderous and calmer you’re lucid.
“So,” you muse. “It doesn’t look like Steve is coming back any time soon. And we’ve been quiet. No yelling or fighting.”
Bucky simply grunts in agreement.
“SEE!” you nearly shout. “That’s exactly what I mean. I say something and your answer is a grunt…WHAT. THE. FUCK!”
While waiting for his explanation you notice a slight pink flush to his cheeks and you find it hard not to throw him a triumphant smile.
Deciding to let him off the hook for now, you ask, “how long have you known your best friend is insane?”
To your surprise, Bucky laughs. A real laugh that has his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up.
You try not to stare too long but you find it difficult to look away.
“Are you drunk Barnes?”
His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth twitches with a boyish smile.
“You’re full of questions tonight doll. And for the record it takes a lot more than this to get me drunk,” he admits as his smile widens.
He shifts in his spot on the floor, his long legs now stretched out in front of him and you can’t help but focus on his thighs and the way his jeans pull tightly over the thick muscle.
“Who knew all we needed was a little alcohol to not fight.”
You chuckle and hold your hand out for the more.
He shakes his head no and places the bottle down on the floor before leaning forward.
“I don’t want to fight with you. Ever.”
At his admission, your expression hardens.
“Then why are you so….so… unfriendly?” you ask.
“Why are you always so sassy?” he shoots back. “Seems to me like you’re the one always looking for a fight.”
His answer makes you sigh.
“I don’t see you doing that to Barton or Steve…hell anyone else!” he adds.
He waits patiently, his eyes trained on you and his body straining forward.
With more nonchalance than you feel, you confess, “you’re kind of my type. And my dating track record sucks. So…you know…”
You motion to him. All of him. His long legs, broad shoulders, hard chest, sculpted arms and his perfectly handsome face.
Stunned, Bucky stares for a second too long and too fiercely.
Heat starts to tickle your skin as you feel your body react to his focused attention.
“Are you…” he starts, before clearing his throat. “Are you telling me that you’re attracted to me and that’s why you hate me?”
The tension is thick, stretching between you for many long seconds before you wrench your eyes away and look down at your hands.
“I don’t hate you.”
Your words are quiet and the next sentence that passes your lips is even softer. “I just have a hard time trusting men.”
When he doesn’t say anything you look up at him and see the hurt etched across his features.
“Are you sure it’s not just me you don’t trust?”
At his question, the realization of what he’s implying hits you and you immediately slide closer to him and reach your hands toward him.
“No Bucky. That’s not it at all. In fact I trust you with my life…just not necessarily my heart.”
When he continues to study you, his features softening, but doesn’t speak, you add. “It’s not your fault. Really.”
“I want to know why.”
“Why what?” you ask.
“Why you don’t trust men.”
His jaw is tight and his fists are clenched in his lap.
He’s clearly distraught over the fact that you’ve been hurt and you’re sure he’s thinking the worst. It melts you more and you want to reach out and trace the hard line of his jaw to reassure him.
“It’s not anything that bad. I’ve just been hurt. A lot. And not just in romantic relationships. Friendships too.”
He scowls. “In what ways?”
You shrug like it’s nothing.
“What is there to say? The first real relationship I was in ended when he found something better. He told me when we broke up, ‘why would I say with you when I can do better’.”
“That motherfucker,” Bucky fumes as he opens and closes his metal fist, the whirring metal sounds momentarily distracting you.
“Yeah. But that wasn’t the last. My boyfriend after that I found out was sleeping with my friend. Or I thought she was my friend.”
“Fucking hell. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
He stands slowly, visibly agitated.
“And we haven’t even gotten to my last boyfriend yet. Better sit back down.”
“I’m too fucking pissed off to sit,” he growls.
“Honestly, it’s more my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have dated him. He was just like the rest and when my friend sent me a video of the two of them fucking I was hardly surprised.”
You couldn’t look at Bucky anymore and you dropped your eyes.
“Guess I’m just not good enough to stick around for.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Doll.”
He sat down in front of you, forcing your attention back to him.
“Please don’t tell me you really believe that.”
You give him an exasperated look. “After being dumped three times you kind of start to believe it.”
Suddenly, he kicks at one of the weight machines, making the metal creak and bend then he falls to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.
The smell of him surrounds you and you have no where to look but into his eyes.
“These men,” and he spits out the last word. “Fuck that, they aren’t men. These pieces of shit have no idea what a gift you are and they don’t deserve you. They deserve a fucking beating.”
“Bucky.”
You squeeze his hands. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he counters. “Tell you the truth? Tell you that you’re gorgeous, sexy, smart, and kind.”
His eyes drop to your mouth and he licks his lips.
“Hardly kind,” you scoff. “Look how poorly I treated you.”
He reluctantly drags his eyes from your mouth and determination hardens his gaze.
“Nah doll face. I get it now. And honestly, a lot of that is on me. I couldn’t understand why someone as perfect as you wanted anything to do with me. I put up my defensives the only way I know how.”
You whisper his name hoarsely and run your thumb along his jawline.
His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and he exhales.
Even if you wanted to you couldn’t stop the way your body moved closer to his and when he slides his hand up your arm and around the back of your neck your lips part in a gasp.
Just as you feel his warm breath tickle your skin the lock on the door turns and Steve calls your names.
You quickly pull away with wide eyes, shooting one last look at Bucky before you lift your eyes to Steve.
He stares between the two of you and then at the half empty bottle of mead.
“What…?”
“Nothing,” you and Bucky say at the same time.
Bucky jumps to his feet and holds his hand out for you.
You take it and let him pull you up and into his body. Your chest brushes his with your every breath and you’re right back where you were just seconds ago…under his spell.
It only takes a moment for your past hurt to flood back and wash away the desire you’re feeling and in the next breath you’re mumbling goodbyes and rushing off.
When Bucky finally finds you the next day the apology you’ve been wanting to give him spills out.
“I just want to say that I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.”
He takes a step closer to you, crowding you against the door of your room.
“I really appreciate that doll, but I should be the one apologizing to you. I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Thank you.”
It’s all you can manage to say with him so close to you.
You can feel your pulse jump and when you hear the moving metal plates in his arm you look down at his hands to see them clenched into fists at his sides.
“Bucky?” you ask.
“I’m having a really hard time not touching you,” he explains in a pained whisper.
“Oh,” you breathe out.
He closes the space between you and your back hits the door. He slowly lifts his hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb and then slowly sliding his fingers down to stroke your neck.
The gentle dominance in his touch sets you on fire and you lean into him.
“I’m scared of getting hurt Bucky.”
The words tumble out and you start to drop your gaze but he stops you with the press of his fingers under your chin.
His eyes harden and he doesn’t speak.
You whisper his name, your voice shaky.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just talking myself out of hunting every one of your exes down and skinning them alive.”
His voice grows with anger and you press a soft hand to his hard chest.
“They aren’t worth it.”
“You’re worth it.”
Taken aback by the intensity of his words you stare into his eyes, their blue color filled with longing and fierceness.
“Fuck doll. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are, do you? I can hardly catch my breath.”
Your hand shoots to your mouth and you quietly inhale, nibbling your bottom lip to stop the smile that wants to break out across your face.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks.
You drop your hand from your lips and reach for him. “No.”
He tilts his head and inches closer, his mouth lightly brushing yours.
Your fists clench the front of his Henley and your eyes close at the light press of his lips. You stay like that, trying to remember to breathe.
He pulls away only enough to stare at your mouth and then traces his thumb across your upper lip.
“What is it?” you ask with a worried tone.
His thumb falls to your lower lip and he gives it the same attention, savoring the softness.
“Why won’t you kiss me?”
He drops his hand from your lips and as his fingers fall they trace the outline of your neck before his hand wraps around the back of it and he brings you impossibly closer.
“I’m worried that once I start…” he breathes against your lips. “I won’t be able to stop.”
When he presses his lips to yours he groans low in the back of his throat, his hands desperate to get you closer.
The way you taste, the feel of your lips, your gasps and moans…he can’t stop.
He can’t stop.
@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @lizette50
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#enemies to lovers#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan#bucky
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Genshin men when you bring them home to meet the parents and they find out that your sister is the favored child of the family and she now has her eyes set on them.
Uhhh, I really like that idea.. It has so much angst potential... but am I gonna do it...?
Characters Included: Heizou; Thoma; Alhaitham
Content: gender neutral reader; reader has a sister; slight cursing; some jealousy themes; nothing else besides that
Word count: 2k words
Have fun reading!<3
Heizou
He is so fucking nervous!
He is good at hiding it, but you know him by now, you know how he gets and how he acts when he doesn't want others to know his true feelings, so you know and are aware of it
Heizou knows about your strained relationship with your family. Your parents having favoured your sister over you, no matter the circumstances
you did have contact with your family, but it was on a very low, unregular basis. Not that he minded that, though. It was your life, your decision. He's sure you wouldn't do that without having a good reason for it.
You had agreed on a nice, easy dinner at your parents house where they would get the chance to meet your boyfriend for the first time
upon arriving at the house where you spent your childhood, Heizou got more and more nervous. Somewhere along the way, he grabbed one of your hands, holding it tightly in his own.
you tried reassuring him, giving him a small smile as you held his hand, and it did help him a bit
soon, your mother answered the front door, followed by your father and introductions were made
Heizou held your hand throughout the entire thing, not daring to let go of you, but he seemed to relax more and more as the seconds went by
your parents noticed this as well, looking briefly at your joined hands, but chose not to say anything about it
you sat down on the table and a few minutes later, your sister arrived
she was acting entirely over the top with you, throwing herself at you and acting far too friendly. It made you somewhat uncomfortable, but you didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin the good mood that everyone has
for the first few minutes of dinner, everything seemed fine. Conversations were held, your parents asked Heizou some questions, nothing too bad
but then, your mom made some comment about you again, and it all went downhill from there for you
"You know, you're exactly the type of man we always wanted for our daughter. Are you sure you want to settle with (name)?"
then, your mother proceeded on to tell him every little thing about your sister. How she was working a much better job than you with better hours and more pay. How she was more beautiful than you. How she was just in general the better choice between the two of you
Heizou was dumbfounded by this behaviour and he now understood entirely why you had almost no contact with your family. This has been your entire life? Archons, he wanted to rip them a new one, for your own sake..
your mother was still rambling on, your sister just sitting there, smiling at Heizou, thinking that he was considering his options
everyone, including you, was surprised when he suddenly slammed his hands on the table, making all eyes fall on him
"With all due respect, Ma'am. I would rather die than do something so horrible to (Name). They are a wonderful partner, the best I could ever wish for. So, pardon us, but we are going to take our leave now."
with that, he grabbed your hand and you both walked out of the house, ignoring the calls of your family for you to come back and that they didn't mean it like that
secretly though, you were so glad and relieved. When your mother started saying stuff like that again, you just mentally accepted that this was it, yet again.
But Heizou surprised you and stood up for you against your own family. It made you feel so incredibly loved and cared for
that night, he hugged you closer to him than ever before, now reassuring you that you were his number one, that he loved you only and would do everything in this world, just to see you smile again...
Thoma
He's such a sweet partner, always caring about you and making sure that you're comfortable with him
Thoma likes to be a provider in a relationship. In the sense that he likes to cook for you, help you clean up, doing little things for you around the house. It's his way of saying "I love you"
Thoma will never push you into doing anything you don't want to, or making you open up to him
he's more than happy to take things slowly, earning your trust
and when you finally open up to him about whatever things you want to talk about, he's there for you, listening to everything you have to say without interrupting you
he also knows about the strained relationship with your family. He might not know all the details, but he knows enough to trust you in your decisions regarding the matter
he would never comment on it or make you do anything since it's not his place to judge or intrude on
with that being said, it just so happened that one day, while out shopping for ingredients, he ran into a certain someone
well, more like, a certain someone that ran into him. She profusely apologized for running into him and somehow got him tangled up into conversation
Thoma, being the nice person that he is, tried finding a way out of the conversation without coming across as rude. But, honestly, he just wanted to get home to you as soon as possible
Somehow, the conversation shifted and the topic of partners came up. Thoma said that he was happily taken right now, but she just kept pressing with her questions until your name slipped out his mouth
Thoma could clearly see how her eyes lit up at the mention of your name and he had a feeling that she would just bombard him with thousands more questions
so, he quickly made up an excuse and got out of there, walking home at a fast pace
once he arrived, he told you about the encounter he just had, which made you think. It all sounded strangely familiar to you, even his description of the person rang a bell somewhere in your mind
however, you didn't have much more time to dwell on those thoughts as a knock could be heard from the front door
exchainging glances, you went to answer the door, only to find your sister standing in front of you
eyes wide, you wondered how she found you here, but that question was quickly answered
"Oh, so you ARE his lover! God, now I'm so glad I followed him all the way back here!"
She threw herself in your arms, then quickly abandoned you and went inside your home. You were still so shocked and didn't realize this but when you came back to your senses, you quickly went inside again to the kitchen were you heard her voice from
Thoma was looking at you confused as well, but she just continued talking to him like nothing had happened and they were still out in the city where she ran into him
"...I mean, I'm so glad it was you! You're so handsome, and strong apparently for carrying all those bags back here! Say, why are you with (Name) anyway? Like, they have no redeeming qualities. You should look for more suitable partners, like me! I could give you so much more!"
She smiled at him like her little speech would be all it takes for Thoma to change his mind. The sad part was, you were expecting it to work as well, having dealt with exactly that your entire life, she always got what she wanted
"...Out.", Thoma said. It was the only thing he said, but his tone was so unusal from his normal self. It was cold and demanding, making your sister shiver in her place.
She quickly grabbed her stuff and left your home again, not saying another word
You looked after her for a second, but then in the next you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind, his face burrying itself in the crock of your neck
for a long time, he remained silent, before he spoke again. "Sorry. I'm so sorry you had to deal with that for so long."
you were perplexed at his words, but quickly hugged him back, silently thanking him for staying by your side
Alhaitham
To most people, Alhaitham comes off as a cold and calculated person without any emotions
most people will be surprised when they find out that he was indeed in a committed relationship
and they were even more surprised when they find out how sweet, loving and expressive you are
most would think that he would want a partner similar to him, closed off and not all that social. But you are the exact opposite to that
Not that Alhaitham was paying any mind to the opinions of others about him and his love life in the first place
To you, Alhaitham was the most ideal partner you could have hoped for
he was caring, attentive towards you, listened to you even if he didn't give that impression
his attention was always on you, you were in his thoughts when not with him. Just completely head over heels for you
However, he would not know about the strained relationship with your parents. He knew you weren't in much contact with them, and that's all he really needed or wanted to know. He never bothered you about it
But then, one day, you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents. You seemed unsure about the proposal, but in the end, he agreed to it nevertheless
the days before the event, you became a nervous mess. Alhaitham had no idea what was going on, but he tried to be there for you and support you
he did ask if you wanted to talk to him about anything, but you declined and he didn't push you anymore after that
then, the evening finally arrived where you were meeting up with your family at a local restaurant
when you arrived, your partents and sister were already there, waiting on the two of you. your mother spotted you first, waving to grab your attention
you then went over to sit with them
Introductions were a bit awkward at first, but after a few minutes, things seemed to settle down a bit as your parents engaged in conversation with you, trying to catch up on things
However, it quickly became clear to Alhaitham that your sister was always trying to upstage you with absolutely anything. You got a good job? Well, she got an even better one. You got paid so and so much? Well, wouldn't you look at that, her numbers were even higher than yours
at first, you tried to ignore it, but as always, your parents quickly began ignoring you again, instead congratulating your sister on how good she was doing for herself. It dampened your mood quite a bit, but you still wanted to give this a chance
that was, until your sister said something very specific. "Yeah. The only thing missing to top it all of would be an amazing boyfriend now. Say, Alhaitham. Why don't you dump my sibling and get with me instead?" She even winked at him after saying this
Immediately, your parents agreed to her proposal, looking expectantly at Alhaitham
said man only took a quick glance at everyone at the table, before throwing some money on the table, grabbing your hand and standing up, heading for the exit
"I listened to you disrespecting my partner for long enough. And you wonder why they hold no contact with you anymore. Really, I'm glad they got out of your grasp."
With that, you both left the restaurant. None of you spoke a word until you got to Alhaitham's house again, where he immediately pulled you into his arms as soon as you were inside
so for a while, you just stood there in his embrace while he silently reassured you that you had nothing to worry about
you were the only one to him and he would spend his entire life proving this to you if necessary..
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin headcanons#genshin scenarios#genshin impact scenarios#genshin x reader headcanons#genshin impact x reader headcanons#heizou x reader#heizou x you#heizou headcanons#genshin impact heizou#thoma x reader#thoma x you#thoma headcanons#genshin impact thoma#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham headcanons#genshin impact alhaitham#genshin impact hurt/comfort
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I can just imagine fujo neet reader practicing different sex position with rin to make sure she gets the proportions right.
✮ tags ; fem!reader, sexual tension, rin's pov, RIN IS KIND OF MEAN TO HER BUT HE WANTS HER SO BAD FDKJJS, reader is a fujoshi and bl mangaka, pre-relationship, they work together, part of a ficverse i haven't written yet Sorry, ONE JOKE ABOUT RIN WANTING TO OFF HIMSELF, SUPER SUGGESTIVE LOL 18+
✮ wc ; 3.5k (WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!)
✮ a/n ; i had to do this for my sanity. i promise i will write them a proper fic with them i promise.
You never text Rin.
Not really. Not first at least. It's a new... friendship. Kind of. Sort of. Most of your communication thus far has been through meetings and random in-person chance encounters. Outside of that, Rin will call you since it's faster. If you do "text", it's mostly through twitter DM's.
There's a discord server your fans run, and you pop in there often enough. He's had the invitation extended but declined unilaterally, since he'd rather not see himself fucking Isagi anymore than he already has in his short, miserable career.
It surprised him this morning, seeing your message flash across the top of his screen. Asking, specifically, for him to come over and help you with something related to the new manga you were writing. He had it in his right mind to decline, but after learning it wasn't a doujin for him, he semi-reluctantly agreed.
Rin doesn't know when exactly your relationship to him grew this...comfortable. Inviting him over to your house, begging him for favors, not wincing every time he talks to you. Rin isn't an extrovert but compared to you he's a social butterfly. And your aversion to people in general, Rin thought, would prevent you from doing anything more than squeak at him forever just like you did when he met you.
(Though nothing in his life has been normal since your arrival in it. He's not sure why you would remain unchanged when he certainly hasn't.)
He doesn't know what to feel when you ask him for a favor, and he doesn't know what force of nature compels him to go. If it's morbid curiosity or annoyance or something else even worse.
It was compelling enough to take the train all the way out to Machida - an hour long trip from his own place. His manager hounded him to take you something, so he has a bag of ginseng energy drinks and snacks with him as a gift. He took the bus with his mask on, and then walked all the way to your building.
Your apartment is tucked somewhere classically suburban - attached at the far end of a residential street and behind concrete support beams for a highway just overhead. Cherry blossom trees and other shades of white flowers grow around it in thick patches, making the entrance hard to find. Rin would've had trouble if you didn’t give him details on exactly where to go.
It's an older building, stone walls worn and grass-stained from age. At the gate are groups of old people talking amongst each other as they sort through recycling and trash. All visor hats and sunspots, they fawn over Rin for a long while before he goes in and interrogates him with questions. None of them know him, which is relieving. It quickly graduates to them asking who he's there to visit, if he has a girlfriend or not.
All of them ooh and aah when he mentions your name, say something about being relieved she's found a man so handsome and that Rin should marry you because even though you're a little strange you're a good girl. Rin does not have the time nor energy to correct them - only nods and bows his head and leaves.
On the elevator ride up to your floor, he can't help but think repeatedly that this isn't the kind of place he'd expect you to live. He thought it'd be out in the middle of nowhere, maybe in a damp and broken building.
But this is a nice place with nice people, vibrant and colorful. Totally opposite from what he considers your personality.
Suitable or not, Rin manages to make it to your floor without a hitch.
He finds you, then, as he'd expect. Down a long hall, behind an unassuming white door. When you open it, you're a mess. Your hair completely unkempt, face greasy, a wild look in your eyes and complete surprise in your expression as if you didn't invite him over. You do, however, manage to invite him in without stuttering or stumbling over your words foolishly like you did the first time you spoke to him.
Another surprise is how... clean your living room is. It's lived in but he was expecting more mess in there. Your bedroom is in a similar state, undoubtedly messy but not terrible. Your NEET tendencies finally end up showing when you drag Rin into your office where you draw your manga.
It's not dirty but it's cluttered. There's a pull out sofa on one wall, with a blanket and pillow littered about and pages upon pages of paper sheets with scrapped panels about the floor. One wall has a bunch of post-its with several notes in both English and Japanese, and another has tacked up pieces of art. Both yours and other peoples. He chooses to ignore the ones of him and Isagi, The walls themselves are cream colored and uninteresting and the wood floors are slippery. At the far end of the room is a spread of desks, a PC set-up and a professional looking tablet among various art supplies in stacked boxes.
It's this room you bring Rin into without explaining yourself at all, mumbling and muttering as you give him a place to sit and go back to your work for fifteen silent minutes.
When you're finally finished doing whatever the fuck you were doing, you turn yourself back towards Rin. Bluelight glasses fall down the bridge of your nose as you swivel around in your chair - your sweatpants half pulled up your leg with the other pulled down. You're wearing fuzzy socks with Naruto characters on them.
You stare at him, pulling your glasses off and rubbing your eyes - dark circles under them.
"Uhm," Your voice is clipped and thick with exhaustion. "You came."
Rin deadpans. "You asked me to come."
"I thought you'd say no."
He did too. He doesn't respond back. You chew your lips, already anxious and Rin resists the urge to say something about it.
"Okay. Uhm. Please don't get mad," You start with and then explain, looking away. Your hands pull your sleeves over your palms. "So. Like. For my new series, I'm finally getting to the sex scene but I've never drawn characters with an intense height difference like this. And I need... new reference photos.... and uhm," You rub your feet together on your chair where you sit "Well our height differences and size is the exact one my characters have. So."
Rin stares at you. "So?"
"SoIwaswonderingifyou'dtakereferenceimagesforsexpositionswithme,"
Rin feels his jaw lock. "Slower."
You frown and look away, tucking your chin with embarrassment. "I was uhm, like, wondering if you'd take... take the uhm, sex position reference photos with me, please."
"What?"
You clasp your hands together, immediately prostrating yourself by throwing yourself down the ground. He flinches back, wondering if you're gonna hold onto his leg next.
"Please, please help me. You're the exact height of my seme and you uhm have similar builds and he's doing the most of the legwork. The poses are a little bit hard but I want them to look good or Minami-san will eat me and I'm scared of her, please help me."
"Who is Minami-san?"
You sniffle, on the verge of tears just thinking about it. "My editor. She used to be my fan. She's scary. Please, Rin-kun, please."
"What the hell did you do before?"
You frown at him, big wet puppy-dog eyes.
"It was hard. Sometimes I'd pose with my big stuffed animals and make up the proportions. Oh and usually watched porn and stuff. Sometimes I'd get lucky with stockphotos. But I don’t get the angle exactly right unless I have good references."
Rin wonders if anything you have ever said has processed in your mind before saying it. He doubts it for some reason.
"So," Rin pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes the image of you humping your stuffed animals out of his head. "You're asking me to.. pose with you?"
You nod and chew your lip. "Please, I promise I'd never ask you for this if I wasn't s-scared of Minami-san! Please?"
"I should make you pay me for this," He sneers. You flinch back and close your eyes.
"I'm sorry." You whine wetly, but then open your eyes again anyway. "Please help me."
Rin doesn't know why he helps you. Maybe you're just too pathetic for him to ignore. Maybe he's a masochist. Maybe inhaling the same air as Bachira last week turned him stupid.
He pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Fine."
__
If Rin didn't believe you before when you told him you make your own references, he'd definitely believe you after you take him to your bedroom.
Your bed is in the center of your room, instead of being pushed against a wall. Large stuffed animals laid in one corner. On both sides of the room, are makeshift digital camera stands and remote-controlled lighting among another remote for said cameras. There's about 4-6 angles from what you explained to Rin, and a few adjustable lights. It's an elaborate set-up and takes the kind of dedication Rin can only imagine a hardcore fujoshi freak like yourself thinking up.
All of this to mostly draw porn of him and his rival. He tries not to think about it too hard because he thinks it's going to give him an aneurysm. Rin sits at the edge of your bed as you adjust each of the cameras individually.
"What do you do if it's not on a bed?"
You flinch like you aren't expecting him to talk. "Uhm. I either simulate as best I can o-or move my things and bed around. It's why I moved my desk to my office."
Rin stares at you. "You take it seriously."
You nod meekly. "Producing high-quality doujin is what made me money, so I have to work hard. Being poor is tough."
If Rin didn't find you so unbearable he might find that awe-inspiring in his own fucked up way.
"Okay. Everything is set-up. Now for the poses," You say, suddenly sparking back to life. Rin sits and watches. "They're having sex on a public beach so the bed and the way the seme sort of sinks into the sand will be good... I think the bridge one is the one we'll do first."
"The bridge?"
You nod, talking in short sentences. But Rin can tell this is where you're comfortable, doing things for this... hobby. Your usual constant embarrassment and shame seem to disappear when it comes to it. It's fascinating like a car crash. "Uhm. You have to stand on your knees and then, I'll lay on my back and arch my back up to meet your... y'know. It'll emphasize the height difference."
Rin stares at you agape. You take the remote control for your cameras in your hands and look at him expectantly.
Rin doesn't know whats wrong with him. Why the hell did he agree to this?
"Do you want me to take my jacket off?"
You nod, surprised. He shrugs the thing off of his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor.
Rin, per your instruction, gets into the position in the middle of the bed. He stands on his knees waiting for you. You join him a minute after, squinting at your phone screen beforehand. He isn't sure what he's expecting as a result of your ask, but he sure is shocked when he finds you placing your feet flat on the bed next to his knees and pushing yourself up for your crotch to meet his.
He knows that’s what you said but your shamelessness proves to be… shocking.
He tries not to let it show. His jaw ticks. His face feels warm but his expression remains neutral all the same. You shift and adjust and don't seem concerned at all - like it doesn't occur to you that this is in any way socially unacceptable. Or it's unfathomable Rin would take advantage of this. That this is weird, or could be interpreted in less than innocent ways. Rin knows you're so out of touch that it probably isn't. That this is, to you, just considered a favor which is partially why he even agrees.
But you're mid-brushing up against his bulge. The angle of your back forms a triangle, your arms laid flat at your sides as you squirm and push. And your expression shifts, deep in thought.
"Uhm, like, would you mind p-putting your hands on my hips? Kind of squeezing tight like it's," You flush this time, but Rin harbors doubt it's about him. "Like it feels good I guess? Like hard, and stuff so you can see the indent."
He's so astonished, he does it on autopilot. Neutral and even. He lets his hands grab your hips and holds tight just as you ask. Your long, loose sweatshirt falls down revealing the soft skin of your tummy. He can see the tops of your underwear, the thin cotton kind that come in 6-packs with a single bow in the middle in a grey color.
You don't seem to care about it. Rin shouldn't either, but his body does seem to care. His brain does. Something is happening in his gut. Anger maybe. Some cheap, frustrated desire to make fun of you.
Instead the words he's been wanting to ask since you proposed this tumble out of his mouth. He stares at you.
"Is this the first time someone's done this with you?"
You jump with a start, but remain in position. You take the pictures first, six clicks in a row before answering.
"H-huh? Why-why are you asking that?"
He doesn't know. Really. And he knows how it sounds. Rin doesn't say anything and you fold under the immense pressure of his gaze.
"S-stop staring," You say, and take a few more pictures, lowering your back just a little but still staying up right. "And no. No one tall enough or with the right physique."
There is another gnawing question, another burning curiosity. He makes his voice as even and unaffected and apathetic as he can. As mean as possible.
"Have you ever even had sex?"
Your eyes blow wide, but you seem to fall for the persona of apathy, curious boredom and cruelty. Worse, you seem a little used to it. You squirm this time and Rin holds you firmly in place. Your voice is small.
"Uhm, like, once I guess. I-it was with a guy, I didn't really date him but he seemed interested in me and I didn't think I'd ever have the opportunity again s-so I did it and I didn't uhm, it wasn't very good or anything." You reply, and he can feel your toes curl in your socks next to him and his brain feels like it'll melt from out of his ears. "Sorry, I don't-don't think you care about that, just uhm, felt like I should explain."
"Yeah," Rin feels dizzy. "Do you need another pose?"
You blink and then nod. "Yeah! Another one kind of like this, but with the legs like uhm, on your chest and my feet closer to your head. With you leaned back a little. Does that make sense? The butterfly position, I think."
Rin swallows something at the back of throat.
He nods, pulling you into position so easily he can heard you gasp. Your legs straighten against his clothed chest, and your sweatshirt falls far enough to let him see your bra. A fabric sports kind, a little worn - just the logo visible. He doesn't say anything about it, your feet resting near his neck. You make a little soft noise.
"This feels a little difficult to be in. Poor uke. Sorry if this one is kind of weird, but can you put your hands, I dunno, on my ass, I guess? I know that's probably too much but I think it'll be a good detail, so please? I'll pay you"
Rin stares at you, teeth gritting so hard he feels the back of his skull throb. "Fine."
Rin, per your request, puts his hands on your ass. It's easy enough, and he doesn't hold too tight. But it's too intimate, too stupidly fucking intimate, and he can feel you. You're hardly paying attention, caught up in your own head with whatever else. Rin is paying too much attention. Like how your sweatpants aren't thick enough to cover the outline of your frumpy cotton panties and how your soft all over. He's going to kill someone. Maybe himself.
Six more clicks and a little noise of satisfaction.
"Okay!!! I think these will turn out so great, and I can use them later too. Just one more. I have a lot of refs for this position, but uhm - I want to see if I can get the proportions correct, so if you'd please lay down," You tell him with such genuine excitement he can't find it in himself to say anything horribly cruel. "I'll be doing most of the work this time. I just-just need to see how uke will compare..."
You mutter something to yourself as Rin lets you down and lays himself down on your bed. You sit next to him for a long while, squinting at your phone. Rin stares at you as you. Wonders if he's gone completely insane, and tries to ignore the doom of the impending hard-on cozying itself in his pants.
Unceremoniously, you find yourself perching over Rin's lap. Not bothering to give him any pretense, it's the one thing about today that's really getting him.
"Oh, I need my hands for this," You give him the remote and stare down at him wide-eyed, over his lap. This has to be hell. "Could you take the photos this time?"
He closes his eyes and counts to ten and wonders if a concussion has made him insane. "Hm."
You brighten and Rin feels his chest go tight. "Thanks!"
Rin just nods, his mouth drying as you start to move and pose. A picture with your hands next to his head, and anothe r where you're sat up - your hands at your sides. Rin obediently takes pictures when you ask, his entire body tensing every single time you move.
"Okay, last one," You say. This time, you put your hands on his chest. Just the one. You must have something specific in your head that you're wanting to recreate. You bend down close, looking down at him as you do - your other hand clenched.
Rin looks up at you. He should not be thinking about you in any way. He's looking at the way your lips curve and plump and at your bare skin and your dark circles and your stupid licensed anime hoodie. He just gapes at you in confusion and mystique. He's around so many weirdos. It's not like there's anything special about you. You’re just another freak who makes porn of him. Plenty of people do that.
A loser and an idiot with no sense of self-preservation. There's nothing special about this, but Rin hasn’t been able to convince himself of that.
You stare down at him.
"Take a picture?"
Rin looks at you. Studies your expression. You seem like you're thinking. It's the only oppurtunity he has to pry.
"Did you want to ask something?" He says first. “You’re not hard to read.”
You startle, then nod. Your hand is on his chest. It's warm, and smaller than his.
"Oh, I-I guess I was wondering about what you asked me earlier. And uhm, like, I don't know. If you ever did anything. Your relationships aren't in the media and fans speculate but," You fall flat on your words. "I guess I was just curious."
Rin hates this question. It's why he never answers it. Why he hates being called a hearthrob, always too shallow and too personal for his taste.
"Nothing long term or serious. It was most for physical relief." Rin says, almost on autopilot. “Not that’d you know what that’s like.”
Your eyes widen. Rin feels his hands twitch, watching your expression finally grown conscious of him. Lust spreads through you like honey and Rin can see it in how you look. You squirm in his lap. He's not usually so aggressive, not usually one to care about sex in any important way. Not one to brag about something so unbelievably inane and trivial.
But it's bothering him, just how much he's fighting the urge to pin you down and fuck you. You of all people. It's not like him. Rough sex is whatever, but it's bothering him how little any of it seems to register in your head anymore like it once did. You could barely breathe the first time you met.
He doesn't know why he cares that you don’t anymore. He doesn’t give a shit about anything related to you
But the thought nothing seems to bother you anymore bothers him.
"Oh... I see. That's uhm, interesting. I b-bet you have a lot more experience than me. Maybe it'd be a good thing to keep you around for that kind of refernce too," You joke.
Rin lets his hand slip up to your hips without asking, not bothering to hide it anymore. His head feels with nothing but stupid useless thoughts. Thoughts of fucking you in your old, worn clothes and stained shirts and comfortable cotton underwear. Thoughts of your hands clutching at his shoulder all weepy with desire and need and stupidity - your big wide eyes bleary and sensitive. It's cruel how relentlessly he thinks about taking advantage of all your differences. Of how unathletic and awkward and unused to everything you are.
It's horrible just how much he's staving off his own arousal about it. Maybe you're strange habits are infecting him, making him strange too strange. All Rin can think about uselessly is how easily he could put you in your place. Fix you in some strange way. You’d be his to fix and you’d cry and weep and want to run away. Rin wouldn’t let you, keep you pinned and caged like an animal.
His throat feels tight. What is fucking wrong with him today?
Is he that pent up? He stares at you, and gets some passing feeling that there is more to it than that. He closes his eyes.
"Whatever," He says, letting go. You don't seem to notice it again, how thick his voice is getting "Are you almost done?"
You nod and smile. "Yes. Thank you."
Rin feels his heart tug and seethes. “You're welcome."
#return to sender#writing tag#fujoverse#rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#bllk x reader#bluelock x reader#THIS IS KIND OF COOKING ME TO DEATRH IM?
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