#its tiny rn... but it will grow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vagabond-umlaut · 17 days

Text

you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry

only the sun has come this close, only the sun

gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^

fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

you are clingy.

always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.

yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—

and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.

just how he likes it.

very much how he adores you.

affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.

he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.

he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—

"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.

your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.

gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.

he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.

"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"

another beat passes.

and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.

"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"

the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—

not that he really minds that, though.

for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.

it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.

his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.

thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"

"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!

he pinches your cheek lightly.

"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.

the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—

"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.

"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."

it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.

he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—

the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.

he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—

but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.

just like you and him.

contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.

he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.

stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.

"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"

"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.

"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"

gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.

but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.

he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.

the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"

"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"

your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.

you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.

"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"

"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—

but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"

"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.

and his insides begin to twist—

one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.

you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"

"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"

you're not okay.

you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—

you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.

you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.

feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.

brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.

"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"

"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??

sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.

and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??

"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.

but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.

"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"

and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—

not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.

and will always stay yours—

"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"

gojo pauses.

and wonders.

is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?

he hopes there is.

your husband really, seriously hopes there is—

'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.

this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰

and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

2K notes · View notes

only-drink-to-get-drunk · 1 year

Text

I HAVE IT.

I HAVE MY LAPTOP.

#finally #also im visiting my art teacher rn and oh my gods #i love her studio so much #there are so many old books and paintings and newspapers and artworks and wood carved things and its so amazing #and theres a table full of tiny things shes collected #i aspire to have this when i grow up #i will #its lovely and amazing and everything i want

1 note · View note

tomorrcwz · 2 months

Text

✰ LATE NIGHT'S DESIRE , O. PIASTRI

[ preview ] working as a mclaren strategist for years, the newest driver is the perfect candidate to satisfy your hunger — he does make it easy for you, coming to your door in the middle of the night.

[ tw ] smut, unprotected sex, dom!fem!reader, teeny tiny little bit of corruption kink, spit kink, inappropriate work relationship | gif by @princemick

[ a/n ] idk what this is but yeah slay or whatever bruh. Might write more smut about oscar, I'm really fixed on him rn + ITS MELBOURNE GP and in honor of that i had to write a little something

. minors do not read | masterlist .

The sight of the quiet, charmingly awkward Oscar makes your blood pump fastly though your veins as the desire within you grows. You know its wrong, having inappropriate thoughts about a co-worker, one that isn't as secure as you are on the team but you can't help yourself with it; the need to fuck whoever is handsome and new is strong enough to make you black out rules.

First you had Lando — he was eager to fuck you as you pleased, then you had to have Daniel, who mind you, wasn't as easy to get in your bed and he also wasn't to corrupt as he was the one to mirror your actions and pull some stuff. Sadly it ended rather fast with him getting a girlfriend. But you still have Lando every other month as the boy can't keep a girl around, making him fall regularly in your bed or wherever you are to fuck. It's not that fun anymore, quiet bland. The routine is always the same — first he'll finger you to get you wet enough and then you push him to whatever surface and take his cock. Afterwards you clean yourself, Lando already out of the door.

So, that brings you to Oscar.

He's fresh blood, newly single, and dear lord in heaven over the winter break he put on a lot more muscles, looking ridiculous strong, causing your pussy to flutter whenever you see him. You flirt with him quite often and you do see his brown eyes cloud with lust, but you want to take your time. There's no need to rush.

But the day comes.

Its Sunday night, hours after the race and celebrations of Oscar taking P3, when you hear knocks on the door of your hotel room. Reaching for your phone, the homescreen only shows a few messages from people you're currently not interested in responding. No Lando. Normally, he'd shot a text beforehand, so you're not sure of who is standing opposite the wooden door.

Breathing in, you swing your bare legs off the bed and walk across the room, opening the door. The sight greeting you leaves your mouth agape — Oscar's wearing an maroon satin shirt, tucked into a pair of black slacks. On his thick fingers are two rings which you've never seen him wear but it suits him. He looks hot, even more so with his hair all toulouse and a curl glued to his forehead. It's an indicator that he is influenced by Lewis and Guanyu, both very fashionable drivers on the grid, and you could kiss them right now because Oscar has never looked this hot. He is but this is otherworldly.

"Everything alright, Oscar?", you ask, crossing your arms under your breasts and unintentionally pushing them up, presenting the man with your more than welcoming cleavage.

He can't help himself; his focus rests on the soft curves of your tits, the skin glistening under a sweat film the heat of middle east brings.

Clearing his throat, the Mclaren driver, sends you a dashing smile. "Yes, actually I've missed you at the celebration and was wondering if you—", he stops himself, cheeks flaming hotly.

"If I want?"

You can see the thoughts running around faster than the car on the track earlier. Must be hard to grasp whatever plagues his mind.

"I was wondering if you'd celebrate with me", he whispers, somewhat bashful which is endearing.

"Sure, let me throw on something else to wear, can't go out in this", you say, hands moving across your body to clarify your point; due to the heat you're only wearing some boxers and a flimsy babydoll top. Oscar gazes at you, shaking his head. "No, no, I mean celebrate in, you know . .", he stumbles over the words, blush now burning his ears too.

Oh. Oh.

To end his misery, you catch his wrists to pull him inside before hitting the door close with your foot and shove him against it.

For the first time you kiss him, all teeth and tongue, and its different from what you have imagined — his hands are rougher, caressing your lower back, creeping under the top to feel the warm skin of yours. Grabbing you by the hips, he sloths his dick against your stomach and grinds. He doesn't feel small, maybe even bigger than his teammate. In your imagination, he was softer yet he let you guide him to bed exactly like dream-oscar did and falls backwards on top of the cream coloured sheets, breath hitching in anticipation.

"Remove your clothes, baby."

You reach for the hem of your top as you command him, letting him stare at your tits while he steps out of his bottoms and throws the shirt in a corner. His milky smooth skin's glowing in the dim lighting a street lamp spends, and you see a map of freckles on his chest as well as a happy tail lending down to his beautiful cock.

Spitting in your hands, slander finger gently touch his length, causing Oscar's head to fall back, lips wide agape and you take the opportunity to spit in his mouth. "Shallow, Osc, be a good boy f'me, yeah?", you coe, hot breath fawning the auricle. He does, groaning lowly but its getting louder when you bring your legs on either side of his lap, left hand grabbing his cock and coating it in your wetness before probing the fat mushroom tip at your pussy, gliding down till every inch is inside you.

The feeling of his cock might aswell change everything; he's the biggest you've ever taken, scraping and burning you inner spongy walls deliciously as he kisses your cervix.

Fuck Lando, he doesn't have anything on Oscar.

"M so full, you're filling me up so good, baby", the praise let the man smile in a haze, far lost in how good you ride him. Your wet hole holds his grith snuggly as you fuck yourself on his cream coated length — his eyes roll back in pleasure at the sight of a white ring forming on the base of his dick, something he has never seen before, and it spurrs him on to grind his hips into yours, getting a worish wail out of you.

You fuck him till his abdomen thighten and he pumps you full of cum, that is oozing out of your desperately moving body, chasing your own orgasm. Oscar leans in, bitting on your pulse point. Then you fall over the edge, legs shaking as you still on top of him.

After catching your breath, you charmingly smirk at him before he grinds up in your fluttering hole — he's already getting hard again.

#f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri #f1 fanfic #f1

611 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

I sent a request a while back before I knew about you closing your request. (Sorry about that.) But maybe apocalypse Remus and reader finally reuniting with the others? Or dealing with the full moon approach while separated from the pack and all the reader wants to do is help, but Remus doesn't want to hurt her? Or maybe they get attacked again, and they get away just fine, but the reader gets hurt in the process or something. Idk something angsty just sounds so good rn 😅

Thank you for requesting love, sorry for the wait!

cw: blood

apocalypse au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You’re off gathering more twigs to feed the fire when you hear a series of explosions. Your head snaps in that direction, time seeming to stop with your heart. In the next second you’re dropping the kindling, sprinting back for the campsite, because if someone’s found Remus, if they’ve gotten through his protections—

You only make it a few steps before you see he’s already racing toward you, barely glancing behind him to shoot a nonverbal spell at the three—no, four, five—bounty hunters chasing after him. You scramble for your wand to help, knocking a couple off his heels before Remus barrels into you. He apparates without hesitating, and a scream tears from your throat, pain searing through your side.

You and Remus grip each other tightly, rolling to the ground. The place where you’ve landed is quiet, but you can hardly tell with the desperate ringing in your ears and the sound of your own panting breaths. Remus rolls off you, inadvertently putting pressure on the blazing pain in your side. You cry out and put your hands over the spot, shielding it from further harm.

“Fuck.” He’s panting too, shoving his wand in the waistband of his jeans with shaking hands. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, I—are you hurt?”

Your brain is all static, speech beyond you, but in a breath there are hands covering yours, pulling at the edge of your shirt. Your shirt, sticky with blood. You moan.

“You have to let me see,” Remus is saying, fighting to get your hands away from the wound. “I can’t help if I can’t see it.”

Your shirt sticks and clings to you as he peels it off, the cool air somehow making everything worse. Remus curses proficiently. His touch vanishes. It’s a relief, and also not. You want to go curl up somewhere by yourself until this hurt goes away, and also you don’t want him to leave you.

He’s back a second later, taking your wrists in a gentle but firm grip to get them away from your side. You hadn’t realized you’d grabbed it again.

“You’re okay,” he promises swiftly, and you must really trust him, because you almost believe him despite the leaves growing slick with blood beneath you. “You’re going to be fine. Sorry, this is going to sting.”

You don’t quite process the words before fire sears your side. You choke on a sob, but the pain only spreads, moving inward like it’s eating you away to nothing. Remus shushes you, tiny, helpless placations rushing from between his lips.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. I’ve got you. Almost done now.”

When the burning ebbs, you’re honestly not sure whether this new feeling is only the lesser pain you’d felt before whatever Remus had done to you. But a few ticks go by, and the static in your head fades. You can hear yourself breathing. The breeze rustling through trees. You touch your side tentatively, and it’s whole.

Remus’ scarred hand skims it as though making sure of the same thing. You look at him, tears still clumped in your lashes, and he retracts his hand, glancing down to screw the cap back on the bottle.

“What is that?” Your voice scrapes on its way out. You clear your throat embarrassedly.

Remus looks over like he isn’t sure you’re talking to him. “This?” You nod. “Essence of dittany. There’s some powdered silver in it, but that doesn’t tamper with the healing.”

You nod again, swallowing. Neither of you feel the need to discuss why he has the potion so readily available. Remus turns away from you, burying it back in his bag. You realize for the first time that he even has it, must have managed to grab it before the bounty hunters go too close. You’re both lucky he’s so quick on his feet.

“Thank you,” you say, sitting up, “and, uh, sorry for…making it so difficult.”

Remus softens. He kneels beside you again, holding a different bottle in his lap as he draws a careful finger under your lashes, catching the tears hanging there. “I’m sorry for splinching you. I should have warned you we were going to apparate.”

“You were under duress. I think you can be excused some hasty decision-making.”

“You splinched away nearly half your middle,” he says, a bit of teasing in his voice. “I think you can be excused a bit of hysteria.” You can’t tear your gaze away from his amber eyes, and he doesn’t shy from it. “You came close to losing a few ribs. I don’t know what we would’ve done then.”

“You would’ve fixed it,” you say certainly, and Remus drops his stare, a bashful smile lifting one corner of his mouth as he unscrews the bottle he’d pulled out of the pack.

“Maybe,” he allows. “Here, have a few sips of this.”

You sniff at it tentatively.

“Don’t smell, just drink.”

You do. Then you gag, coughing. “Ugh, what is it?”

“Blood-Replenishing Potion. Have just a little bit more,” he instructs, watching while you do before taking the bottle back and twisting on the cap. “You really scared me, bleeding all over the place like that.”

“Sorry.”

He hums as he stores the bottle back in the bag, eyes going somewhere foggy and faraway. It may be the new familiarity of this particular look, but you know instantly what he’s thinking of: the other people he’s terrified for, who might not be faring so well without his help and ample medical supplies.

“How do you think they’ve managed to find us twice in under a week?” he asks, quiet enough that you wonder if he’s even talking to you.

“They didn’t.” You match his tone, soft and careful. “Those were bounty hunters, not death eaters.”

Remus grunts. “Same thing, under this government.”

“Those guys found us by chance,” you say with certainty you don’t feel. “James and Sirius have always had better luck than that. And they’re smart. If anyone stumbled upon them, they’d get away, too.”

His throat bobs, but he nods. “You’re right. They’re perfectly competent on their own, I just…I don’t like the idea of them out there without us to help.”

“Me neither,” you admit at a murmur.

Remus only looks into the leaves, gaze still distant. You give him the time he needs to collect himself, surveying the area you’ve landed in. It’s not vastly different from the forest you’d been in before, but some of the trees look different and when you listen you can hear a few birdsongs that aren’t the ones you’ve lived among for the past few days. The sun is just starting to dip into the horizon. It lights everything in a soft, glowy orange. You’ll need to gather kindling again if you’re going to have a fire, but for now you just take a breath. The sunlight tangles in Remus’ hair, making his skin look buttery smooth and romanticizing his expression into one of contemplation rather than hauntedness. Your heart throbs, a warm sort of ache. You wonder if he can fix that, too.

“I know it’s not the same,” you say quietly, embarrassedly, “but at least for now, we have each other.”

Remus smiles. It’s small and weary, but a smile nonetheless. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m glad for it.”

221 notes · View notes

hyperactively-me · 5 months

Note

I know its super serious in kastron rn but imagine graves gifted reader her own puppy to train I know it would be hilarious 😂

oh my god i am obsessed with this!!!!!! i recently just got an 8 week old mini goldendoodle puppy so now we're like twins 😁 also, this won't fall in chronological order with the list i have going on, so this will be placed in an "extras" category! this new category will most likely be requests and/or works that i can't really find a good place to put them in chronological order!

king!ghost x reader -- puppy love ** extras

warnings: none

"So... what do you think, your majesty?"

You look at the small English springer spaniel puppy cradled in Graves' arms.

You can't help but smile at the sight of the adorable puppy nestled in Graves' arms. Its eyes, wide and curious, meet yours, and a tiny tail wags with boundless energy.

"Oh my gosh, she's so cute," you gush, reaching out to gently stroke the puppy's soft fur. "But, what's the occasion?"

"She wasn't responding well to the training for hunting, but I reckon she would have a better time inside the castle." With a shrug, he explains further, "But I also figured you could use a bit of company, your majesty. A loyal companion, perhaps."

Missing the way he looks at you smugly, you dote on the little spaniel.

"Hi baby," you coo softly, coming closer to pet the dog. She licks your fingers hesitantly, nuzzling into the palm of your hand.

"See? She loves ya already. Not surprised in the slightest."

You laugh awkwardly at that comment, but decide to brush it off. Graves has always been a bit peculiar to you, but now that he's giving you a puppy, you can't help but brush past the fact. You exchange a glance with Graves, his eyes holding a hint of something you can't quite place.

"Well, I appreciate the gesture, Graves. She's adorable," you say, smiling genuinely.

Graves chuckles, his eyes flickering with amusement. "Just a gesture of goodwill. Not a problem at all."

"Can I hold her?" you ask, looking up at his eyes.

"Why, of course," he says, flashing you a million-dollar smile. He lifts the puppy into your hold, making sure she's settled in your arms comfortably. As you cradle the little spaniel in your arms, you can't deny the growing joy in your chest. The puppy nuzzles against you, innocent and sweet.

"She's got a calm demeanor, perfect for keeping you company," Graves remarks, watching the interaction with an amused glint in his eye.

You chuckle, enjoying the warmth radiating from the small bundle in your arms. "Thank you, Graves. It's a thoughtful gift."

"Anything for you, your majesty," he says, inclining his head slightly. "Now, I'll leave you to get acquainted with her. I'm sure she'll keep you company well. Don't hesitate to reach out to me with any questions. I am the expert, after all."

You give him a lopsided smile, "Yup, noted. Thank you again."

Graves bows respectfully and turns to leave, leaving you alone with the puppy. As he walks away, you catch a shadow of a smirk on his face, but you shake off your apprehension, attributing it to his usual nature.

Excitement bubbles within you as you go to show Simon your new spaniel puppy in your arms. The joy radiates from your face as you rush to find Simon, eager to share the news.

Entering his private study, you find Simon engrossed in a letter, his brow furrowed in concentration. You clear your throat, and Simon looks up, his gaze meeting yours. Then his eyes trail to the puppy resting in your arms.

You can't contain your enthusiasm. "Graves got me a puppy! Look at her, Si, isn't she so cute?"

Your eyes are sparkling as you present the adorable little bundle of fur to Simon, hoping he shares in your excitement. The puppy wiggles in your arms, tiny tail wagging energetically.

Simon's gaze flickers from the puppy to you, a mixture of surprise and something you can't quite place crossing his features. "A puppy? Why?"

"He thought I could use some company," you explain, your excitement undiminished.

"Use some company—? But you have me?" Simon's reaction is less than enthusiastic.

You chuckle at Simon's slightly grumpy response. "Of course, I have you. But Graves thought a puppy would be a nice addition to the castle. And look at her, isn't she so sweet?"

"Graves, huh?" he mutters, a hint of grumble in his voice. How he wishes he thought of giving you a dog before Graves did.

You raise an eyebrow at his tone. "What's wrong? He's just being thoughtful."

Simon leans back, crossing his arms. "I dunno. He's always got something up his sleeve. He's a valuable member of staff here, I'll give him that. But he's just a bit... slinky."

You understand Simon's skepticism, given the tension that has always existed between him and Graves. You try to reassure him, "I know, but Simon, it's just a puppy. Look at her, she's harmless and absolutely adorable."

Simon's eyes remain fixed on the puppy, his expression still guarded. "I dunno about this, love. What's the real reason Graves gave you a puppy, hm?"

You sigh, realizing Simon is probably just jealous. "Si, he said the puppy wasn't responding well to hunting training, and he thought she'd be happier in the castle."

Simon grumbles under his breath, but he relents a bit. "Fine, but keep an eye on that dog." And I'll keep an eye on Graves, is what he wants to say, but he bites his tongue.

You nod, understanding Simon's concerns, and decide to change the subject. "Oh my god, isn't she the cutest thing?"

Simon rolls his eyes, but there's a warmth in them as he looks at the playful antics of the little spaniel. "Fine, she's cute."

He stands up from his desk as you circle around to him. Simon's expression softens, and he reaches out to gently pat the puppy's head. The puppy, sensing his mixed emotions, snuggles against Simon's hand, as if trying to win him over.

"Do you want to hold her?" You hold the puppy closer to Simon, who can't resist the charm of the tiny spaniel.

Simon hesitates for a moment, then nods. "Yeah, alright."

As you carefully transfer her into Simon's arms, you can't help but coo over how cute they both look. The puppy seems to work her magic on Simon, melting away his reservations, at least for the moment.

The small spaniel squirms a bit in Simon's arms, but soon settles, gazing up at him with trusting eyes. Simon, despite his initial resistance, finds himself chuckling as the puppy licks his fingers with enthusiasm. You notice the way his eyes soften, crinkling in the corners as he smiles.

"Such a sweet girl," he murmurs at the puppy, stroking her head gently.

"You should see yourself right now," you squeal giddily, the sight of a little puppy in your husband's arms making you melt.

Simon chuckles, "Yeah, she'll fit in here. Gonna train her well. Maybe she can be something like a guard dog."

. . .

A few weeks have passed, and training Stella has been nothing short of rewarding.

She's been such a good dog, already living up to Simon's expectations. He's such a softie with the dog, and you love to tease him about it.

Graves had shown up one day, inquiring about your puppy and how she's been getting along.

"Stella's been listening to my commands more easily these days," you say, kneeling on the floor as you pet Stella.

Graves nods thoughtfully, hands clasped behind his back as he observes Stella. Simon stands right behind you, arms crossed over his chest as he sizes up Graves.

"Indeed," Graves responds, his gaze focused on Stella. "She seems to be adapting well, better than she would have been in the fields. A fine addition, wouldn't you say, your majesty?" He looks up expectantly at Simon.

Simon grumbles a bit, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. "Yes, I do have to say she's quite lovely."

You continue rubbing Stella's belly, keenly aware of how Simon stands rigid beside you.

"So, because you're here, Graves, any tips on training? Or have I handled it quite well myself?" Simon asks, pride laced in his voice.

Graves, unfazed, chuckles. "Well, I'm always here for advice, your majesty. But it seems you've got everything under control."

Simon smirks, feeling a small victory. "That's what I thought."

You roll your eyes at Simon's response, hitting him in the ankle with your fist to get him to knock it off.

Graves smoothly shifts the conversation. "Training a dog is a team effort, wouldn't you agree, your majesty?"

Simon raises an eyebrow, catching the nuance in Graves' words. "Indeed, a team effort. We all contribute."

"Absolutely," you chime in, giving Simon and then Graves a pointed look. "And Stella is thriving with both of your contributions."

Simon scoffs under his breath, but doesn't say anything further.

Standing, you pick up Stella, holding her close to your chest.

"Thank you again for coming to check up on her, Graves. I appreciate it."

Graves offers a gracious nod. "It's my pleasure, your majesty. Stella is in good hands, I can see that."

Simon, still slightly on edge, adds, "And we're quite capable of taking care of her ourselves."

Graves raises an eyebrow, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Of course, your majesty. I never doubted that for a moment."

You shoot Simon a look, petting Stella.

Graves clears his throat. "In that case, I'll be on my way. But do let me know if you ever need any assistance, your majesties."

As Graves exits the room, you turn to Simon with an amused smile. "You know he's just messing with you, right?"

Simon grumbles, "I know, but he always has to have the last word."

You shake your head, handing Stella to Simon. She latches onto him, cuddling into his muscled arms.

"I still don't think I've ever seen anything cuter in my whole life," you say, your gaze fixated on Simon holding Stella.

"Get the court painter, it'll last longer."

"Ah, such a good idea Si! How does Thursday sound?"

"What? No—"

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

238 notes · View notes

cosmicallyavg · 2 years

Text

has anyone else ever stopped to think how the tardis feels when doctors and companions leave because its ruining me rn

like imagine you're this sentient spaceship and you have an unbreakable bond with a time lord who stole you and ran away. and how sad it must be watching them die and be reborn over and over again. feeling them die and be reborn over and over again. oftentimes destroying your very being in the process. you've been together for thousands of years, possibly more, and you've gone on nearly every adventure together.

they know you inside and out (literally) and while they are a quite careless owner, they make up for it with the constant repairs when you get damaged or need general maintenance. its how they show you they care, because you know they do. you have a telepathic connection with them, after all.

you take them wherever they need to go, even if its not where they want to go. its fun to show off every now and then and make it look like they don't know how to pilot you. but all of time and space, so many distress signals, you hear planets and ships and people calling out for help. your time lord isn't like the others, they like to help. you take them to those people so they can help.

and oh, the people. your time lord likes to pick up strays along the way - human beings more often than not. you don't particularly like the idea, the humans always have sad endings, and you don't like to see - to feel - your time lord experience that sadness over and over again. but they continue. how many has it been now? too many to count. but you keep count, you do.

some of the humans you're more fond of than others. some of them your time lord is more fond of than the others. some of them grow on you, others don't, but all the same if your time lord cares about them, you care about them. you like when they say that you’re bigger on the inside, that part is fun.

perhaps you don’t mind the humans as much as you should, you're supposed to have multiple pilots anyway. if this is how you procure them, then so be it. unfortunately your time lord never cares to show any of them how. they would rather bumble around on their own and crash land into things than share that part of you to their human friends. hubris has always been their downfall.

there have been a few that have done it though, some more successfully than others. finally! you have another pilot!! you like these ones especially, they pilot you much more carefully than your time lord ever has, and they have established what little telepathic connection their tiny human brains can handle. not quite the same that you have with your time lord, but every little bit helps you feel more connected to those humans than the others.

it hurts more when those ones leave.

it hurts when all of them leave.

but your time lord continues on. drying up the tears and probably regenerating into a new face - again - but this new face loves you all the same. they pick up more strays. the strays leave. repeat endlessly.

you have too many bedrooms in storage, too many clothing preferences in the back of your wardrobes, too many favorite snacks left to expire in the cupboards, too many personal items and too many souvenirs from their travels hidden away, never to be picked up again. but you're infinite, you can keep going so long as your time lord keeps breathing. you can continue growing and changing, making room for every new human friend, altering yourself for every version of your time lord.

you hold all of these memories, all of these lives, just the same as your time lord. but they don't have to organize, sort, and carry the physical reminders of all of those lives like you do.

they can saunter off and forget it all, when its convenient. but you know they don't actually forget. neither of you can ever forget.

and the weight isn't any less just because there's two of you to carry it.

#anyways #doctor who #dw meta #tardis #the tardis #im sad typing this up but yeah #this fr got me so emotional the other day thinking about it #i had actual physical heartache over it

2K notes · View notes

ghostlywhiskey · 7 months

Note

have you ever written anything about simon with a breeding kink?

no but i've definititely thought about it more often than not oops

i'm actually writing something with price & a breeding kink rn, so i might do simon too honestly, but my brain has been protesting against me every time i try to write grr

but simon with a breeding kink is top 5 brain rot thought next to price with a breeding king. like price genuinely wants you pregnant and carrying his child, man will not stop until he's hit like 3 to 5 kids. if the thought of you getting impregnated is in his head, he's working on making it happen asap. completely blinded by the thought.

and this is where i feel simon differs and is hesitant at first when the thought of getting you pregnant crosses his mind and he genuinely sits on the thought for a few days. and for him its a tiny event/scenario that really kicks it into gear - like seeing you hold a family members baby, or the way you smile at a toddler in the supermarket while waiting to check out at the register attempting to make the toddler laugh. because then it further rationalizes the idea in his head because he can't help but think of you carrying his child, knowing he would have helped create the growing baby inside you. and how good of a mother you'd be - attentive, loving, patient, etc. and when your getting ready for bed later that night, he'll come up behind you in the bathroom, one hand on your waist while the other slides to the front of your stomach. his hand gently rubbing the area. his breath against your ear making you shiver but its his words that making your body freeze in shock. "gonna be a good girl and give me a baby, alright?"

i want to be euthanized or maybe just pregnant with simons baby but anyway time to add simon with a breeding kink to the list of things to write about

#nic respones #anon #anon ask #simon riley #simon ghost riley

122 notes · View notes

wriothesleysgf · 1 year

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ OUT OF MOTION — satoru gojo .

about you're home early from college, and satoru has a lovely idea about how you should spend your extra time.

contains [ex]plicit content, stepbrother ! gojo, watersports, f reader, corruption, p⋆rn watching, c*ckwarming.

words 1.2k

“princess? that you?” your big brother bellowed from his bedroom. in the blink of an eye, his tall frame was leaning against his door frame. “thought you weren’t supposed to be home until five, sweets?”

the pet names made your knees much weaker than they should of. “my final class got cancelled, ‘toru. the professor is sick.” you stopped in front of him, looking up at the man with such adorable doe eyes. he smiled down at you, thankful for whatever illness bestowed upon your teacher had blessed him with a chance to spend some extra time with his darling step sister while your parents were still out at work.

“why don’t you come hang in my room for a bit, bubba? we can watch a movie together,” satoru suggested. you didn’t miss the mischievous glint in his vibrant cerulean eyes that told you exactly what sort of ‘movie’ he had in mind. you were suddenly rather glad that you’d chosen to wear a pretty little skirt and a sweet blouse to class today, despite the chilly february weather.

you agreed to the proposal before throwing your school bag onto your bed and heading into satoru’s room. the lighting was dim, as it always was - you loved it because it made his features look even more intense. everything was still as clean as it usually was, with the only object showing that the room was in use being the silver laptop strewn on the bed.

your brother got comfy himself before tapping his thigh, motioning for you to perch on it. you made sure that your skirt splayed out perfectly and your clothed cunt was resting against satoru’s skinny black jeans. every look that you shot him was feigning innocence, as though you didn’t have but a clue what you were up to. either way, the outline of his cock became increasingly visible against the restrictive material.

he booted up his laptop, typing in a website before putting it to the side for a second. “you know the drill, lovely,”

you knew exactly what he wanted as you spread your legs, hiking up your skirt so that he could see the little wet patch seeping through your underwear, accumulated from the anticipation. satoru smirked at your willingness, uttering some teasing remarks about how needy you were for him.

“sweets, so fucking worked up for your big brother, hmm? all this for me? bet you skipped your last class just for a fill of my cock, didn’t you, doll? needed to get your needy little pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s warm cum,”

you grew heavily embarrassed, instinctively tilting your head downwards so as to avoid eye contact at all costs. satoru chuckled before using his large hand to gently grip your chin and recentre your gaze back onto him. “there we go,” he mumbled before leaning into you, fully intending on kissing your pretty lips. however, you dodged at the last second and his mouth collided with your cheek instead.

“not on m’lips,” you muttered, voice wavering slightly.

“sorry, sweets. ‘s amusing how you’re so resistance when it comes to those glossy lips, but you’re always eager to let me get into that perfect cunt of yours.”

you felt your cheeks heat up once again.

satoru was growing tired of playing with his food, and the near silent room was suddenly filled with the sound of him unzipping his dark jeans and subsequently tugging at his waistband enough for him to pull out his cock. the wispy hairs at its base shone under the room’s low light, and the sheer size of your stepbrother’s cock made you drool a little.

“you ready to come sit on me, sweets? or d’ya wanna take my fingers first?” satoru offered, making your heart do a tiny flip. sure, it was basic courtesy to ensure that your cunt was prepared enough to take his cock, yet the way that he cared for you and the sincerity in his ethereal orbs made you feel fuzzy inside.

“‘s okay, ‘toru,” you agreed, pulling your panties off before straddling his hips.

“fine, but stop if it hurts, okay, angel?”

you nodded. satoru stroked his cock, spreading the glistening beads of precum that were already present. he cooed sporadic praises under his breath as you sunk down on him, taking your time and setting your own pace before you finally bottomed out, with the little hairs on his pubic bone grazing against your swollen clit.

“stay still f’me, princess? i wanna show you something. . .”

it wasn’t really a question, but a softly worded command. this wasn’t the first time that you and your stepbrother had had a ‘movie night’ where instead of a family friendly flick, satoru would put on some porno and you’d often end up bent in a similar position as the woman in the movie playing. although, where these nights were often more impromptu, this time satoru had planned the situation a little in advance. he had you in the exact predicament that he desired: with your pussy wrapped nice and tight around his cock. what you were unaware of, was that that the reason for the room’s cleanliness was that he’d spent the afternoon switching his sheets to waterproof ones. sure, he didn’t know that you’d be home early today, but he was planning on getting you to his room and onto his dick one way or another.

the man positioned the laptop screen so that you could both see it, and then he hit play on the video. it was already in full screen mode, so you didn’t have the opportunity to decipher the content of the video from the title - and yes, he had planned for this.

its beginning bore no stark warnings that this video would be a little more racy than usual. there was a weak plot of a pretty girl’s washer getting broken and the plumber coming to fix the pipes, only for her to end up playing with his pipe. the kicker came about twenty minutes into the material, where you were already whining and whimpering in satoru’s ear, begging for him to fuck you dumb already. your clit tingled and your cunt ached, yet he reminded you that if you didn’t pay attention, he’d happily let you skip off into your room and get started on some assignment that needed your time instead.

so, you returned your focus. all because you wanted your stepbrother to make you cum. the sex only got messier, but here came the one thing that satoru desperately wanted you to see: the man pissed while his cock was still deep inside the woman’s cunt.

“‘toru!” you squealed, looking away and clenching your eyes shut. “that’s disgusting!”

“you know, sweets,” he replied with a smirk, “when i’m this deep inside of you, you can’t hide your feelings. don’t lie, it turned you on a little. i could feel your oh so innocent cunt flutter around my dick.” you stayed quiet, contemplating what to do next. he only took that as a means to continue, this time mocking you. “i bet that’s what your thinking now, princess. ‘oh, i wish my dearest, most handsome big brother would defile my pussy like that! would you? would you piss in my little pussy, ‘toru-nii?’”

though his words disgusted you, there was a degree of truth behind each syllable. satoru often treated you like a princess, so the thought of him committing such a degrading act against you lit a fire deep within your core. as he continued his charade, bullying you into letting him have his way, all you could do was shift in your place and elicit tiny whines - he truly had you wrapped around his little finger.

"so? what d'ya say, princess?"

#★ — delilah's musings.#gojo x reader #satoru gojō x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

570 notes · View notes

abiiors · 4 months

Note

I'm having the worst period cramps rn and I just need ross to take care of me 😫❤️‍🩹. Or he needs to fuck me so hard so I can feel relaxed

i wrote something super fluffy a while ago about ross and period comfort haha but railing to get rid of the cramps???? 👀👀 yeah i'm on board

i did not proofread this sorry 😭

"why won't you let me take care of you!"

you pout at ross, at his tone and his mini outburst after ten minutes of going back and forth about whether him seeing you bleed was gross or not. he's adamant that it's not--periods are natural, of course they are. but that still doesn't mean you won't feel weird about him seeing you bleed in the shower.

the tiny cubicle is full of steam and the calming scent of lavender, and sure the warm water has helped with the cramps a bit but every few minutes you wince and try to massage them away.

his wet arm snakes around your waist, holding you against his equally wet, naked chest and his thumb tugs at your lower lip.

"i can tell you're in pain, sweetheart. you keep wincing."

"what if you get grossed out!"

patiently, he sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. "there is nothing, and i mean nothing about you that will ever gross me out."

his tone is final, a little flat too like he's reiterated this a million times (he has) but it's all the more dramatic with steam rising in the room and the water clinging to his lashes. sweetly, ross leans down and presses his lips against yours.

"i know how to help with the pain."

you look at him and jut out your lower lip. "what if i get blood on you."

silently, his hands move from your waist to your hips, then to your ass. his touch feels good, his mouth on you feels even better.

"we are in the shower, sweetheart," he scolds lightly and the roughness of shoots straight through your body. "make a mess on me, i don't care. but let me make you feel good."

it's like your body has a reaction of its own and you hitch your leg up and around his waist. ross smiles against your jaw.

"there we go... relax for me, love."

"don't tease," you whine when you feel his hard cock against your folds, making you hiss each time he moves.

"no?" he smiles, catching your bottom lip between his teeth before running his tongue along it. the warm water feels delicious on your body but the heat between your legs grows with each passing second. "alright then."

with one hand firmly against your ass, ross finally slides in--inch by inch, slowly, until he slams his hips at the last moment, and pushes you flat against the shower wall.

"fuck baby..." you cry out and look down at your connected bodies, watch him slip in and out of you, making you moan each time he's fully in and hitting the sweet spot.

your leg around his waist trembles and ross moves his hand under your thigh, holding you in place. you're already too fucking sensitive from the period, trembling each time he slams into you and squeezes your ass, your thigh. a cry rips out of you when ross dips his mouth and takes your nipple in his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth.

"ross, feel so fucking good... fuck!"

"don't stop, don't--"

and he fucks you through all of it, pounding into you until the warm tile of the wall is digging into you and your hesitation about the blood is a hazy little afterthought. until the ache in your belly disappears and the ache in your cunt intensifies.

he fucks you till you're thrusting your hips forward, matching his face and kissing his mouth hungrily, moaning and gasping against it. until the pleasure becomes overwhelming and your whole body buzzes with lightning. he presses against you more, and you feel him deeper, feel him in your stomach and you clench around him tightly, holding him in place.

ross curses, his cock twitches inside you, and grows impossibly hard until you feel a slight brush of his fingers against your clit, tracing it in a lazy eight motion and you cry out.

"cum with me," he says, and you let go when you feel him spilling into you. feel the warmth of his release against your walls.

you stay like that for a long time, until the water runs almost cold and your pants turn back into breathing. only then does he pull out, slowly, trying not to make you over-sensitive. you hiss regardless but ross steps back a bit and turns off the water.

"better?" he asks and grins smugly when you push off the wall and nuzzle into his chest.

"so much better..."

and it is. the cramps feel almost...gone. an ache that's barely even there anymore.

let's get you clothed then." he grabs the dry fluffy towel and puts it around you, turning around to grab the second one for himself (not before you smack his bare arse though, and step away out of his reach, giggling the whole time)

"i am a piece of meat to you," he shakes his head, trying to look somber but a small smile slips away anyway.

you take your time to stare at him--at his wet and naked chest, damp hair, and blown out pupils. "maybe..." you cheekily blow a kiss his way, "the hottest piece of meat though."

#MINORS DO NOT INTERACT #✉️#ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #♡: ross blurbs

71 notes · View notes

kitten4sannie · 1 year

Note

alyssa… my brain is going insane with cat boy!sannie rn!! LIKE HE’D BE SO CUTE NUZZLING UP TO YOU. He’d look at you with his big boba eyes as he nudged your lap for attention. Kitty Sannie going into heat and grinding on your lap as his tip drips desperately Like he’s so cute ☹️

pleaseee cat boy sannie is actually one of my fave topics ever shsjdcbsbd that would be so adorable stop itttt ;-; my hamster brain is gonna come up with something feral for this i swearrr!! here it is <33 i hope you enjoy this kitty san brainrot 🐾💞

warnings: sub! san, dom! reader, mommy kink, teasing, grinding

Kitty San, of course, requires lots of attention and affection, so you always find yourself coming home and ending up with him attached to you as soon as you sit down on the couch to relax — with his strong arms immediately wrapped around you, his face buried in your neck to routinely scent and lick at you, his tiny tongue dragging across your skin and across your clavicle. He emitted a soft meow, increasingly stimulated by your warm heater of a body being so safe and soft against him, instinctively rutting himself against you.

“What is it, Sannie?” you asked softly, running your hands through his pretty blond locks, occasionally rubbing at his fluffy ears.

As a wave of purrs vibrated from his chest, San lowered his head slightly, gazing up at your with his big brown eyes, murmuring a tiny, “Need Mommy’s touch…” The hybrid’s ears flattened slightly, his soft tail already beginning to coil around one of your thighs. As you pondered his adorable request, your eager lover began to move his hips a bit faster, his cock stiff and throbbing against you even through the thin, slightly translucent material of his oversized sleep shirt.

“Oh, yeah?” you gauged, simply sitting still and letting him rub his barely clothed cock against your lower abdomen in a way that allowed him to receive the most pleasure — though it wasn’t nearly enough. He was spoiled, always getting exactly what he wanted when he wanted it. You just couldn’t bring yourself to say no, but you had nothing against a little teasing. “Why should Mommy touch you?”

San reached one small hand up underneath his oversized t-shirt to tweak and pull at his already reddened buds, grinding against you in a more slow, more deliberate way, forcing an airy whine out of the needy hybrid. “I’ve been such a good boy for you. I haven’t made a mess since last night when you took care of me.”

“Mm, that is true. You’ve been waiting patiently all day, huh? Haven’t even touched yourself a single time?” you asked softly, running a single finger up his clothed cock and around the head, feeling the heat emanating from it and the way it twitched periodically.

“O-only my chest, Mommy. I would never touch myself down there without your permission,” he murmured, his tiny fangs sinking into his plush bottom lip as he gazed down to watch you pull his shirt up and grab his length directly, your hand suddenly gliding up and down it in a way that had his toes curling and his tail releasing your arm, instead standing at attention. “So good, Mommy, please don’t stop…”

“I won’t, baby. I’ll give you what you want, since you’re always such a good boy for me,” you purred, leaning in to press a kiss to your hybrid’s lips.

“Only for you, Mommy,” San moaned against your lips, using his small tongue to lick into your mouth, the purrs he was releasing only growing louder.

Knowing where San was sensitive, you instinctively reached around his waist with your free hand, grabbing his tail at the base and gently tugging at it, pre-cum instantly spilling down his cock and coating your hand, allowing you to jerk him off at an even faster pace.

A bit of saliva dripped from San’s mouth once he pulled away from you, struggling to keep his eyes open as he let out a series of ‘ah-ah-ah’s’ each time your hand quickly made its way up from the base of his cock to the tip, your fingers squeezing around it just the way he liked it. It didn’t help that you continued to caress and pull at his tail, the fluffy end of it flicking back and forth in a disjointed motion. “Sannie’s gonna make another mess,” the overstimulated hybrid whined out, unintentionally thrusting himself into your hand a few times until thick ropes of warm, milky liquid shot out of his throbbing cock, landing on the both of you and the couch cushion as well. Panting, San swiped at some cum that had landed on his cheek, studying how it slid down into between his small fingers, before licking at it. “It got everywhere, Mommy…”

“Just like always.” You chuckled softly, caressing the hybrid’s cheek, simply watching him suck the rest of his essence off of his fingers. “Messy boy~”

San’s ears perked up, a lustful, mischievous smile forming on his flushed, sweaty face. “Can I do it again?” His pretty eyes twinkled, his lips angled into a tiny, irresistable pout. "Please?"

#ask #for kayla 🍋#ateez #ateez smut #ateez san #choi san #san smut #ateez imagines #ateez hard asks #ateez hard hours

267 notes · View notes

stvharrngton · 1 year

Note

Hi! So context for the request… I started new job at the end of last year and generally I love it but the past two months have been incredibly stressful and then last week we were understaffed, had an internal review and I was left to do the job of three people and not a single supervisor has thanked me for holding down the fort that day AND making lunch AND cleaning it up. And I’m feeling very under appreciated, like to the point where I feel like im no good at my job or even liked. So to the ask, how would steve handle a significant other who is feeling this way and is shutting down about it? I’d be really grateful if you could right something around this bc I just need my comfort character to hold me rn ….

hi my love! i’m so sorry to hear that about your job that sucks so much :( i really hope you enjoy this and it makes you feel a lil better 💝

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none really, burnt out!reader, soft comfort boyfie steeb

taglist: @dukesmebby @saturnband @sweetbabygirlsworld

The sound of the front door of your apartment slamming back against its hinges disturbed Steve from his busy task at the stove. The wooden spoon almost clattering back into the pan with a clang, his eyebrows pinched together as he peered over his shoulder at you.

Steve was concerned. You were never one for slamming doors or loud noises so when he turned round to face you, your slumped shoulders and the defeated look on your face said it all.

Ringing his hands on a dish towel he made his way over to you, comforting palms placed on your forearms as Steve bent at his knees to get a better look at you.

“Everything okay, baby?” He asked, voice all soft and quiet, barely above a whisper.

You could only respond with a half-hearted shrug, sad eyes not able to meet Steve’s warm, inviting one’s. You wanted nothing more than for this day to end, another shitty day at work to top it all off.

Steve’s hands moved to your face then, fingers tucking a stray strand behind your ear, his thumb stroking across your cheek. He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched your eyes grow teary.

“Hey,” Steve cooed, “hey, what’s wrong, huh? You can tell me. Is it work?”

Steve had a feeling, a sinking suspicion you’d had yet another bad day at your job, another day of doing more than they pay you for, another day of not being thanked. He wished you would just leave, find somewhere you’d be appreciated more but Steve knew it wasn’t that simple.

There was no convincing you, he knew that, so Steve would let you rant. He would let you get all your anger out, he’d give you his shoulder to cry on, rub your back and stroke your hair until your sobs turned into sniffles.

Sometimes you didn’t want to talk, your mind too foggy and your eyes too heavy. A night spent in Steve’s arms on your couch, limbs tangled whilst his lips pressed soft kisses against your hairline, the movie on the TV simply serving as background noise outside your bubble.

Tonight was one of those nights.

“You wanna talk about it, sweetheart?” Steve had since pulled you into his chest, the dinner he was prepping long forgotten about. His arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders in a bone crushing hug.

You shook your head against the material of your boyfriend’s polo, the fabric scratching against your already hot cheek. The tears you’d be holding in were now threatening to spill over your lashes, dampening Steve’s t-shirt.

“Okay,” he whispered, his head now resting against your own as you both stood wrapped around one another in your kitchen, “can you tell me what you need? Can you do that for me, baby?”

He knew he had to tread lightly here, gently trying to coax a response from you in this state but his need for you to understand that he was there for you no matter what was immense. In whichever way you needed, it didn’t matter to Steve. All that mattered in these moments was how he could make you feel a tiny bit better.

So you nodded timidly, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears from spilling over. A quiet sniffle heard from your nose muffled by Steve’s chest.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, “can we shower? And then just get into bed?” Chin resting against his firm chest now, you blinked up at your boyfriend with big, wet doe eyes. A look that Steve could never say no to.

Steve let his lips rest against your temple before bringing them to your forehead. A final squeeze to your shoulders as he spoke,

“A shower and cuddles in bed coming right up,” Steve uttered with a light tone and a soft smile tugging at his lips, “anything for my girl.”

The mirror began to steam up as the water warmed, Steve not letting you move an inch as he undressed you and showered you in sweet kisses all over your skin. He couldn’t help let the gentle smirk that graced his features when you asked him to step inside with you.

Hot water cascaded down your bodies as the tension of the day left your shoulders, the heavy burden slowly being lifted. Steve’s hands wandered your body as your head rested against his chest, eyes closed, just letting the water and your boyfriend soothe you.

You washed each other’s hair, the artificial scent of strawberries filling your noses, a chuckle bouncing off the glass as Steve grinned at the content noises escaping your lips as he massaged your scalp.

“That feel good, baby?” he asked with a swift peck to your cheek, a toothy grin on his face as a soft smile threatened to tug at your lips.

Hair and bodies washed, Steve held you in the shower a little longer. His hand rubbing up and down your naked back soothingly, a kiss pressed to your hairline before he switched the water off, mumbling something about how he doesn’t want you both to turn into prunes.

You were wrapped up in a fluffy towel before you could complain about the chill, favourite pyjamas in hand as Steve fluffed the towel around your shoulders.

“Let’s get you into bed, pretty girl, come on.” Steve urged before swooping you up in his strong arms, laying you down on the soft sheets. You immediately curled into his side the moment he pulled the comforter over you.

You let him wrap your arms around you tightly, his head resting against yours as he drew soft shapes lightly on your arm. You heard Steve sigh quietly as his eyes scanned the ceiling whilst he thought through what he was going to say.

“You know you can talk when you’re ready, honey,” Steve began, his fingers continued softly against your arm, “but you know you can just leave that shitty job, right?”

An exhale pushed its way past your nostrils, not in discontent but it was just difficult. You loved your job, you did but it was just tough going lately. You were burnt out and feeling under-appreciated and yeah, it was taking its toll on you.

Steve knew this, of course he did, but he just wanted to look after you, to make sure you were happy.

“How ‘bout you come work at Family Video with me and Robin?” He asked, a grin toying at his lips, “Come on, it’d be a breeze and we’d get to spend all day, every day together. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

A playful smile crept its way onto your features, one that Steve couldn’t see in the dark of his room but one he could feel. Steve let his fingers wander to your ribs, pads threatening to dig into your soft skin.

“Plus, Keith would love having a smokin’ hot girl like you around the place.”

You smacked his shoulder as you scoffed, “Steve, you are not pimping me out to your creepy boss so you can get an easy ride.”

Steve laughed loudly, a sound that rumbled in his stomach up to his chest, “‘M joking, baby. I wouldn’t do that to you. But you know I’m here for you, right? Whatever my girl needs, whenever she needs it.”

You sighed into his chest, a small content noise that filled out the room. Steve pulled you in impossibly closer, as if to offer more reassurance.

“Forever and always?” You asked, voice quiet.

“Forever and always.” Steve replied with a kiss to your forehead before you fell asleep in his arms.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things blurb #stranger things fanfic #k.fic #request #this is a queued post

367 notes · View notes