#making him look pissed should not be difficult but it is
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Twst Unveil Event Part 6
Philomela: You want to change the location you've chosen?
Silver: Yes. If it is possible.
Philomela: Hmm... I would've granted your request; however, you're up next. It would be difficult for me to make last minute changes.
Silver: But... Didn't you say that it isn't a problem to you?
Philomela: ...
Philomela: *laughs*
Philomela: Clever kid! Alright! Let me hear your reason first!
Silver: ...
Silver: I realized that the location I've chosen is nothing compared to what Sebek and Floyd had chosen.
Philomela: Hm? You think that Enchanted Garden is nothing?
Silver: Huh?
Philomela: Listen here, Silver.
Philomela: It might seem that it doesn't pose any threat, but trust me. That garden is one of the places you should never underestimate.
Silver: ...
Philomela: Still, if you really want to change it, then I'll have to respect it.
Silver: ...
Silver: No, it's fine. I'm sticking to my chosen location.
Philomela: *smiles* Good.
Leona: Yuurin!
Yuurin: Leona-senpai?
Leona: What was that, huh?!
Yuurin: ...
Ruggie and Jack: ...
Leona: *looks pissed*
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I won the second match, Leona-senpai.
Leona: Yeah, congrats. But that's not the point!
Ruggie: Shishishi!
Malleus, Sebek, Epel, Floyd, and Jade: ...
Epel: Is Leona here to scold him or what?
Jade: He must've been worried.
Floyd: Eeeehhh~ So Sea Lion is here for me too~?
Sebek: It might be! Because you attempted to drown Yuurin!
Floyd: Hehe~ You're just jealous that our match was more exciting than yours~.
Sebek: WHAT DID YOU SAY?!
Malleus: Sebek, calm down.
Sebek: Krk... Yes, Waka-sama...
Epel: *sigh*
Yuurin: *has introduced Leona to Philomela*
Philomela: Ah, you look strong! You should join our wrestling competition next time!
Leona: No, thank you. I'm too lazy for that.
Yuurin: Philomela, can I ask you to prepare a room for Leona-senpai?
Philomela: Of course. But isn't he here to watch?
Ruggie: Nah. His heart is too fragile.
Jack: *nods in agreement*
Leona: *glares at them*
Ruggie and Jack: ...
Philomela: I see. So he's like Akane, huh?
Leona: Huh? What about Aki— I mean, Akane?
Philomela: She always worries for Yuurin. It never came across to her that her brother received blessings from the gods.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Aren't we all, Philomela?
Philomela: Yes. That's why I will never understand your sister.
Philomela: Us from the Kingdom of Heroes have always been adventurous!
Philomela: Danger excites us!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I have to disagree on that.
Philomela: That's your opinion. Haha!
Leona: ...
Leona: Let's change the subject.
Leona: Who's the next person to fight Yuurin?
Philomela: Silver.
Leona: Huh.
Ruggie and Jack: ...
Ruggie: *whispers to Jack* He's already crossing out Silver from his list.
Jack: *whispers back* List of what?
Ruggie: Yuurin's potential suitors.
Jack: ...
Philomela: Our third match is about to begin!
Philomela: Are you ready fighters?!
Yuurin and Silver: Yes!
Leona: *frowning*
Malleus: You do not need to worry, Kingscholar.
Malleus: Yuurin will be alright.
Leona: I don't need your reassurance, lizard.
Sebek: How dare you?! You should be grateful that Waka-sama is showing some concern to you, human!
Leona: I don't need it. And I don't care.
Malleus: *smirks* Well I hope Yuurin win against Silver.
Leona: ...
Leona: Huh?
Malleus: Silver has been trained by Lilia.
Malleus: There is a chance that Yuurin might lose this match.
Leona: Are you making me laugh?
Malleus: I'm only stating the possibilities.
Leona: Grr... *smirks* Then I hope your Silver won't lose.
Malleus: *smug face*
Epel, Jade, Ruggie, Jack, and Floyd: ...
Floyd: Looks like Damselfish can't afford to lose now~.
Epel: So is Silver.
Jade: Hm. Everyone, has anyone seen Rook?
Epel: Oh, Rook-senpai is doing some warm-up exercises in preparation for his match.
Jade: I see.
Yuurin and Silver: *have been sent to the Enchanted Garden*
Silver: This is...
Yuurin: ...
*The Enchanted Garden is a place straight out of nightmare — with heavy storms and lightning striking the ground.*
Leona: What the heck?
Philomela: Ah, one of the most beautiful places in the Kingdom of Heroes. Hahaha!
Ruggie: This is going to be difficult for both of them.
Philomela: I doubt it.
Leona: What do you mean?
Philomela: That place is being taken care of by a nymph, who Yuurin rejected.
Leona and the others: !!!
Silver: I don't understand. This is not what I imagined this place to be.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: It is a beautiful place. Though you'll get to see it after the nymph who's protecting it is no longer mad at me.
Silver: I see.
Philomela: ENOUGH TALK! START FIGHTING!
Yuurin and Silver: ...
Yuurin and Silver: *proceed to take their fighting stances*
Sebek: SILVER! DO YOUR BEST AND WIN THIS!
Epel: Sebek, can't you just watch quietly?
Sebek: Hmph!
Malleus and Leona: ...
Ruggie: Damn. These two look so serious.
Yuurin and Silver: *seems to be thinking the same thing*
Yuurin and Silver: *charges at each other, aiming to grab other's shoulder*
Yuurin and Silver: *fends off each other*
Yuurin and Silver: *creates distance then attacks again*
Epel: Holy shit—
Malleus: *smirks*
Leona: ...
Leona: What's going on? Why does it seem to me that Yuurin is slowing down?
Philomela: The garden is restricting his movements, providing an opportunity for Silver.
Leona: ...
Epel: Yuurin is slowing down?
Philomela: Yes.
Philomela: Watch closely.
Yuurin: *her steps look heavy whenever she moves*
Epel: Wait... Is the gravity... different for him?!
Philomela: Haha! You have a keen eye! Yes!
Leona: ...
Ruggie and Jack: ...
Yuurin: !
Silver: *has finally managed to grab Yuurin's shoulder*
Silver: *quickly pulled her leg and pushed forward; both of them falling to the ground* *then stayed on top of her*
Leona: That little—!
Malleus: Looks like the match has been decided—
Yuurin: *uses sweep; knocking Silver off-balance by hooking his hip with her leg, then used her other leg and upper body to create a momentum and flipped him over*
Silver: *is genuinely impressed*
Malleus and Leona: ...
Leona: What were you saying again, lizard?
Sebek: SILVER! THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE AMAZED!
Philomela: *laughs*
Yuurin: *doesn't waste any second and immediately applies the Ezekiel choke by gripping his collar with one hand and sliding her other arm under his head, positioning her forearm against his neck*
Yuurin: *applying downward pressure with the hand gripping the collar while using her forearm to compress his windpipe*
Silver: !!!
Silver: *tries to escape*
Yuurin: *doesn't budge no matter how he tries to move*
Silver: ...
Silver: I... give up.
Yuurin: *lets go of him* *sighs in relief*
Silver: *coughs; catching his breath* .
Silver: I need... to train more.
Yuurin: Just say when and I'll help you.
Silver: ...
Silver: *smiles* Thank you.
Philomela: Our winner— Yuurin!!!
Silver: I'm sorry. I lost.
Malleus: *smiles* That is alright. You did your best.
Sebek: Hmph! I told you to win!
Leona: Yuurin, how are you feeling?
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: My body feels sore.
Leona: ...
Leona: You should rest a little.
Philomela: Yuurin! That was amazing! *picks her up and hugs her tight*
Leona: !!!
Leona: Hey!
Yuurin: ...
Philomela: One more match! *laughs*
Yuurin: Please let go of me.
Epel: I feel bad for Yuurin. His match with Silver must've exhausted him.
Jade: Honestly, I think it was more of the garden's fault.
Floyd: *nods in agreement*
Rook: Oh la la~.
Rook: *amused smile*
Rook: Our match will surely be interesting, Monsieur Tranquille.
#twisted wonderland#twst yuurin#twst silver#twst rook#twst floyd#twst sebek#twst leona#twst ruggie#twst jack#twst epel#twst jade#twst malleus#twst oc philomela#twst unveil event
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Public Restrooms
Warning: Implied non-con, Reader gets followed.
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You never liked public restrooms. They were filthy, claustrophobic, and always smelled like body odor. There was something inherently nerve wracking to be engaging in something so private next to complete strangers. You only hated one thing more than using public bathrooms, and that was using them at night.
Gnats fluttered around the bright street lights as you tightened your multicolored scarf around your neck.
“It's colder than it was yesterday…” You thought, blowing on your frostbitten hands. Work had ended an hour ago, however, you decided to stay longer for a little overtime. But now your bladder was practically bursting and you needed to make your way to the nearest restroom before things got ugly. You looked around, the shop was all closed up and your home was a whole bus ride away.
“Maybe there'll be one on the way?”
Snow crunched beneath your feet as you made your way to the bus stop. The air smelled of frost and gasoline. Winter came with a vengeance this year, covering almost everything with a fresh coat of glittery white snow. It would be nice to have a car at a time like this but with your rent already sky high, it would be virtually implausible. You approached the stop, blowing on your hands once more as you scanned the area. You couldn't see any stores still open at this hour. In a perfect world, someone would make an exception and let you in just to pee. But it was not a perfect world. You looked to your left and there was a bench with a roof to keep out the snow or rain; but there was also a person there, sitting. You didn't wanna bother the man, especially if he was homeless, however, it was becoming more and more difficult to hold yourself. You were tempted to just go in a bush at this point. Walking over to the man, you waved at him.
“Excuse me.”
He looked up at you, his messy hair falling over his face. You would be lying if you said he didn't give you a weird vibe. He sat hunched over, dressed in all black, with sharp red eyes. You almost peed right then and there.
“S-Sorry to bother you but do you know anywhere I can use the restroom?” You asked, swallowing your fear. He stared at you for a while, and you swear he was undressing you with his eyes. His tongue swiped his bottom lip. That's when you realized just how dry and chapped they were. Actually, the man's whole face looked a little dehydrated…
“Down the street to the left.”
You blinked.
“There's a park and the bathrooms should still be open…” He spoke again.
“Oh, right! Thank you.”
You laughed a bit to clear the nervousness in your voice. He looked away and you took that as the end of your conversation, turning around and heading for the park. As you walked you felt his gaze on you once more. It made you shiver, his eyes colder than any winter. But you kept going, he was probably just some homeless guy that you'd never see again after tonight. Right… Just some bitter homeless person.
To your surprise, the man was right. You half figured you'd get led around in circles listening to someone who clearly wasn't mentally sound. But there it was. You hoped that you'd be able to go inside somewhere to pee. Like a restaurant or convenience store. It just felt safer that way, and it was more than likely cleaner than the restroom you just stepped into. It reeked of feces and hot piss, and questionable stains and toilet paper seemed to be everywhere. This was one of the many reasons why you absolutely hated public bathrooms. You could catch a disease sitting on some of these toilets. However, beggars can't be choosers and you were about to bust.
The creaking of the bathroom door caught your attention as you looked for a clean stall. Great. Now it was worse. Doing your private business next to a stranger was embarrassing and you avoided it at all costs. You sighed.
“It's whatever, just hurry up and pick a stall.” You thought, pushing open another door. Heavy footsteps approached you but you didn't turn to face them. It wasn't until they stopped that you looked over. Your eyes were met with deep crimson ones. It was him, the man from the bus stop. You took a cautionary step back.
“Y-You can't be in here.” You spoke, trying to convince yourself that he was just confused and didn't know that this was the women's restroom. He didn't respond, eyes still locked on yours. He sat with a hunch before but now he towered over you. At least a five inch difference between the two of you. For some reason he looked more cognitive than when you first saw him. Something about the look in his eyes told you that he definitely wasn't confused and that he knew exactly what he was doing. Suddenly, you felt warm in thirty degree weather. Fear heating you up and making you sweat bullets. Your heart sank as he took a step closer. You shook your head, a silent “no” escaping your lips.
“What's wrong…?”
Your eyes widened, shocked to hear his voice.
“A cute little thing like you stumbles across my path and you think I'm just supposed to let you go?”
His voice was smooth yet raspy, and it definitely wasn't something you'd ever forget. He stepped forward again and you backed up, straight into a wall. You looked behind you and in that moment he closed the gap between the two of you. He chuckled as he gazed upon your face. Horror. Absolute terror was written all over it. With tears filling your eyes and dampening your full lashes. You were beautiful.
“little one… You are nothing but a sheep waiting to be herded. Now you're gonna sit here like a good little lamb and let me fuck that sweet pussy of yours until we're both spent and my balls are completely dry.”
Without warning, hot liquid ran down your legs leaving a dark spot right at your crotch. He looked down at the area and smirked.
“How adorable. I guess you have no choice but to take them off now…”
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#shigaraki tomura#tomura shigaraki#mha#mha shigaraki#mha tomura#my hero academia#bnha#bnha shigaraki#bnha tomura#boku no hero academia#shigaraki#shigaraki x reader#tomura x reader#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tomura x reader#writing#shigaraki smut#tomura smut
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𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭
male reader fic🍒
𝘽𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙆𝘼𝙐𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙕
he was never a morning person, always pissed off in the morning and known to cuss others out or simply be rude for no reason. well, you were no different. there were times it'd be cute, where he would be all clingy and hanging onto you and giving small kisses to your soft skin.
but, today was a day that he had to work on music and translate which he did not feel like doing. he had to wake up earlier than usual just to do this, and it pissed him off. but you? jesus you wish you could've followed what he asked you to do. "just don't bother me right now, i'm not in the mood." his voice which was usually high in pitch was a little lower in frustration and exaughst.
but gosh..you just needed him so badly it hurt! you had tried everything, you really tried absolutely everything. you tried waiting it out for him to be in a better mood or at least finish translation. you tried to pleasure yourself and pretend it was him, but no matter what the erection was painful in your shorts. you would walk along the medium cold floor tiles to the studio bill would use, mostly by himself
peeking from behind the door you'd watch his calm like mannerism, as he'd let the pencil move alone the paper and then he'd go to type on his laptop next to him. his hair which was cut into a mullet was slicked back yet messy, and from time to time he'd lean back and sigh in which his slender fingers would come to brush the thick strands. your legs had almost given out on the sight— he was so..so perfect.
you'd let your body slip in through the door, and your palms would press against the surface to close it quietly. he had been sitting at his desk, his feet tapping against the floor angrily. it wasn't that difficult, he just didn't want to do it. his eyes would glare over at you, a clear narrow in his pupils. "not right now.." he didn't need to know what you wanted, he heard your whimpers from the next room.
a sulking look would make way to your face, your body coming closer to him and your arms wrapping around his shoulders. "please bill..i just need to be around you— i swear i won't do anything." you were only lying to yourself, if he even said yes and let you near you would be whining in his ear nonstop. and thats the exact action you did— and it would be the exact you would regret.
bills brows would be furrowed with each word he would write. your mouth ghosting across his ear while little whimpers and moans emitted from your throat. the slick and wet noise of bills palm and fingers moving up and down your shaft rung through your ears, making you cringe at how needy you really had been. "can you hush for two seconds? all you do is whine, how can i finish this if you won't stop." he was being so mean, it was torture.
there were times it seemed like he wasn't even paying attention to his writing. you'd catch a glimpse of him side eyeing you, the way his thigh would give a bit of friction along with his hands. the small curses under his breath seeing you so wrecked out like this over his hand made him feel different. he's listen to the way your breathes would quicken, your hips rocking forward into his hand more. without words he could tell you were close, so..
his thumb would come to curl up, then back down to wear his long finger nail would block your tips entrance. your body jolted— feeling as if electricity just shot right through you. "what? you bothered me. why should i allow you to cum, hm?" he was gonna kill you on purpose.
hey guys im back
@tomssexdoll @itsmealaiah @tokio-motel @20doozers @cherry-rawr @evieskiesss
#tokio hotel x reader#tokio hotel smut#tom kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz x reader#tokio hotel fluff#tokio hotel x male reader#gustav tokio hotel#gustav x reader#georg listing smut#georg listing x reader
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shadow is such a pain in the ass to draw sometimes despite him being one of the characters i draw MOST
#this is how he repays me after i dye my hair in his image. sigh.#HIS EYES ARE SO URGHSHHSBD STUPID JOINT PUSSY BROW </333#those were words i sure just wrote#but the joint brow makes me so rugdhs.... hate........#when they're smiling or doing whatever its FINNEEE its things like anger which sre hard to express with em#despite shadow already having a permanent scowl???#making him look pissed should not be difficult but it is
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"Careful", you snag the boy's shirt before he can step into the road. The boy's head snaps away from his phone and towards you.
He looks pissed but you watch his face shift into a blank sort of stare.
"Sorry-", you release the grip on his shirt, shifting the carrier on your hip, "you should pay more attention when you're this close to the road."
You offer him a weak smile and he blinks up at you, then turns and scurries across the road, focused back onto his phone. Sighing, you adjust baby carrier and begin walking again.
The walk isn't a horrible one, ten minutes is nothing on the half hour walk it takes you to get to work. It's just a little more difficult with a awkward sized baby carrier.
Typically you'd take the train, but you need to get to the grocery store before it gets dark. The air is already chilly but the forecast calls for snow and the baby doesn't need that.
-
The store is a little warmer when you step inside and you even manage to snag a buggy.
The store is relatively quiet and you find what you need to...except for the box of baby rice towards the back on a shelf you can't reach.
You groan softly, glancing at the snoozing babe. She loves those...
You stand on your very tiptoes, grabbing at air. Then, a hand reaches up and grabs them. You turn, about to ask them for the box, when the man passes the box to you.
"Here, you looked like you needed help." He holds the box out with one hand, running his fingers through his black hair with the other.
You blink curiously at him, then take the box.
"Thank you so much, hon." You grin, placing the item in your cart and hurrying to check out.
-
The walk is still cold, despite the sun barely starting to set. You shiver, somehow managing to carry the groceries and the baby carrier at the same time.
About half a mile from your apartment, you bump into a chest. Dropping a few bags and praying the eggs aren't in them.
"Sorry about that", a masculine voice mumbles above you. You tilt your head up to meet the eyes of a boy a little younger than the one who helped you before. He tilts his head, a tuft of white hair hanging in his eyes.
"Would you like some help?" He starts grabbing the dropped bags before you can answer. He makes a gesture for you to lead the way.
"I'm Jason, by the way. We live in the same complex."
You swear you've never seen him before, but maybe that's just you.
-
That night, groceries put away and a baby snuggled happily against your chest, you lay in bed.
Oblivious to several pairs of eyes watching you and the bickering from the rooftops above.
"Ummi spoke to me today, with the baby!" Damian speaks.
"Yeah, well I helped ma with her groceries!" Jason gives him a playful shove.
"Well, the baby smiled at me!" Dick jabs a thumb at his chest triumphantly.
"All of you hush!" Tim speaks up, crouched next to Duke, eyes focused on a familiar window.
Bruce looms nearby, caught up his daydream where he's the sweater wrapped so tightly around you. Someday.
Someday sooner than you think.
#vee writes#teehee#dc x reader#platonic batfam#batfam x batmom#batfam x reader#bruce wayne x reader#jason todd x batmom#dick grayson x batmom#Damian Wayne x batmom#Duke Thomas x batmom#Tim Drake x batmom#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader#duke thomas x reader#tim drake x reader#batmom#yandere batfam#yandere dc
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hate fuckin w aot plz🙏🏿 like uh what position would they fuck you in when they mad?
Fuck me like you mad at me baby.
(Eren Y. Connie S. Armin A.)
A/N: BEAT THAT COOCHIE UP LIKE YOU MAD AT A BITCH! Sorry it took so long to get your request. But let’s just all agree Eren, Connie, Armin are the big three. I’m not arguing with anyone. It’s true. NOT PROOF READ! 17+
Synopsis: Aot men fucking you after an argument!
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༺Connie༻
—————ON DA WALL.
Connie isn’t going to show you he’s mad, but baby you gonna feel it.
And oh boy you done did it today. After he seen you flirt with a guy…jeez. You really got him walking around in circles trying to not scream at the top of his lungs.
You not going to know he’s mad for a while, after an argument and you THINK everything cooled down it hasn’t. He’s still pissed.
Props to him for controlling his anger (Eren could never.) But when you start sweet talking him again that’s when it comes out.
When you get to rubbing on his chest and start saying “I’m so sorry baby, lemme make it up to you. Please.” with that little whine in your voice…oh best believe he gonna make you sorry for real.
He gives you a small grin and says “Oh for real? You wanna make it up to me?” You should have never even offered because now look at you. Against the kitchen wall crying out how sorry you are.
“You sorry ma? How sorry?” The harshness of his voice craving down on you. You couldn’t even spit out a comprehendible sentence just “Yes mmm so sorry!”
He was satisfied with your sorry, after the second round. I mean after all you did offer…
༺Eren༻
—————FROM DA FRONT.
Now, Eren he’s rough rough when he’s mad. Like oh lord..pray he don’t get his hands on you.
Please run while you can, because after he got you alone you can’t run.
This was especially the case after he found out you followed a guy from your work place, the same guy who continuously flirted with you.
Don’t ask him how he knows, he just does.
“I ain’t dumb mama. So go ahead and do as I asked.” The request was so simple, just unfollow him. But the principle pissed you off, you never told him who to follow and who too not. So you refused. Wrong answer…
Because that refusal sent him through the roof. He just laughed while shaking his head. He tossed you on the bed with no regards.
You never been fucked so hard in your life…The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust he gave you it was ridiculous. “Look at me while I fuck you.” Eren spat out.
Your poor neighbors, the surely heard the madness that was occurring in your bedroom. But Eren did not give a single fuck.
He had your hair twisted in his fingers while he watched you block ole boy on everything single app you had. “Nuh uh. you ain’t done yet. Block him on spotify.” You were going to learn not to go seeking attention from anyone that wasn’t him.
“Nobody’s better than me mama. You should know better than that.”
༺Armin༻
————— BENT OVA.
You would never expect Armin to act the way he acts when he’s MAD.
Of course he got upset with you before but never something that made you change your view on him.
He always tried to be understanding, always listening to what you had to say and what was wrong. But, today was a little different.
He got so mad that you commented on how his friend looked good. He took it as you wanted his friend, but that wasn’t your intention at all.
“Ah, I see. Well just how good did he look y/n?! Why don’t you just tell him how much you want him to fuck you!” His insecurities were really starting to show. But damn, he just look so fucking hot with his button up shirt slightly undone, and his hair sticking to face. His eyes widened, it was a sexy sight. Armin could tell how turned on you were getting from him slightly raising his voice.
“Fuck—y/n. Stop looking at me like that.” The threw his keys on the table while shaking his head. Armin couldn’t look at you while your hand traveled up his shirt rubbing his abdomen. You were making it so difficult for him to be mad at you right now. Especially since you started begging for him to calm down and let you make him feel better.
The small tugs at his shirt just really got him going. He immediately bent you over on the couch, throwing your clothes everywhere. “Can’t even look at you. So fucking filthy.”
You tried to move away from him pounding your insides, hoping to get a break but no. “What the fuck did I tell you about that shit? Just fuckin take it.” Sluts didn’t deserve a break. They didn’t get that courtesy.
Eventually his hatred turned into love and he started spilling out how much he loved you while he was close to cumming. “I love you so much.” & “You mean the world to me.” & “Wanna make you a mommy.”
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Ah! tysm for 400!
#eyena writes♡#eren jeager smut#eren jeager x reader#eren x black fem!reader#eren x black reader#eren x reader#eren x y/n#eren smut#eren x you#eren yeager#armin x black reader#armin x y/n#armin x you#armin smut#armin fluff#armin x reader#plug connie#connie x black reader#connie smut#connie springer#aot connie#aot smut
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The two times Simon almost killed Price and the one time Price almost killed Simon
First off yall blew up this post and I’m actually speechless 🥺 I’ve also hit 1,000 followers (SKDJJWDJJEJW) and will be working on the surprise fic shortly. I was working on some birthday posts and wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly so might be a bit before it comes out.
Simon’s masterlist
1. When Simon was injured
Price called you to let you know that Simon was injured during an op and he would be fine but you should come get him from the base. Simon never lets you go to base and you knew if he was conscious, he would have an absolute fit and get a cab home. He’s a very private person and after what happened to his family, he’s not about to let you get anywhere close to work if he can help it.
You obviously know this but it’s Price who called you, not Simon. Price ends the call with ‘see ya soon, Mrs. Riley’ which simultaneously breaks your heart because you’re not his wife but also warms it. It also doesn’t give you a choice; you’ll be there whether you drive yourself or Price brings you.
The captain doesn’t tell anyone that you’re coming or who you are when you get there. He meets you at the entrance and escorts you in. Like a father might, he keeps you close to him as the two of you make your way across the base and to the clinic where Simon is resting. He wouldn’t let them send him off base to a hospital so they did what they could and he’s, of course, being difficult still.
The moment the others see you, their eyes widen because who is this? Why are you with Price? Why have they never seen you before? Are you his daughter? His niece? His controversially younger girlfriend? Who are you and why are you here of all places? You definitely scare the shit out of them let’s be real. You pull up looking like this and you’re with their captain.
You have an aura of unwavering confidence and a resting bitch face that rivals Ghost’s. They don’t get the chance to pester you because Price is quickly shoving you into the room where Ghost is at and giving them all the death stare.
Simon does a double take when he sees you with wide eyes but doesn’t make any other indication that he knows you. The poor nurse who’s filling out his release paperwork is petrified and he looks like he’s about to pass out. You narrow your eyes at Simon because clearly he’s been his usual asshole self and that’s why this nurse is about to pass out.
You give the nurse a small smile as you tell him your name and that you’re who’s going to be taking care of Simon. The man’s knees almost give out from relief and he word vomits all of the information you’ll need while handing you the paperwork in a shaking hand. You thank him and wait for him to leave before you finally look at Simon.
He’s got his mask on like you expected but you can still read his eyes. He’s pissed.
All you say is “You were shot.”
He nods once.
“I’m your emergency contact.”
He nods once again.
“You don’t get to be mad that I’m here. If anyone gets to be upset and act like a child, it’s me. I’m the one who had to find out from your captain that you got hurt so badly that you’re being put on temporary medical leave for 6 weeks.“
He doesn’t nod this time. He just stares. Eventually he sighs and looks at the ground.
“‘M sorry.”
You sigh as well and give him the hug he’s craving but won’t ask for. You press a kiss to the top of his masked head and rub his back.
“It’s alright, my love.” You murmur into his sweaty mask. “Let’s go home, yeah? The dogs have been driving me mental.”
Although it’s covered, you feel him smile. You feel it in the way his body relaxes under your touch and his arms tighten around your waist.
“Let’s go home.” He agrees.
The others are absolutely gobsmacked when they see you walk out with Ghost. He’s the same as he always is; guarded and on defense but there’s a softness in his eyes when he glances at you talking to Price. They have half a mind to ask about you but one sharp glance from Ghost keeps their mouth shut. Whoever you are, you’re the single most important person in the world to him and they’d be complete fools to even breath in your direction.
2. When Simon was home
Let’s just say that Simon was in a compromising position when Price called him to meet at the base in an hour.
Usually you’re the one in the restraints that are always on your bed butttttt you managed to convince him to switch places. Tonight he’s bound by the leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles. His eyes are squeezed shut and his head is buried into the pillow behind him. You’ve been teasing and edging this poor man for close to an hour. Kitten licks and light squeezes are all you’ve given him as you worship his strong body. Each scar on his body has been caressed, licked, and kissed by you. Every inch of him has been loved and adored by you…
expect for his cock.
You’ve been purposely ignoring it until you finally take him into your mouth. His release is fast approaching as you bob your head up and down. He’s moaning and whimpering. Then his work phone rings. The stupid phone he only uses when he’s working goes off and he’s never been so angry in his entire life. You pull off of him and he lets out the loudest groan known to man. You giggle at him as you fish it from the night stand and press it to his ear as you place yourself in his lap.
“Price the fucking king could be dead and that still wouldn’t be a good enough reason to call me right now.”
3. And the one time that Price almost killed Simon.
Ever since Price called you to base, he’s been keeping in touch with you. He’ll text you and call you every now and then to make sure you’re okay. Obviously you are; Simon is your…partner and you can handle yourself but he still likes to check in on you. He feels responsible for Simon as he’s his captain but also for you since you’re his whole world.
Moving on… the first deployment that Simon went on was rough. You were anxious as you usually were but this time was worse. He was hurt. He had been shot and even though he’d healed just fine, you couldn’t help but worry about him. On the other hand, Simon’s nightmares had made a comeback and he’d been waking up in cold sweats. One time you swore you saw Ghost rather than your adoring man. You’d told Price about it and made he swear to not say a damn word to Simon. He agreed but kept a watchful eye on his Lieutenant.
On the second night of their deployment, Price had gotten a rather short and strange text from you that read “keep him safe please.” It felt like a given that he did but something about this felt wrong. He called you and it took until the last ring for you to pick up. You were sobbing, hyperventilating, and wheezing into the phone when you answered. He couldn’t get a single coherent word out of you for the first 10 minutes but when he did, he saw red.
Apparently Simon had lost his mind and decided that it would be better if you weren’t together. You’d told Price that he told you some bullshit lie about how he wasn’t feeling it anymore and you should go find someone better. The captain was more pissed off that his Lieutenant had lied and immediately found him the moment you’d stopped crying.
“Riley!” Price shouts across from the landing strip. That sends alarm bells off in Simon’s head. It was Ghost or Lieutenant, never his name.
Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”
Simon can’t argue with him. He knows that what he did was wrong and Price is well within his right to act on his threat. Hell Simon was about to do it himself if it meant he could rewind time and take back what he said.
However he is still Lieutenant Ghost in this moment. He narrows his dark eyes at Price and slowly takes his hand off of his vest. Nothing but lethal silence fills the space between the two men. Bystanders are growing increasingly desperate for action, practically yipping like starving hyenas for a scrap.
“You have 30 seconds to get out of my sight.”
Price steps away and Simon disappears into the darkness. The hyenas howl in hunger around them, chattering about the unfairness of it all.
Simon calls you the moment he’s locked away in his room. He spends the next hour apologizing profusely to you and damn near begging you to wait for him. It’ll be a few weeks until he’s back but please…just wait for him.
#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost x female reader#ghost imagine#ghost call of duty#call of duty#call of duty imagine#ghost cod#cod x reader
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IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE BABY — FINNICKODAIR x FEM!READER
IN WHICH Finnick is interviewed by Caesar.
Caesar Flickerman greeted Finnick. Everyone in the audience stood up from their seats when he entered the stage, men chanted his name and women shouted for his attention. ―Thank you, thank you so much. ―Finnick smiled and waved to everyone in the audience who had welcomed him so warmly. He was especially handsome that night. The white shirt that your stylist had put on him had a large opening in the front that went down to almost his belly button, somewhat revealing for the Capitol but not vulgar at all. The bottom part of his outfit was a skirt that reached his ankles and the necklaces made with materials from your district rested on his neck.
From your place backstage you could appreciate how Finnick's green eyes shone under the spotlights. They also had that lovely glow when he saw you arrive at the back of the stage with your outfit. He wanted to tell you how pretty you looked, he wanted to help you relax before going on stage with Caesar. Finnick knew how uncomfortable those questions, often more private than they should be, made you. But it had been days since the last time you talked to him and you didn't have a Capitol camera on you, and that didn't seem to be the moment when you were going to speak to him again.
You had taken the opportunity to look him up and down when he was not aware of your presence. When his eyes fell on you, you acted unbothered, with a serious face and not paying attention to him for even a second. He was by your side with his hands behind his back minutes before he went onto the stage, you were paying attention to the tributes being interviewed but Finnick was looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
―You look great. ―Finnick dared to say. He didn't receive an answer from you, not even a look of disdain or a grimace. He pressed his lips together, defeated, and stretched the muscles in his back as the host introduced him.
You stayed backstage, watching him with your arms crossed and with still no expression on your face. The trip to the Capitol had been tense. Very tense on your part. Your hostile attitude hadn't made things easy for Finnick, your mentor Mags, and even yourself. From the instant your names came out through your stay at the tribute's hotel up to that moment, you had been avoiding Finnick. Mags had tried to bring you back to him, but you were pissed off. Pissed off with the Capitol for putting you in that arena with the love of your life, with Finnick for pretending that everything was okay, and with yourself for not letting them kill you in your first games.
You looked over your shoulder when a girl covered in white fabric appeared in your visual field. She came closer to you, accompanied by Effie who was constantly arranging her dress, and you rolled your eyes. ―A wedding dress. Of course. ―You pointed out loud enough for the girl to hear you.
You and that girl liked each other. Very similar personalities, highly challenging to the Capitol, difficult to contain for President Snow. You wouldn't say you two had a friendship but your encounters during training definitely could have been the beginning of one if you were not just a few days away from fighting for your lives in the games. Again.
―Snow made me wear it. ―Katniss confessed.
You looked up and down at her and nodded.― Make him pay for it.
―Finnick, it is an honor to have you here with us tonight. ― They both sat and Caesar grabbed both FInnick's hands, shaking them. The smile remained on Finnick's lips. ―We thought we would never have you back but we're so glad that we get to see you once again. Let's show some love to Finnick Odair, ladies and gentlemen!
At that moment the people in the audience applauded and shouted for him again. Your eyes were still focused on your partner, the boy was very relaxed, grateful for all the affection he was receiving from the people of the Capitol. Gosh, he was so good at pretending. At that moment your dress started to feel too tight and your stomach grumbled; was it because of the crappy food you'd been at the Capitol? Because of how tight was the dress around your body? Or was it because of how disgusted you felt with the person Finnick became when a Capitol camera focused on him? Even if you knew he was faking it, you didn't like seeing him like that.
―The pleasure is always mine, Caesar.
―Finnick, we saw that dramatic reaping day that took place on District 4 and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we lived it very intensely. ―Murmurs could be heard in the audience agreeing with the host. Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. ―First, your name comes out, ten years after your first victory, and then her name comes out and we can see how your expression changes completely. Look, look at that. ―The images from that day played on the big screens for the people to watch and you had to look away.
You swallowed and tensed your back, all the memories of that day came to your head unwantedly. His name. Your heart feeling heavy inside your chest. Him walking to the center of the stage with a smile on his lips. His eyes on you telling you to not worry. Your name. Gasps from the people of District 4. Finnick's jaw clenching. It became difficult for him to breathe. You walking to the center of the stage next to him with no smile on your lips. You shook hands. People clapped for you two.
―Are you okay? ―Katniss placed her hand on one of your shoulders and you nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing.
―People in District 4 love drama. ―A familiar voice said behind you two. The girl in her tree and wood-inspired outfit approached you and Katniss with a devilish smile on her lips. ―It's already done, girl. Your name came out already and you are here. Get yourself together. Snow is watching, don't embarrass yourself like this.
The relationship you had with Johanna Mason was complicated. You did consider her somewhat of a friend but sometimes she was too much. Finnick definitely knew how to deal with her better than you.
―We have been informed that she has expressly asked not to be here with you tonight, how does that make you feel?
―Well, it makes me feel sad, obviously. As everybody knows, she is a very special person to me and I think we could handle this situation much better together. Things have been difficult but I strongly believe we are the best allies, in and out of the arena. The love I have for her keeps me from having any negative feelings about her not wanting to sit with me here tonight, Caesar. I just hope that you all can enjoy her later.
―I'm sure we will have the best time with her. She's lovely, very lovely. ―People clapped. They loved Finnick. You could see it on their faces every time the boy opened his mouth, how they nodded their heads to everything he said, empathizing with him. In a way you were grateful for it, when the time came you knew they would rather save him. ―As you said, she'll be sitting here later and we know she's back there now, probably watching us and waiting for her moment. Finnick, is there anything you'd like to say to her?
Finnick nodded and acted for a few seconds as if he was looking for the words. As if he hadn't had this planned. ―My love, you have my heart. All eternity. And if I― if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.
―Oh, Finnick! You're going to make our hearts melt! When did you became such a loverboy?
―I've always been, Caesar.
They all laughed.
Johanna giggled and you ran your hand over your face. Maybe Johanna was right and the people of District Four were too dramatic. Katniss was left speechless, he and his ability to make those things sound natural surprised her. He reminded her of Peeta.
―Forgive me but I must ask because I know people are dying to know. Is everything okay between you two? Has the Quarter Quell been the cause of any couple crises?
People in the audience laughed again and so did Finnick. He didn't find it funny but laughed anyway which made you angrier.―No, that has not happened, no. We have had our ups and downs since that day, as you said, there have been a lot of emotions going on. We had plans for the future but we are trying to get through it.
―I'm sorry, Finnick, but you can't leave us like this. Plans for the future? Tell us more about that.
―We were trying for a baby.
That statement hit you like a big wave and swept you breathlessly to the seashore. You heard Johanna chuckling and Katniss, on the other hand, was as surprised and as confused as you were. People in the audience got up from their seats, demanding more information, asking if there was a wedding planned, and questioning if you were already pregnant.
―No we weren't. ―You mumbled getting the attention of the two girls who were with you. ―¡No we weren't! ― You tried to go on stage, angry like the sea during a storm and about to do something foolish that you would regret later and for which Mags would tell you off. Johanna was quick to step in front of you to prevent that from happening. Effie let out a little scream, seeing the scandal that was being made.
―Johanna, move.
The girl shook her head at you, smirking. That smirk. She knew all along.
―I'm not asking, Johanna. Move.
Johanna, again, shook her head at you.
―¡Ladies! Let's mind our manners and let's calm down. Please. ―Effie intervened, aware that there were people from the Capitol backstage watching. Katniss was behind you, silently rooting for Johanna to let you out.
―He knows Snow is not canceling the games. He's saving you.
―I do not need him to save me. I do not want him to save me. If I have come all this way, it is to save him.
Johanna smiled, mocking you. ―Well, he has gone ahead of you.
―What's going on? ―Peeta appeared and Effie jumped on his neck to fix the white suit he was wearing.
―She's pregnant. ―Johanna answered him.
―I'm not.
―Congratulations. ―The boy from District 12 told you sincerely.
―¡I'm not pregnant!
Seeing that people in the audience were not calming down after Finnick's news, Caesar mumbled something in the boy's ear. Unlike the rest of the tributes who had already been interviewed and who remained on the stage, Finnick was sent to the back of it.
―Girl from 4, you're next. ―A man from the staff announced and grabbed your arm. Caesar was distracting the audience while they got you ready to go out.
―Get off of me. I'm not going anywhere. ―You shook your body and managed to free yourself from the grip that was eager to push you on stage. You were still face to face with Johanna who had not taken a single step backwards and waiting for Finnick.
He said goodbye to the audience and walked to where you were. He knew what was waiting for him there, an even angrier you who would not understand why he had done that. All this time moving around the Capitol and with much of your relationship on display for everyone, and you still hadn't learned how to play the real game.
―I'll go for her. I'm ready. ―Peeta offered instead of you. The man seemed satisfied and before walking Peeta to the stage, he warned you that you would go after the boy from District 12 whether you liked it or you didn't.
Finnick walked with his head down. You were no longer interested in Johanna but you were surprised by the way she and Finnick shared a look of complicity when he passed by your side. His eyes never landed on you but they did on his friend. You turned around and walked after him. Your fists were close, your jaw was tight.
You pushed him by his shoulders, now it was Finnick who seemed unbothered. You pushed him again, trying to get any reaction but instead, he continued walking as if you did not affect it. He was calmed, he did what he thought it needed to be done. People in the Capitol will have mercy on you, you will have plenty of sponsors and you will make it out alive. But you didn't want that. You wanted him to be the last one standing, you had already discussed that with Mags. The woman assured you that she'd do anything in her power to get Finnick out alive. ―Why did you do that to me?! Who gave you the right to do that?! Finnick I swear to God if you don't speak to me right now!
―Oh, now you want to talk, don't you? What happens if now I don't feel like it? Would you like that? Would you like me ignoring you like you've been doing with me for the past days?
By the way his eyes looked at you and the way he had said it, practically spitting the words in your face, you knew he had been holding it in for days. You shook your head. ―It's not the same.
―Oh but it is. Trust me. You just don't want to see it. And for your information, it was Mags. She gave me the right.―He turned around and answered your previous question. ―Oh, you didn't expect that answer? Did you think you were the only one she’s made promises to?
You clenched your jaw. You did think that. Whatever she'd promised Finnick would contradict the promises she had made to you, so she was clearly fooling one of you two. And you knew it wasn't Finnick.
―You made me look weak!
―But you're not so why do you care? Right now you have more than half of those people in the palm of your hand. You could need the stupidest thing in the arena and they would send it to you without even thinking about it. They will make you the victor.
―I didn't want that! I didn't want that and you don't even care!
―You're right, I don't.
―You fucker. ―You threw yourself against his chest, hitting him with your small hands compared to his body. He was still standing on the spot while you beat him with tears in your eyes out of anger.
―Come on come on, give him a break. ―Haymitch, who had gone backstage to be with Katniss when he saw Peeta come out on stage, tried to separate you from Finnick by grabbing you around your waist.
―Why don't you save all that anger for when we're in the arena? It'll be better.
―Finnick! ―Effie said, shocked.
―I fucking hate you. ― You mumbled. While Haymitch managed to get you away from Finnick, your hands grabbed his shirt, he wasn't going to get off that easy, not after that comment. Your body shook against District 12's mentor.
―I could really use a helping hand right now, you know? ―Haymitch struggled to hold you. Katniss and Johanna freed Finnick from your grip and he left. You tried to go after him but obviously, you couldn't do anything against three people. As you continued to fight to free yourself from his grasp, Peeta's voice sounded louder over the loudspeakers, getting your attention.
If it weren't for the baby.
You looked at Katniss and she looked at you, still trying to process what had just come out of Peeta's mouth and trying to find a way of not going into that stage and choke him to death. Now you were going to be the one who was going to hold her down.
―Well, congratulations to you two. You are going to be amazing moms if you make it out of this one alive.
#finnick odair#finnick odair fluff#finnick odair angst#finnick odair smut#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick imagine#finnick odair imagine#the hunger games#the hunger games imagine#thg#thg finnick#thg imagine#tbosas#thg angst#thg fluff#finnick
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ᡣ𐭩 EAT IT 'TIL YOUR TEETH ROT!
FEATURING: dazai osamu, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, suehiro tecchou & jouno saigiku, nakahara chuuya
SUMMARY: oral with the bsd boys! (wordcount: 4k; ņsfw; fem!reader; lowercase intentional/notes app smut ahaha; more warnings at the start of each section!)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: plsss someone help me with this divider issue i beg, why can't i use dividers on my fics (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ i got carried away on chuuya's <.<
DAZAI OSAMU
fem!receiving, edging (650 wc)
your breath is shaky, eyes sliding shut as your thighs tremble, keeping them spread apart. one buck of your hips, your thighs clamping down around his head, even letting a moan spill from your lips, and you would lose.
dazai is having the time of his life. you can feel the way his lips curl up into a wide smile against your cunt, the tip of his tongue tracing circles between your folds. you long to bury your hand in his dark curls and force him down between your thighs, burying his face between your folds, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of winning again.
your breath catches as he flicks his tongue over your clit, lips parting in a silent moan. but instead of keeping the pressure on, dazai pulls back, brown eyes peering up at you through his lashes, deceptively innocent.
“did you say something?” he asks, leaning his cheek against your inner thigh as he watches you.
“osamu,” you warn, but your tone was far less threatening than you intend for it to be considering you’re breathless and it’s tinged with an embarrassing amount of neediness.
“bella,” he coos, “you’re making this so difficult for us both. just agree, and we’ll both get to feel good, yeah?”
difficult for us both, you want to scoff at his words. you can see the sick enjoyment thinly veiled beneath the faux-sympathy—he’s enjoying this, watching you squirm as he edges you over and over again, and that pisses you off even more.
but there isn’t much more of this you can take. your head feels hazy and your vision is blurry—if you look to the clock sitting on his desk, you know it would say it’s nearly seven o’clock, the sun setting long ago. the two of you have been at an impasse for nearly an hour now and-
“fine!” you spit out as dazai’s warm breath ghosts over your cunt again. “fine, i’ll do your goddamn paperwork, you lazy piece of-“
dazai doesn’t even hesitate, pressing his open mouth back against your cunt and sliding his tongue between your folds. this time, you let your thighs clamp down around his head and your hand fly down to grip his dark locks, pressing his face down impossibly closer against you as your back arches up off his desk.
dazai moans shamelessly against you, hands coming up to hold your thighs as he buries his face into your cunt, fucking his tongue deep into you once before sliding up to focus on your clit.
dazai is exceptionally good at using his tongue—usually, he uses it for nefarious means, like talking circles around kunikda until the man gets frustrated enough to storm off or antagonizing chuuya to the point of the port mafia executive erupting, but every once in a while, he puts it to good use.
like now.
you think it should be humiliating how quickly your hips are stuttering against his face, how you’re so quickly breathing out his name, how your mind becomes muddled and empty of anything but the feeling of his hands and his tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
“osamu,” you gasp. “osamu, i’m close, i’m-“
dazai sucks gently at your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud, and you’re gone. your jaw falls slack and your stomach tightens, hips jerking up and thighs tightening, as you come undone on his tongue.
he lets you ride out the waves of your high, tongue lazily sliding beneath your folds as he laps up all of your cum, careful not to let a single drop go to waste.
as soon as you‘ve mostly settled down, heart still racing and ears still ringing, he leans back.
his eyes are lidded and his cheeks are flushed pink, lips swollen and wet—utterly debauched as he stared up at you.
“one day, you’ll let me die between these thighs, bella.”
•••
FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY
male!receiving (850 wc)
you smile softly as you press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock, relishing in the way it instinctively jumps at your touch, reacting in a way that the cool and collected man above you certainly will not.
fyodor’s long, thin fingers toy with your hair as you nuzzle your nose into his thigh. he’s more focused on the computer screens in front of him that gives him a bird’s eye view of the events happening yokohama, but every once in a while you can feel the way his fingers pause in their ministrations, proving that you have a bit more of his attention than he’d care to admit.
“fedya,” you murmur, glancing up at him from where you’re kneeling but he barely spares you a glance, frowning at something on the screen.
you sigh dramatically, turning your attention back to where you had managed to free his cock from its confines. you never thought you’d describe a cock as pretty before you saw his for the first time, but it is. it stands tall and pale with a pretty, leaky pink tip that you can never stop yourself from poking at with your tongue, a vein on its underside that you can never stop yourself from tracing.
you hum softly as you lean in again to do just that, letting the tip of your tongue trace up the underside of his cock along the vein before letting your lips close gently around the tip of his cock, flattening your tongue against the beading precum.
fyodor’s thighs tense beneath your hands. your eyes gleam, peeking up to see him glancing down at you, an unreadable look in his purple eyes.
he doesn’t tell you to stop. so you don’t.
reverting your attention back to the job at hand, you let your eyes flutter shut as you take fyodor deeper into your mouth, lips sliding down his cock. your eyes water a bit as your throat adjusts to the stretch—taking fyodor all the way down your throat is always a struggle—but you hear the quiet noise that slips from his lips and immediately, you’re blessed with a newfound willpower because fyodor dostoevsky’s moans might be the prettiest sound in the whole world, and the rarest, but you are determined to hear them tonight.
“temptress,” you hear him sigh. “i indulge in you far too much.”
your hands slide against his thighs as you shift on your knees to get a better angle, and you feel his fingers slide against your hair, caressing you in a way that makes you want to melt into him.
you force your eyes back open as you lift your head up, watching as he tilts his head back, lips parted in a silent moan. you kiss up his length messily, and you think that you could spend an eternity on your knees in front of him worshipping his cock if it meant you’d be blessed with the symphony of his soft, breathy moans and gasps.
sinking your mouth back down around him, your tongue teases his slit before swirling around his length. you feel his cock twitch in your mouth, hips bucking slightly—and you know he’s close. you take him all the way down your throat, only sheer willpower stopping you from gagging around his length, but your efforts prove worthwhile when you hear a choked, obscene moan escape fyodor’s lips at the sudden feeling of your tight throat spasming around him.
his thighs tense again, fingers pressing just a bit more firmly against the back of your head as he spills his cum down your throat with no warning. you hum around him, swallowing every drop before pulling off of his cock with a pop, tongue darting out to lick your lips as you look up at him.
his expression is fond, if not a little flushed as he holds his hand out to you, beckoning you to join him on his chair.
you take his hand, letting him help you up from the floor and into his lap, and you shudder when you feel his cock slide against your panties as you settle against his chest, still half hard. you move to try to subtly grind your hips but his hands snap to your waist firmly, keeping you still.
he clicks his tongue in a chiding manner. “insatiable,” he murmurs, cool lips grazing your neck as he leans down to brush them against your skin. “but you have to wait this time, things are finally getting… interesting.”
you turn your head to the side to look over your shoulder at him, noticing that he’s watching one of the upper screens with rapt fascination. following his gaze, you see a timer counting down from two minutes, and his finger hovering over a button that you know will override the cancellation command should it be hit.
you lay your head down against his shoulder and mourn, because you think this is going to be the longest two minutes of your life.
•••
NIKOLAI GOGOL
fem!receiving, a bit of blood play and pain play, nikolai is so debauched & i love it (850 wc)
nikolai buries his face between your thighs like a man whose been starved for weeks. he’s sloppy, rough, ravenous. he bites your inner thighs so hard that you bleed, and then he licks it up, face smeared with a depraved mixture of spit, cum and blood.
your breath is shaky as he looks up at you with eyes that are so wide and adoring that it almost looks unfitting on such a crude scene. you reach down, fingers grazing his cheek, and he leans into your touch so instinctually that it makes you want to pull him up and devour him yourself—but instead, you press two fingers to his lower lip and watch as he takes them into his mouth, making a show of lewdly sucking them, eyes fluttering shut and tongue swirling around the digits. you press down hard on his tongue and he moans, high-pitch and whiny, hips instinctively jerking to grind against the bed.
pulling your fingers back from his lips, nikolai doesn’t hesitate as he drops his head back down between your thighs. you let out a breathy sigh as he licks back along the bite on your thigh, lapping up the blood that had spilled while he was sucking your fingers.
your head falls back against your pillow as nikolai drags open mouthed kisses up your thigh to your cunt, eyelids heavy and lips parting. you gasp, feeling nikolai’s tongue sweep between your folds.
the grip he has on your thighs borders on painful, and you know you’ll have marks in the shape of his fingerprints decorating them in the morning, but it feels good—the bruising grip, the stinging wound on your inner thigh, the feeling of his tongue circling your clit and his lips sliding against your cunt. he’s so messy, so eager, that you can barely think straight.
your fingers twist the sheets beneath you, back arching up off the bed as your hips jerk when nikolai sucks your clit—always playing the dangerous game with his teeth as he lets them graze the sensitive bud, just enough to let a shock run through your body.
he moans against you, loud and obscene as one of your hands fly from the bed to his hair while the other swings to cover your mouth, muffling the noise that nearly slipped through your lips.
a mistake, of course, because nikolai’s instantly reaching up to grab your wrist, pinning it down to the bed next to you. he doesn’t look up at you, too focused on fucking his tongue deep inside of you, nose nudging your clit. your thighs instinctively tighten around his head and you glance down when you hear him let out another muffled groan, this one even more whiny than the last, taking on a lilt that it only takes when he’s close to release, you can tell even with his face buried in your cunt.
“oh, fuck,” you breathe out, eyes widening when you see nikolai grinding his hips against the bed, desperate and erratic, trying to get himself off in time with you.
the sight of it sends a shock through your body, a gasp escaping your lips as you press the back of your head into the pillow, lashes fluttering and thighs trembling on either side of his head. you can feel heat spread through you like a wildfire, your hips instinctively jerking up to grind hard against his face. your wrist strains against his ironclad grip, squirming as his tongue drags in and out of your cunt over and over again.
he pants against you, wanton and shameless, hips snapping against the bed faster, each thrust timed perfectly with his tongue plunging in and out of you. your vision feels blurry and your thigh muscles burn as he tongue fucks you closer and closer to release.
you try to tell him that you’re close, head falling to the side and saliva pooling at the corner of your lips—your head feels foggy and your body feels hit. the lewd sound of his moans and the creaking of the bed and the sloppy, wet sound of his tongue driving in and out of you, swiping up between your folds, flicking over your clit, it’s all too much for you. you can’t keep up. you’re pretty sure the warning comes out as a garbled slur of incomprehensible words.
your entire body seizes when you cum, thrashing in his hold, your free hand flying up to grab the pillow behind your head as you cry out his name. distantly, you realize that he must have cum too, you can feel the way his hips still against the bed after one last frantic thrust, you can hear the pornographic moans muffled against your cunt—god, he’s shameless, you think again as you lay limp against the bed, reeling from your intense orgasm.
in your half-dazed state, you feel nikolai rest his cheek you thigh and say: “quiz time!” and you swear you might just suffocate him down there next time.
•••
JOUNO SAIGIKU & SUEHIRO TECCHOU
male!receiving, face fucking, jouno's a bit mean & guides you through it, 'princess' pet name (600 wc)
“that as deep as you can go?”
jouno has the nerve to sound disappointed as you struggle to take tecchou’s cock down your throat. you want to glare at him, or spit out a vile string of words that would put his mouth to shame, but you can barely even breathe with your lips and throat being stretched like this.
your nails are biting into tecchou’s tense thighs as you try to keep yourself steady, and you can hear the man breathing heavy above you, his own fingers digging into the edge of the bed he’s sitting on as if he’s afraid to touch you.
you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, focused on trying to take tecchou deeper because the last thing you want is to give jouno something else to lord over your head.
“c’mon, princess.” the sweet pet name sounds so degrading and insulting the way jouno says it. you hear his heels clicking against the floor as he makes his way over to the two of you, dread builds in the pit of your stomach as you feel his familiar, thin fingers entangle in your hair, pressing gently against the back of your head. “i taught you better than this.”
“jouno-“ tecchou tries to say. you hardly have a chance to relish in how utterly broken the strongest hunting dog sounds above you, voice breathy and cracking over your boyfriend’s name, because in an instant, jouno’s fingertips are digging into the back of your scalp as he pushes your head down hard, forcing your nose to tecchou’s pelvis.
your throat spasms at the sudden intrusion, choking and gagging, trying to pull off but jouno’s far too strong for that to be successful. tears spill over your cheeks and your body trembles as you try to adjust but you can’t because tecchou let’s out a strangled gasp as his hips jerk up instinctually, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat hard.
you can’t breathe, you realize, panicked as black dots swarm your vision. you try to reach back and slap off jouno’s arm but that only spurs him on more. he pulls your head back, making you think he’s going to give you a bit of relief, only to push it back down instantly. cruel. he’s always so cruel.
your nails drag against tecchou’s thighs, leaving deep red lines in their wake as you struggle to remain conscious. you feel pricks and pins all over your body, your head feels fuzzy.
distantly, you can hear tecchou’s obscene moans and garbled words and you wish you have more awareness because you want to be able to remember this. it’s not everyday you have the meteor slasher crumbling beneath your touch and god knows when, or if, jouno will let this happen again.
it feels like it’s been an eternity and a second all at once when tecchou’s hips finally stutter and still against your mouth, spilling his cum deep down your throat. you barely even hear his choked warning before the warm, thick liquid is coating the inside of your throat.
you struggle to swallow, and you think you must look disgusting as jouno finally lets you lift your head from tecchou’s cock and you crumple against his leg, clutching at the red material of his pants to try and hold yourself up—but tecchou looks at you with such a devoted expression that it makes you hot and flustered, and jouno’s fingers are carding gently through your hair as if to make up for the roughness.
“lay down.” you hear him say to tecchou, voice sharp and commanding. “now it’s her turn.”
•••
NAKAHARA CHUUYA
male & fem!receiving (69), face fucking, 'doll' and 'baby' pet name (1.1k wc)
you aren’t sure how chuuya managed to convince you to do this.
your thighs tremble on either side of his head, straining to not drop all of your weight on his face as you lean forward over his lithe body, lips hovering above his cock. you feel him pinch your outer thigh hard and you yelp, body jerking instinctively.
“c’mon, doll,” chuuya coos, trying to coax you into lowering your hips so that you’re sitting on his face, rubbing your thighs soothingly. “you know i can handle it. relax.”
his tone is soft, but you can hear the edge to it, almost as if he sounds insulted over the fact that you don’t trust in his capabilities and you would roll your eyes if you weren’t so nervous.
“i don’t want to suffocate you,” you snap at him, thigh muscles already burning painfully.
“don’t piss me off.” chuuya’s temper finally starts to waver after five minutes of trying to make you relax. his words are biting, as if your fears are utterly ludicrous. “stop holding yourself up or i’ll make you stop.”
“chuuya,” you complain, a bit more pathetically this time.
chuuya doesn’t even deign you with a response this time. you gasp when you feel his arms hook around your thighs, toned biceps tensing as he physically forces you down on his face. your eyes shoot open, lips parting in a silent moan when he immediately buries his face into your cunt, tongue licking a blazing stripe between your folds.
“chuuya,” you cry when you feel his lips close around your clit, rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth gently.
chuuya hums around you, the vibrations making your abdomen coil and your hips unconsciously grind down against his face. he jerks his hips up, as if he’s impatient, and you vaguely remember what you’re supposed to be doing, laying a wet, open-mouthed kiss against his length.
you can hardly think straight as chuuya’s tongue swirls around your clit, heat spreading through your body rapidly. it takes three attempts, but you’re finally able to wrap your lips around the tip of chuuya’s cock, the familiar taste of his precum overwhelming your senses.
you try to focus on sliding your lips down his length—a difficult endeavor considering chuuya is evidently doing his best to make it impossible for you with how he plunges his tongue into your hole, one hand sliding up your thigh so he can press his thumb against your clit.
your head feels light and airy, and with a bit of diluted horror, you realize you might be close to cumming already—with the taste of chuuya on your tongue, the sound of him groaning against you, the feel of his tongue and fingers working deftly to bring you closer to release, it’s almost too much for your body to handle.
you don’t even realize that you’re barely sucking him off until chuuya gets impatient, this time snapping his hips up so abruptly that he drives his cock halfway down your throat. your eyes shoot open, a muffled moan spilling from your lips at the unexpected action, because chuuya is hardly ever forceful when you give him head, always letting you take the lead.
“fuck,” chuuya breathes out, gasping as he kisses your thigh, panting for air before he dives right back in. “you liked that, didn’t you? want me to fuck your face, baby? felt you tighten ‘round my tongue.”
you don’t respond—can’t really. chuuya’s hips snap up again, forcing his cock deeper down your throat, your lips flush to his pelvis, his tip shoved down the back of your throat. you gag around him, tears spilling over your cheeks as your nails dig into his thighs, trying to adjust to his length stretching you.
“so fucked out already that you can’t even do one job,” he sighs softly, lifting his head to ghost his lips back against your clit, your entire body shivers as you let out a muffle sob around his cock. “s’okay, doll, i’ll do all the work.”
he hardly gives you a second to process his words, not that you’d be able to even if he did give you the time. you’re choking over him as he thrusts his hips up again, fingers digging into your ass cheeks as he drags you back down so he can smother himself in your cunt.
your head feels foggy—you’re not sure if it’s from lack of air and the feeling his cock bullying your throat and his hips rutting against your face, or if it’s from the way chuuya’s tongue is drawing circles around your clit so quickly that you can barely keep up, dragging between your folds to fuck deep inside of you before repeating the process over and over and over again.
you’re so gone. you’re so gone, you can’t think straight, your body feels like its on fire, thighs straining around his head, chuuya is moaning against you, thrusts erratic and frenzied as he chases his release. you’re still sputtering around him, your face must be a mess of drool and cum, and you think you might be cumming already, you can’t tell, you’re trying to focus on getting him off but he wasn’t lying when he said he’d do all of the work, you can scarcely even flatten your tongue along the vein that runs on the underside of his cock.
you don’t need to though, because the moment chuuya feels you moaning his name around his cock with your cum staining the lower half of his face, his hips stutter and still against your face, cumming so deep down your throat that you genuinely think you might drown in it.
you should pull off of him, you’re struggling to breathe through your nose, your vision is spotty, but your limbs won’t cooperate with you, laying limp on—you wonder if you’re about to pass out.
luckily, chuuya still seems to have enough sense for the both of you.
he reaches down, hands wrapping around your waist so he can twist you around so that you’re laying comfortably on his chest. still desperately trying to recover from your orgasm, you settle against him, listening to the steady thrum of his heart as you try to ground yourself.
“see, baby.” his chest rumbles gently as he speaks lowly, a comforting familiarity, you’re still so out of it that you find yourself starting to dose off. you can hear the soft smile on his face as he tilts his head down to ghost his lips against your hair. “not so bad, was it? don’t be so nervous next time.”
#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives#bsd x reader#bsd smut#dazai smut#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai osamu smut#fyodor smut#fyodor x reader#chuuya smut#nikolai smut#nikolai x reader#jouno smut#jouno x reader#jouno x you#nikolai x you#chuuya x reader#chuuya x you#nakahara chuuya smut#nakahara chuuya x reader#saigiku jouno smut#tecchou suehiro smut#nikolai gogol smut#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs smut#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x you#tecchou x you#tecchou smut#tecchou x reader
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Heartless Pt. 4
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.
“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.
Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”
“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.
“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.
Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.
“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.
Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.
-
You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’
The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.
You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.
You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.
Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?
You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.
In the garden.
-
Miguel heard a gunshot.
It reverberated in his ears.
More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.
His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.
But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.
You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….
Miguel frowned.
The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.
“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.
Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.
Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?
Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.
You were really fuckable.
Extremely fuckable.
It was an objective statement.
But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.
“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.
-
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#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara smut#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara
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PEOPLE TOLD ME ABOUT THE FLAMES, I COULDN’T SEE THROUGH THE SMOKE — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
cw some kind of college au/boarding school au? this used to be for rodeo station and now just... exists on its own, friends to lovers, megumi has toji and satoru as father figures so are we surprised that he’s a bully and doesn’t really grow out of that phase… anyway, apologies to muta and miwa, 1.3k words
Nobara makes a poor effort to stifle her laughter as Kokichi stomps up to stand in front of you, hair and clothes drenched in chocolate milk, shoes sloshing with each step, and the bandage on the side of his cheek peeling from the wetness.
When you look up at him, you’re unimpressed, and unsurprised, so you resume annotating your lecture notes as if you weren’t interrupted. If Kokichi wanted to stand in a puddle of dripping milk, then so be it—you should have finished your notes yesterday, and you couldn’t get through your other tasks without catching up first.
“Look, I already said I was sorry. I shouldn’t have kept bothering you for your number when you’d already said no,” Kokichi starts, wiping dripping milk from his chin, “Now, will you please call off your guard dog.”
You don’t reply immediately, focused on finishing the last paragraph of the page, much to Kokichi’s dismay, and Nobara’s amusement. He huffs at your silence, frustrated and humiliated, but there’s nothing for him to say or do until you respond. Maybe that’s something he should have considered when he kept trying to talk to you in class. Still, even now, you’re not ignoring Kokichi to embarrass him or string him along; you just want to finish your godforsaken anthropology homework.
“You seem to be under the impression that I can make Megumi start or stop doing anything,” you sigh, put your highlighter down, and tiredly look up at Kokichi, “But I regret to inform you that you’re wrong.”
Kokichi’s nose scrunches in disbelief, an angered hand coming to wave in front of his face, but his dripping clothes result in splashes to his face—and further laughter from Nobara. He sighs out of frustration, trying to put away his pride, but Nobara’s giggling and your nonchalant attitude are really making it difficult for him to take this in stride.
“Okay, you’re fucking with me—and I deserve it, alright? But, Todo already gave me a fucking lecture, Mai won’t look at me, and Megumi is going to rip and stain every single shirt I own at this point.”
“That sounds like your problem,” Nobara snickers, rolling her eyes when Kokichi gives her a glare.
“I'd love to help, Muta, but this is out of my control,” you loll, capping your marker, “Maybe try apologizing to Megumi instead of dripping chocolate milk over notes and shoes.”
“Eh? The hell am I apologizing to him for?”
“You’re the one who pissed him off—how should I know?” you sigh, sliding your pens and markers into your bag, and closing your folder.
Nobara pipes in to taunt, “You’d better figure it out soon, though. I hear they’re serving spaghetti tomorrow, and that definitely stains.”
You swear you hear Kokichi growl, but it only makes Nobara laugh harder. The two of them together is a bad combination—Kokichi is easily aggravated, and Nobara easily aggravates. You’re certain that if Megumi weren’t already on his ass, Nobara would have stepped in to bully him just for the fun of it.
Still, you’d rather not have to testify on either of their behalf, so you bid Kokichi a goodbye, offering him your best advice about cleaning milk stains out of white shirts, and drag Nobara by the arm before she can make another quick quip to finally make him snap.
She’s still laughing at Kokichi’s expense all the way back to your dorm, “As much as I like seeing Megumi pummel Muta, he’s definitely gonna get written up, at the very least, if he keeps it up. Just tell him you’re not mad about it anymore, and he’ll piss off.”
You stuff your hands into your pockets, “I don’t control megumi. I didn’t tell him to egg Muta’s car, and pour milk all over him. ”
“Like hell you don’t,” Nobara scoffs, “Kokichi was right about one thing—Megumi’s a doberman on a leash and you’re his owner.”
“I didn’t even tell him that Kokichi kept asking for my number. I’m pretty sure Todo told Yuuji, and Yuuji told Megumi.”
“Yeah, that’s almost worse,” Nobara huffs, “He’s just moved to protect you out of undying loyalty—it must be nice to have a knight in shining armor. Does he call you ‘my liege,’ when you’re alone? He might as well bow down and kiss your shoes with the way he worships the ground you walk on.”
You know Nobara is teasing. The rhetoric that you have influence on Megumi isn’t new to you, but it’s always confusing for you to hear. You’ve known Megumi since grade school, and one thing you’re certain of is that he does things of his own conviction, and when he’s decided something, there’s little anybody can do to convince him otherwise. He’s the true definition of steadfast, and sometimes you wonder if his beliefs have inadvertently made him gain masochistic tendencies, because you’ve seen Megumi suffer in pain just to prove a point.
“Megumi’s his own person, and he’s not easily influenced,” you chuckle, “If anything, he’s more of an attack dog—he bites whenever he sees something he doesn’t like.”
“In any case, he’s your dog,” Nobara shrugs. She pauses for a moment, skipping to catch up to you with a scrunch to her face, “I change my mind though, he’s definitely not scary enough to be a doberman. What are the puffy ones—the really small ones that yap a bunch?”
“Pomeranians?”
She lights up—“Yeah, that’s way more fitting! Plus, he’s got spiky hair like those little mutts, a really bratty, spoiled one too. Gojo probably kept him in his Birkin as a kid.”
You giggle as Nobara searches for an image to compare to one of Megumi. She goes as far as to make a collage and send it in your group chat for approval, instantly getting a rave reaction from Yuuji, and predictably, no response from Megumi.
Nobara walks you back halfway to your dorm, leaving you on your own to head to the gym to meet up with Yuuji. When you get back to your room, you’re not surprised to already see Megumi inside, sitting snugly on your worn-in couch with a book in hand. It’s Wednesday, so he only had morning classes, and prefers to spend his afternoon studying in solace, usually taking advantage of your larger, empty room to get his work done. He gives you a small wave, enraptured in his reading, and you know better than to try and disturb him, so you take your place on the opposite side of the couch with the remainder of your notes in hand, finally having the peace and quiet to finish your annotations.
Megumi finishes his chapter before you’re done, but he waits for you, quietly scrolling on his phone so as not to interrupt you. You don’t face him when you speak, keeping your eyes on your notes, and simply stating, “Kokichi apologized.”
You hear him hum. you know he’s looking at you, but you don’t meet his gaze, and do your best to bite back a smile before he asks, “You forgive him?”
You finish your annotations with a final asterisk at the bottom of your page, so you cap the marker, and finally turn to face Megumi. He doesn’t ask a second time, even as you silently observe him, even if your smile is confusing to him.
“I wasn’t ever really upset,” you explain, “It was annoying, but he wasn’t harassing me or anything.”
He hums again, but it’s not agreeing. “Tsumiki is gonna get mad if you get suspended.”
Megumi calls your bluff with his hum this time, and you sigh. Tsumiki won’t get mad, because Megumi would never get suspended, not as long as Gojo is around as headmaster.
Megumi turns his body inward, raising an arm to rest his elbow against the cushion of the couch. He lolls his head to rest against his palm, cheek squished, and almost mischievous glimmer in his eye. In this light, you see Nobara’s argument—with sleep-tousled hair and expectant eyes, Megumi looks an awful lot like a puppy waiting for a command.
It’s cute, until you realize that Megumi is awaiting your command. Is he?—why would he, he’s never been known to listen, and yet, you’re tempted to see if you truly do have him on some proverbial leash, like everyone else seems to believe.
“Megumi,” you call, softly, “He’s learned his lesson, and I’m fine, alright? Leave him alone.”
Megumi blinks slowly. His features soften, only for a moment, before he’s turned away from you to pick up his book again. He doesn’t respond verbally, doesn’t touch on the topic for the rest of the evening that you both spend studying in your room, but the following day, you walk past Kokichi and Miwa heading into their chemistry lab, and notice a distinct lack of milk or food residue on his clothing or in his hair, so there isn’t anything more to be said.
Megumi is waiting outside of your lecture hall after your last class of the day, offering you a carton of strawberry milk—unopened, and un-thrown. You accept it, reaching up to ruffle his hair as a thank you, and you’re surprised when you feel him move into your touch. He dips his head down a bit further, gently knocking it against yours before straightening up with a sly smile. He nods his head, wordlessly, and turns towards your dorm, ready to walk you back.
You follow, dazed, as you stab the straw into your milk. You’re a half-step behind Megumi, head clouded with confusing new daydreams about the boy in front of you, and now you can’t help but to wonder if you’re the one left to follow Megumi’s whim, or if he’s just pulling you by his own leash.
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#megumi smut#megumi fluff#jjk imagines#jjk scenarios#gojo x reader#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk fake texts#jjk smau
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Yandere! Gyutaro NSFW Profile
Yandere! Gyutaro x fem! reader
Tw: non-con, dub-con, stalking, kidnapping, Gyutaro threatens a couple to let him watch them have sex, exhibitionism, masturbation, period sex, spitting, minor implications of somnophilia, mentions of physical violence, threats, murder, Gyutaro is a freak and likes to hold your hand during sex, fem reader, MDNI
I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!
WC: 13K
HABITS:
Generally speaking, Gyutaro has never really touched himself. Perhaps when he was younger, still a human and going through puberty, but for the vast, vast majority of Gyutaro’s life, his demon biology has rendered every sexual urge he feels dulled to the point of disappearing.
That said, he’s still able to grow jealous at hearing when human partners are intimate with one another, their moans and cries grating on his ears and making him scowl, anger simmering in his veins because why can’t he have that?
Sure, he could find some random human woman and take what he wants from her, but there’s something about the way humans clutch onto one another, moaning out praises and begging for more that enticing Gyutaro, making him feel shy and bashful and pissed because he knows that will never be him. He’ll never have a woman gasping his name in anything other than fear, and although he’s accepted it, he’s wildly jealous.
However, because his actual sexual urges themselves are diminished, Gyutaro more often finds himself jealous than horny – a stark difference between the two. And consequently, he has minimal experience with masturbation, and he frankly doesn’t care. His logistical situation with Daki makes finding the time to touch himself in his own private space extremely difficult. Plus, there’s something awfully pitiful about wrapping his fingers around his cock with the knowledge that they’ll only ever be his fingers, no one else’s – something that makes him warble and scratch himself bloody, effectively killing any libido he’d managed to feel.
But with all of that said, things begin changing once his infatuation with you develops. He’s not immediately wishing to fuck you, but as Gyutaro becomes more comfortable with the idea of intimacy with you, lewd thoughts start tainting the edges of his mind, turning the relatively innocent fantasy of cuddling with you into grinding against your ass, grasping your thigh and lifting it up just barely so that he can slot himself inside, breathing hard into your ear and growling, the sound throaty and heady and so very needy.
And really, is that so unnatural?
Sure, his libido isn’t the strongest, but imagining the woman he thinks he’s in love with to be naked and laid out underneath him isn’t out of the ordinary, right?
He’s sure all men think about the depraved thoughts that start worming their way into his imagination – they’re mostly questions, really, tying into his obsessiveness and desperation to learn as much about you as he possibly can.
He’s idly wondering how you sound when you moan – is it airy, high-pitched, low, gasping?
How do you look when you come? Does your face scrunch up, does your mouth drop open, do you close your eyes, does your back arch, do you curl your toes, do you reach out and grasp at anything you can find?
What’s your favorite position? He’d be willing to try all of them if you’d like, if you’re unsure – Gyutaro secretly thinks his own favorite will be having you on top, your pretty tits mere inches from his lips and giving him a perfect view of both your own face and your cunt sucking him in again and again and again, the sight making him dizzy with pleasure and forcing him to grasp your hips and fuck up into you, just to hear you gasp and moan and scream his name.
Have you ever squirted? He hopes no man has ever touched you at all, much less made you squirt, but Gyutaro swears he’ll get you to do it – he wants to feel your release all over his face, coating his fingers, tongue, chin, and cock, smeared across every inch of his skin and worn proudly.
Do you like to be praised or degraded, and do you like your lovers vocal? Gyutaro sure hopes so, because he knows he won’t be able to shut up when he’s buried balls deep inside you, your wet, warm, tight walls clenching down on him and forcing curse after groans out of him, practically milking him for both his cum and his moans. He wouldn’t mind praising or degrading you – what naturally slips out of his mouth when he’s fucking his fist is a healthy mix of both, imagining you in front of him and calling you my perfect slut or something of the sort.
Do you groom yourself, keeping everything perfectly smooth and shaved, or do you let nature takes its course? He hopes it’s the latter – he wants to relish in your scent, to bury his face between your legs and inhale deeply, getting a nose full of you, something made much easier when your hair and pheromones are tickling his cheeks.
(While he prefers you to not shave, Gyutaro himself will try to clean himself up routinely – starting way before he steals you away, just so that he can learn how to do it, to make sure he knows how to so that he doesn’t embarrass himself the first time you see him naked. The thought already embarrasses him enough – to have his body open to your scrutiny, to feel you looking at him, and he really doesn’t need the extra stress. Luckily for him, his quick regeneration means no accidental knicks with the razor knife last long – unfortunately, it also means that any cut hair regrows almost instantaneously, much to his displeasure. He’s hopeful you won’t be too disgusted by his pubes the first time you see him – though the dark hairs do a good job of framing the very, very long cock hanging between his legs.)
Quite honestly, he stalks you with such intensity and consistency that he’ll know the answer to many of these questions before long – he's memorized how you look when you come, your face ingrained into his brain and flashing behind his eyelids when he’s orgasming himself. But it’s different to be thinking about something like that – something so naughty. Gyutaro spends his time idly wondering these questions, a pale pink blooming on his cheeks because it’s just so dirty and you’re so very sweet, and thinking of you in such a lewd light almost makes him feel guilty.
Almost, because then he sees you, hiding from the shadows and getting the smallest whiff of your scent every few seconds, and then suddenly all guilt is gone because fuck, he needs you.
However, Gyutaro is still oddly shy about certain things with you. As such, when he first begins fantasizing about fucking you, there’s that small, annoyingly human part of him that worries if you’ll find him revolting once he’s fully nude in front of you, vulnerable to your facial expressions and any words of negative reaction.
He’s terrified, really, that you’ll find him unattractive or too repulsive to sleep with. He wants you to want him, to need him as he needs you, and if you were to call him ugly, a monster, anything of the sort? Well, it would take the demon a long, long time to recover from such a blow to his heart, old wounds tearing open fresh to endure another bout of pain.
And so, in a panicked and a frantic attempt to avoid any negative criticism from you once your intimate relationship begins, Gyutaro decides that he needs to learn more about actual sex, not just the crude, vulgar words he hears from the human men around him. If he wants to have any hope at making you actually enjoy sex with him (something he desperately, desperately wants), Gyutaro feels that he needs to see the real thing, to observe carefully and take notes.
Luckily, it’s not particularly hard to find a coupling around the Entertainment District, sneaking across roofs and peeking into windows until he hears moans and slapping sounds and sees writhing bodies and smells the musty, acrid odor of sex. And once he does, Gyutaro is quick to step down into the room, his presence casting a shadow against the moonlight and candle light of the room, the couple immediately stopping and staring at him in fear.
Before either person has a chance to scream, Gyutaro’s rushing forward, a hand covering each mouth and a sneer on his face as he tells the man that he’s so lucky, having a pretty woman to fuck every night… show me.
The man’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head underneath Gyutaro’s hand, causing the demon’s sneer to fall into a scowl. He needs to see this couple make love – he needs tips and advice, to see how it really goes. Plus, the woman’s body is somewhat similar to yours – perhaps you have similar spots that feel particularly good, and Gyutaro will take any and every scrap of information and ideas he can in order to make eventual sex with you good.
Anything to get you moaning his name and pulling at his hair and begging him for more.
Let me watch you fuck her, or I’ll kill you both. What’s your choice, huh? Gyutaro holds eye contact with the man, watching him debate, feeling the woman trembling and crying under his other hand.
His eye twitches – damn this man for loving the woman, because his slight hesitation in answering means he doesn’t want Gyutaro to see her nude, vulnerable, exposed, and it’s making Gyutaro imagine someone propositioning him this about you. Violent images of how he’d slaughter and kill whoever was threatening to see you moaning and gasping and naked flash through his mind, making him grit his teeth and press against their mouths harder.
At that, the man frantically nods yes, and Gyutaro snickers. Eh, you bastard, letting me watch you touch your woman? Pathetic, man, pathetic.
He takes his hands off their mouths, bracing himself for any screams, but when none come he smiles – a mean, twisted smile. I want to see everything, you know? Start over, act like I’m not here. I’m just watching, so give me a good show but be natural! I’ll kill you if you’re not natural.
Gyutaro scratches at his chest as he settles back against a wall on the side of the room, watching as the couple shakily sits up. The woman is still crying, but the man cups her cheek in his palm, swallowing hard, before slotting his lips against hers. The woman immediately begins kissing him back, the motions slow and hesitant.
Gyutaro growls, his voice forceful as he tells them to kiss harder, I’ll cut off your lips if you don’t.
That gets the two of them moving faster, the audible wet noises as her tongue slips into his mouth making Gyutaro lick his lips. It’s all too easy to imagine you in the woman’s place and him in the man’s, his hand sitting at your breast just as the man’s is, idly squeezing and playing with her nipple. They spend a few more moments kissing, before the man carefully pushes the woman back, laying her down with her legs spread over, her hands held over her head.
They’re still kissing, and Gyutaro’s hand snakes down to cup at his bulge, the idea of wet noises and hovering over you making his breath short. He’s watching them seemingly without blinking, reaching down past the top hem of his pants and firmly clutching at this balls, squeezing harshly and making him hiss through his teeth as the man shimmeys down, kissing and licking at the woman’s breasts.
She keens, biting her lip and trying to not look at Gyutaro, the man using his thumb and index finger to roll her nipple, pinching and tugging while flicking his tongue over its twin. Gyutaro pulls his hands out of his pants briefly to spit into his palm, hand slithering back into his pants and gripping the base of his cock in a death grip.
He’s painfully hard at this point – the man’s head is suddenly between the woman’s thighs, and Gyutaro’s moving forward before he can even think about, still gripping himself under his pants as he nears the bed, wanting an up-close view of the man’s actions. They both tense at this, but Gyutaro scoffs.
Keep going, yeah? Just needed a better view.
The man swallows but obeys, tongue flicking out to lick a long stripe from her folds up and over her clit, making her sigh. Soon his tongue is flicking out and licking at the small bud, fingers pulling up to expose the area and make access easier. Gyutaro mentally notes that away – he knows women like when men play with their clit, and perhaps you’d be impressed by his knowledge of this, or the way he’ll pull your lips up, just so he can fully see that pretty, throbbing pearl on you.
The man’s free hand moves up to run a few fingers through her folds, his fingers suddenly soaking wet and glistening in the moonlight. Gyutaro licks his lips – god, he wants to taste you so bad, his tastebuds tingling and his mouth literally salivating at the thought of tasting your lips, what’s between your legs, even your tears. Gyutaro’s hand slowly moves up, hand slicked with spit lessening the friction and making him lowly groan. The man slips a finger inside her, the woman’s small moan making the man’s brows twitch together.
Gyutaro’s careful to watch the man’s pacing – his tongue is licking steady, consistent circles over her clit, while his fingers are thrusting slowly, carefully, adding a second finger after a few moments. Would you like the same pacing? Gyutaro’s not sure, but the hand not diligently pumping at his cock beneath his pants mimics the same finger motion as the man, his tongue slipping out to mimic licking small circles. He matches the man’s pace, wide yellow eyes slowly starting to go half-lidded from the pleasure of his fingers wrapped around his girth.
Tell me what feels best, woman.
He’ll snarl, keeping an eye on the way the man tenses up but doesn’t stop his actions. The woman’s flushed, her eyes darting to him before quickly looking away.
When – ah, when he curls his fingers up, fuck, and little circles on – oh! She cuts herself off with a moan, and Gyutaro (irritated that she didn’t finish but too focused on her instructions) repeats the words over and over in his head, modifying the hand motion he’s practicing to closely resemble her descriptions.
His fist moves a bit faster, creating a deft thump motion each time his fingers bump into his navel. The sound of the man fingering the woman is so, so very lewd, too – it’s wet, a squelching noise that makes Gyutaro drool, the idea that you’d be that wet making his throat dry, his hips bucking forward against his fist involuntarily.
Fuck her, now, ngh…
The man gulps, wiping the woman’s slick off of his lips and chin, and Gyutaro feels a particularly large glob of precum dribble from his tip, the extra lubrication making his pleasure just that much sharper.
Start over her.
He instructs as the man moves to hover over her, nodding at the demon’s words and slotting himself between her legs. Gyutaro watches intently as the man grips the base of his cock, aligning his tip with your hole, pushing forward and letting his eyes roll to the back of his head. Gyutaro sucks in a sharp breath – would you feel that good inside? He's sure you would; you’re so pretty and sexy, of course you have the best cunt. He bets it’s incredibly warm, wet enough to leave his cock, navel, and upper thighs coated in no time, and god you’d be so fucking tight, gripping him hard enough to make pulling out of you nearly impossible-
The woman lets out a wanton moan as the man starts moving, the pace immediately fast and bruising. The sound of his balls clapping against her ass fills the room, and Gyutaro pants, his fist moving faster and faster, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He transitions from moving his arm to thrusting his stationary fist, matching the man’s pacing and imagining it’s you getting fucked, that your cries are the ones ringing in his ears and it’s your pretty tits that are bouncing and jiggling with the force of the thrusts.
From behind – shit, from behind! He instructs, his voice strained with his impending orgasm.
The man listens, pulling out and carefully slipping her over, slipping back inside and listening to the way the woman cries out. Gyutaro’s eyes focus on her breasts as they sway and jiggle – you have a very similar size, and just the thought of him fucking you hard enough to get your tits moving makes his eyes flutter closed for a moment, eyebrows drawing tightly together at the thought.
This sight is even more erotic than the last position – it’s all too easy to imagine it’s him pulling at your hips, smacking his own against your ass again and again, making you feel him so deep, deep enough to get you chanting his name like a fucking prayer. Gyutaro moves forward and uses his free hand to grab the man’s, forcing his fingers into her hair and pushing her face down against the mattress, the new position making the man groan and the woman shudder.
Gyutaro curses, letting go and putting all his effort into fucking his fist to the same tempo, trying to match the man’s perfectly. He wants to fuck you like this, he decides – leaning over you like some sort of animal, mounting you, fucking you in the most raw, animalistic way.
You’d look so damn pretty, and he’s sure your pussy would make wet noises like hers is, your slick dripping down your thighs and your pleas to give you more more more please Gyutaro, need your cum!
Gyutaro gasps hard as cum sprays all along the inside of his pants, his fist slowing to a stop as he rides out his high, eyes half lidded and all sorts of groans and sharp exhales filling the room.
The couple stares, bewildered, unsure of what to do – he’s still fucking her but more gently, and Gyutaro smirks at them, still dazed from the pleasure and the idea of doing this to you. Licking his lips, he climbs onto the windowsill, glancing over his shoulder at them.
I’m coming back tomorrow night. He stares at the woman, a wide smile splitting across his features. You’re gonna show me how to suck cock right, yeah? Gotta make sure I can guide her when she-
He stops, swallowing, his cheeks still blushed from his orgasm and from the vulgar idea of you taking him down his throat.
Don’t you tell anyone about this, eh? I’ll find you, and I’ll kill you.
And with that, he’s gone, disappeared from the windowsill and leaving the man and woman to embrace each other, shaking in fear. Meanwhile, Gyutaro’s running from roof to roof, adrenaline filling his veins because he has to see you now – he’s too pent up, and he needs to see you in person. As expected, you’re asleep by the time he reaches your home, sitting on your window edge, licking his lips and breathing hard.
You’re so fucking pretty – he crawls closer, acutely aware to be quiet and not wake you. You’d fallen asleep on your futon, the blanket still neatly folded in the corner, and Gyutaro swallows before grabbing the cloth, pulling it over you and up to your chin, his hands trembling.
He sighs, his fingers itching to reach out and touch you, to bend you into the positions he’d seen the couples trying, but he refrains. He doesn’t want to wake you, doesn’t want you to be aware of his presence quite yet. He has to be patient, good – he’ll allow himself one pleasure, however, as he dips a finger inside his pants, scooping up some of his still warm cum and gently, gingerly smearing it across your lips, practically moaning at the sight of white against your skin.
You’re just so, so perfect – it almost makes him sick, but as he returns to the couple the next night, demanding the woman get on her knees, Gyutaro can’t help but shiver.
It may take him a while to actually touch you, but god, he’ll be ready.
FAVORITE BODY PARTS:
Your stomach
In general, one of the things that Gyutaro finds he adores about you as his obsession festers is how opposite the two of you are. Regardless of your weight, you are physically different from him – and Gyutaro notices this early on.
That is, his body is essentially just bone – skin stretched to cover his skeleton, while you have lovely warm, squishy skin covering your curves and pretty body. You’re so fucking soft – nothing on you can possibly be as hard as he is, and from the moment he first holds your waist with a slightly shaking hand he can’t help but notice this difference every time he looks at you.
He grows to love feeling the areas on you that hold the most squishiness, and his favorite place of all is your stomach. There’s something so relaxing about how warm the area is, your skin practically his personal hand warmer as he slides his hands into your kimono, his palms pressed snugly against your tummy.
They don’t move much; stationary, just simply feeling, the intention not inherently sexual. However, as you bring back small traces of his long-buried humanity, you also bring back traces of his libido, something that’s been noticeably gone throughout the duration of his time as a demon.
And so, as urges to kiss and touch you slowly begin seeping into his mind, Gyutaro slowly becomes fixated on the fact that you’re so fucking soft, the perfect thing for him to squeeze and lick and fuck until you’re crying and begging for more more more –
His sex drive isn’t monumental, but Gyutaro would be blatantly lying if he said he hasn’t fantasized about how soft you’d feel underneath him before, your pretty body on display for his greedy eyes.
He’s seen many humans naked, but the first time he sees you without any clothing on, his hands are immediately reaching out – and, surprisingly, heading directly for your stomach. His breaths come out harsher as he stares down at your exposed belly, the skin even softer somehow than when it touches it under your clothes.
As he starts regularly fucking you, get ready for his hands to always be gravitating towards your stomach, his fingers pressing into the soft fat while you writhe and squirm in his lap as he forces you up and down his cock, his eyes rolling back into his head while he practically drools.
He loses his composure during sex, and it’ll be more than apparent in the way he grasps onto your tummy like it’s his life line, as if you’re the only thing tethering him to Earth while his orgasm crashes over him.
And god, when he’s got you laying in front of him, your pretty legs parted to expose the soft, warm pussy he claims as his, Gyutaro uses your stomach as almost a pillow – he’s watching his fingers appearing and disappearing out of your cunt, your juices smeared across his pale skin as he rests his forehead on the softness of your lower belly.
His eyes are wide and unblinking, his lips parted in awe as he watches the way you just take them, your velvety walls clenching down repeatedly, hard enough to make his mouth water. He’s always leaving small kisses against your stomach after sex, an oddly sweet gesture that makes every bruise he leaves on your body from the rough fucking feeling slightly better.
It’s strange, his fascination, and at first you have the terrible, horrible fear that his obsession stems from wanting to grow his family with a child. It’s a terrifying thought, one you try to put out of your head, but eventually (after he forces you to tell him, his eyes turning dark and threatening as he demands you to tell me, don’t keep any secrets from me, ever) the fear is lost, as Gyutaro regretfully informs you that demons are infertile.
You’re relieved, but the question only seems to further ignite his obsession with your stomach – you’ll catch him speaking to it when you’re asleep, odd little confessions of if only I could… when you wake up.
Essentially, Gyutaro is obsessed with your tummy because it’s soft and squishy and fuck you’re so very pretty.
His fingers
Generally speaking, Gyutaro isn’t particularly fond of any specific body part of his own.
He’s proud of his ability to fight and destroy, but especially in the context of physical attractiveness, Gyutaro firmly believes what he’s always been told. He knows he’s unappealing; how could anyone ever like a monster with such a grotesque body and face?
It’s a cycle of self-deprecation that he’s found comfort in for most of his life, but once you appear, suddenly he’s wildly disappointed that he isn’t more handsome. He wishes he had a fuller figure, muscle spanning his chest and back, just like all those slayers he sees.
He wishes he had softer hair, a more symmetrical smile, less facial blemishes, everything.
He hates that he’s limited to human beauty ideals, but he can’t help it – how can he, when you’re around him looking so cute and adorable? You’re not perfect either (though he loves your imperfections perhaps more than anything else), but he wants to be perfect for you.
And so, while Gyutaro silently wallows in his self-misery, he slowly discovers that despite his lack of sexual experience and general understanding of human female anatomy, you seem to really, really like his fingers.
His nails were, initially, something you’d quickly stammered out a w-wait! to when he’d tried to shove a finger inside, and while he hadn’t appreciated your interruption, when you mentioned he could stab you and make you bleed with how sharp they were, he reluctantly digressed.
It’s not hard to bite off the excess sharpness of the nail, grinding them down to a roundness against the flesh of his finger, perfectly safe.
The first time he’d fingered you, Gyutaro was shocked at how impossibly warm, wet and tight you were inside. It was like touching velvet – so soft, your walls sucking him in and seeming to almost invite him inside, as if you wanted him there, like you didn’t want him to leave.
He’s staring transfixed at the way you take them, your pussy squelching as he slowly thrusts them in and out, your little squeals making his cheeks flush a very light pink. He loves the way you gasp when he curls them just so, brushing against the spongey spot he’s memorized as your favorite.
He loves to abuse the area; watching as your eyes squeeze closed, your fingers grasping onto his shoulders, your thighs tensing and clenching, your little cries of his name and yes – yes please ‘Taro, fuck please!
He loves how quickly he can get you falling apart with his fingers, how you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning, whimpering mess once he gets you below him. It boosts his confidence, and occasionally between thrusts inside, he’ll pull his fingers out and suck on them, his own little groan slipping out as he savors your taste, all musky and heavy.
And of course, once he discovers your clit, it’s over for you – he’s never leaving the small button alone, the bundle of nerves positively sore by the time he’s done with you. He’s rubbing small circles against it, drawing figure eights, writing the kanji for his name with the tip of his finger, anything he can to get your back arching up, your toes curling and your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ he loves so much.
He’s constantly bewildered by just how much pleasure he can deliver you with only his hands, and so as he squeezes and gropes at your ass, breasts, stomach, anything and everything, just know that he’s feeling nearly as good as you are.
After all, those bandages as pants may be loose, but you can still see a very clear outline of just how excited he is – and just how much he’s enjoyed the way you’ve made a mess of his fingers, if the wet stain around said outline is any indicator. He just really, really likes using his fingers on you, so just let him, yeah?
DRIVE:
Gyutaro’s never been that horny. Having been turned into a demon while young, he’s never really experienced the human emotion of lust, his sexual urges having faded out from his teenage years to nearly nothing. He’s too consumed by other emotions – anger, jealousy, pity – to really focus on something so arbitrary, something so human.
And so, as a result of this repressed sexual drive Gyutaro doesn’t immediately begin lusting after you once his obsession with you begins to form. He isn’t desperate to fuck you the moment he realizes he feels some twisted form of love, nor does he want to touch you in any way that’s inherently sexual.
Instead, his urges to be with you and feel your skin are much, much more innocent in nature – of course, he’s still a man-eating monster, but he wants to touch your cheek just because it looks soft.
He wants to run his hands along your sides because you’re so small compared to his looming figure, and he wants to make sure that you’re real.
He wants to know how it feels to have you in his arms, because he’s seen human couples doing that and it’s a show of intimacy and connection between two people, and that’s what he wants to have with you.
As time passes, his urges towards you slowly begin moving towards the area of lusting, however. Soon he’s wanting to kiss you; his lips are always chapped, of course, and he’s sure his breath smells atrocious, but your lips look so soft and warm, like they’d be perfect to press against his own.
He imagines pressing you against his body as you kiss him, your hands resting against his chest as you sigh into his mouth, the human form of affection seeming so intimate and lovely and necessary.
It’s some long lost repressed human part of him driving these desires, but Gyutaro can’t find it in himself to care – especially not after the first time he sees you nude. He’s seen dozens of humans naked before; he lives in the Entertainment District after all, and when he’s devouring someone, he’s not particularly respectful with keeping them covered up.
However, there’s something different about you – maybe it’s because he feels so attached to you, or maybe it’s because he suddenly can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to embrace your naked body with his own, free of any fabric separating the both of you while he indulges in your warmth, softness, the plush skin of your body.
He’s not sure, but regardless, after that moment suddenly all those sexual feelings leftover from his time as a human come rushing back to him – he’s hard without even realizing it, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as he simply stares, his expression going dumb.
You’re uncomfortable with it, he can tell by the way you avoid his gaze, but he can’t find it in himself to care – you’re so beautiful, perfect for him in every possible way. And so, after that night, Gyutaro finds himself inching closer and closer towards the final level of intimacy, pushing the boundaries just a bit more each night until he’s eventually got you perched in his lap, his hands placed on your hips.
You’re both naked, your breasts placed tantalizingly close, close enough to be able to reach out and wrap his lips around your nipple, to suck and watch you keen, to maybe even sigh out his name…
He’s rendered mute by your pussy the first time he fucks you, truly too pussydrunk to really even think, as embarrassing as it is. The big, strong Gyutaro falls so easily to your body – one clench and he’s shuddering, every nerve in his body on fire as he tries not to come quite yet – only lasting thirty seconds is wildly embarrassing, and while you’d never poke fun at him for fear of dying, Gyutaro grits his teeth and tries to hold on to his dignity.
And so, sex with you becomes a regular craving for the demon. His urges aren’t too unbearable, and he only ever acts on it a few nights a week, but be prepared because Gyutaro will fuck you, and you will like it – he'll make sure you come, and doesn’t that mean you’re enjoying yourself?
But until he gather up enough courage to actually fuck you, Gyutaro takes baby steps. He can’t do too much all at once – he gets too overwhelmed, too shy and embarrassed because you’re looking at him, your pretty eyes and face and voice giving him attention. It makes his lips go numb, anxiously scratching at his arms and struggling to meet your gaze because god he wants to touch you and hear you moan his name, but how does one go about that, exactly?
Sure, he knows the basics of sex and has watched couples initiate it, but it’s different with you. It’s different because Gyutaro isn’t stupid – he knows you’re afraid of him, that he’s too grotesque and ugly for you to ever really want to be intimate with, and these thoughts make it hard for him to just take what he wants from you.
And so, he starts small – he'll touch you a little more, fingertips pressing hard into your sides when he ghosts his hands there, trying to be gentle but struggling to regulate his strength because you’re so close to him.
He’ll let his fingers brush over your hair, never enough for you to feel but just enough for the texture to become familiar, always bringing his fingers up to his nose and smelling them afterwards, something between a growl and a moan slipping from his lips at the scent.
He’ll reach out and lightly, oh so lightly press his thumb against your cheek, marveling at how soft your skin is and how warm it is, mumbling something under his breath about how you’re too pretty, how it makes him sick that you’re too damn pretty.
His breathing will be a little unsteady when his does this, those yellow eyes of his glancing between your own and your lips, contemplating in a way that he thinks is much more subtle than it actually is.
He wants all sorts of human intimacy with you, and the next thing that he wants to tackle is kissing you. The idea is strange to him - why do humans press their mouths together? It must feel good, but why? He’s curious, but touching you has such an effect on him, so surely tasting you would suck the air right out of his lungs, leaving his knees feeling weak and making pink bloom across his cheeks.
He doesn’t ask you for permission, instead one day coming to sit beside you against the wall of the lair, that familiar concentrated look in his eye. He’ll ask you some question whose answer he doesn’t care about – just to see your lips moving, watching with sharp eyes how your tongue contorts and moves inside your mouth, sometimes flicking out to lick at your lips, the sight almost making him whimper.
Soon, he can’t just watch – he’s rushing forward without any warning, pressing against you with a level of force that makes you yelp. His lips are dry and cracked (despite him having licked them excessively in preparation for this moment, wishing to make them as soft and pleasant as possible), and they’re not moving – he’s staying perfectly still, eyes wide open and staring at you.
It scares you, because while you know what he’s doing, the experience is anything but pleasant. He stays like that for a few moments, before slowly, very slowly moving, his lips clumsy and unsure as they work at you. It feels like he’s trying to eat you – his tongue and teeth stay firmly inside his mouth, but his lips keep trying to fit more and more of you into his mouth at once, saliva smearing across bits of your cheek and chin.
You’re still completely frozen, unsure of what to do, and Gyutaro pulls back, scowling. It had felt good – in a strange way, a way that made something in his stomach feel tight and warm, but he’s sure it would feel much better if you were participating too, if you’d actually kiss him back. Don’t just sit there, he’ll warble to you, not willing to actually ask you to kiss him back, his pride barring him from practically begging for what he wants.
(Though as your sexual relationship progresses, this pride slowly withers away and dies – to the point where he’ll get on his knees and beg for you to open your pretty mouth and suck him off, because even though he could force you easily, it always feels better when you consent, when you at pretend to actually want him.)
This time, as he leans in, your lips move too, trying to match his awkward kisses. Gyutaro groans at that, leaning further against you, the weight causing you to fall backwards, lying flat on your back. You’d pulled away from the kiss during the fall, and as Gyutaro stares down at you hungrily, he swallows, sucking through his teeth harshly and trying to get every drop of your saliva down his throat. You must really, really want him, huh?
The sight simultaneously flusters and flatters him, and before you can say a word he’s scrambling over you, pressing his lips against yours harshly, with vigor, his tongue slipping out and practically forcing its way down your throat. You just taste so fucking good – it's addictive, and the knowledge that you’d laid down for him, wanting him to hover over you and mimic sex making his head swim. He’s breathing hard through his nose, almost wheezing, and you quickly shut your eyes, not wanting to look at his still wide-open ones.
He kisses you for a long, long time – easily thirty minutes, not tiring of the feeling, his tongue still actively rubbing against yours, tracing every tooth and managing to dip into every crevice in your mouth, each new area making him groan and get just a hair more desperate.
When he eventually pulls away, he licks your lips and smiles shakily, a hand coming down to pet at your hair. Next time, will you take you shirt off? It probably grosses you out, huh, that request?
And when you nod with wide eyes, too scared to say no, Gyutaro will exhale slowly, nodding and muttering a series of slurred good’s and your name under his breath, before stalking off out of the lair. Once out of your sight he’s stopping, a hand coming up to scratch at the area right over his heart, his face morphing into something between despair and prevenance.
You’re just so damn pretty – he can’t handle the sight of you, and the image of you laid out before him, looking up at him with those eyes makes every muscle in his body tense, that familiar warm feeling in his groin growing tighter and tighter, and as a hand snakes down to palm at the now very noticeable and wet bulge in his pants, Gyutaro decides that he needs to speed this process up.
He doesn’t know how much longer he can take holding himself back – not if touching you and tasting you and making you gasp feel this good.
(Later that night, as he hovers over your sleeping form and tugs near painfully on his cock, Gyutaro decides that the next step can happen right then and there – you’d look so good with his cum smeared all across your face, wouldn’t you?)
MAIN THREE KINKS:
Praise
While Gyutaro has a difficult time believing your compliments initially, with time he grows much more willing (and desperate) to indulge in your sweet words.
Your kind praises of his caring actions – no matter how forced the words are – have him melting inside, his heart pounding in his chest while he struggles to hold your gaze. He reverts to a bit of a teenage boy in moments where you compliment him – and during sex?
Well, Gyutaro nearly passes out the first time you compliment his body. It takes so much courage for him to show you himself nude, if only because he’s so scared of the way you’ll react. What if you think he’s ugly, or weird, or repulsive? What if you wince at the sight of him, or cower when he tries to touch you or make you touch him?
He’s so scared, so when you run your hands along his arms and tell him he’s handsome, he’s staring at you with wide eyes. He’s simultaneously hateful and in love with the vulnerability you make him feel, so please, please compliment him during sex.
He needs the validation that you like him, that he’s making you feel good, and while he’ll never actually say it aloud, your words turn him on more than you know. Just hearing his name roll off your tongue has his eyes rolling backwards, his fingers twitching with the urge to touch you, to feel your soft skin. He loves when you tell him sweet things about his body; tell him he’s attractive, that you love how strong he is, that you love how muscular his arms are.
Tell him his eyes are pretty, that you love tunneling your fingers through his hair while he fucks you with his tongue, that you love the way his fingers stretch you out and get you seeing stars.
Compliment the things that he does in bed; tell him that you love how he growls and bites at your neck with those sharp teeth of his, that you love when he manhandles you and grunts into your ear as he rolls his hips into yours.
And of course, tell him how he makes you feel – he’ll groan your name and his hips will stutter if you say his cock feels so – so good Gyutaro, mm please! Need more, need more of you –
Tell him that he feels so good inside of you, that he’s going to make you come because it’s all too much, and you’ll see him physically freeze up, his eyes wide and a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth because god, are you talking about him?
Moan his name and make a show of writhing around underneath him, arching your back and gasping out that he’s so big! T’s too much Gyu, gonna make me come!
Tell him anything and everything that comes to your mind, the more depraved the better. He likes to hear you become reduced to incoherent whimpers because of him, and with each praise that slips past your lips, Gyutaro feels his confidence slowly rise until he’s fucking into you with reckless abandon.
He’ll be bearing his teeth and whispering the filthiest things into your ear, the confidence boosting his system like nothing else. He’s calling you his, possessive petnames right and left as he practically abuses your cunt with his cock, pounding into you with such fervor that it’s almost like he’s trying to mold your pussy into the shape of his cock.
He’s demanding you tell him how he feels; growls of tell me what you want me to do to you filling the space between you, the panting breaths and moans rushing into the empty air. He’s telling you to take it, f-fuck, so damn tight, do I make you this tight, huh?
He wants you to mindlessly agree, to clutch onto his body and squeeze around him, milking him for absolutely everything he can give to you until you’re spasming around his cock, coming all over him and whimpering underneath him, your pretty eyes staring up at him with tears beading in your lashes from the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving to you.
And if you were to worship any part of his body?
He’s not sure what you’re doing at first – why are you sinking to your knees and moving so slowly in front of him? You’re taking your time with his cock, letting your eyes gaze over every single inch of him, the attention making his neck flush and embarrassing him. And yet, he doesn’t stop you – because when you whisper out that he’s so pretty, I love your cock Gyutaro, he nearly malfunctions, his nails digging into his palms as his hips involuntarily jerk, his cock bobbing slightly with the motion.
He wants you to kiss every inch of him, to suckle on his tip and let your tongue dip into his hypersensitive slit, the sensation making him gasp sharply and his eyes close tightly.
He wants you to gently fondle his balls, to whisper against his skin in between licks against his shaft that you wanna taste you, can I please taste you Gyu? Wanna make you come, you look so pretty when you do…
He’ll let you do anything you damn well please when you’ve got him like this – his eyes are watching your every move, his breath hitched, his heart fluttering in his chest as his orgasm comes much too soon, the emotional weight of your words and adoring actions making him desperate to give you the cum you claim you need.
He just really, really likes when you give him positive attention in the bedroom, so please narrate everything you’re feeling. He wants to know every possible detail, and he’ll strive to keep touching and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name and a jumbled, slurred series of yes and please and I love you.
Breast Fixation
Gyutaro, to put it lightly, develops a sort of fascination with your chest. He has no sexual experience with women, and consequently has neither felt nor seen a living, naked woman’s breasts before.
Of course, he’s been curious; victims he’s in the middle of devouring who’s clothing has slipped down in the process of his meal, where their tits are hanging out of the fabric, looking soft and supple and perfect to touch. He’ll reach out and halfheartedly squeeze, but the dead flesh isn’t the same as a living, breathing woman’s – besides, his hunger is too strong for him to really process how soft, pliable, and squishy it is.
And so, once he has you, someone to fantasize about and imagine naked (frequently), Gyutaro is suddenly very interested in seeing what you look like shirtless. He’s always paid close attention to the way your chest looks in your kimonos; the fabric tightening through there, as if your breasts were practically begging to be freed, exposed to the world and awaiting eyes like his.
He’s always noticed the way your top exposes the line of your cleavage when you bend down to pick something up, your tits pressed together by your arms while he gets a front row seat that leaves his pants feeling tight and his throat dry.
Before he steals you away, frequent nights are spent with the image of you straddling his lap playing through his mind. He’ll imagine the way you’d shimmy out of your top, exposing your breasts to his greedy eyes, the soft flesh sitting only a few tantalizing inches away from his face.
He’d focus in on your nipples, imagining the way they’d slowly pebble from the cold air, growing tight and taut while he’s left to drool, his fingers begging to reach out and pinch, twist, and pull. He’ll imagine the way you’d look down at him with a soft smile, cupping his cheeks and asking in that soft, breathy whisper of yours if he’d touch them please Gyutaro, I want you to play with me…
He wouldn’t need to be told twice, his hands immediately reaching up to cautiously grope and squeeze.
He’s nervous at first, his touches hesitant, but as he wraps a hand around your left breast and squeezes lightly, the sigh you make in response has him gulping and squeezing harder, his other hand following suit until he’s massaging and groping at your tits like they’re his personal stress balls.
He’s painfully hard below you, his cock desperate for stimulation, but as you push his head closer to your breasts he nearly loses his mind; he’s quick to envelope a nipple into his mouth, closing his eyes while he sucks and licks at the bud as you hum and praise him, little whispers of mmm, just like that baby going straight to his cock.
He twitches with every little keen you make, and this fantasy carries over into his sex life with you. Very, very early on you’ll notice that he’s always staring at your tits whenever you’re intimate with him.
When he’s bathing you, he’s staring and gulping, not doing well to hide the way he’s very clearly ogling.
When you’re changing, he’s quickly glancing away after you catch him stealing looks at you, his cheeks pink as he holds his hands over the tent slowly forming in his pants.
And once you start fucking?
Well, you’ve noticed his fascination, and you’ll capitalize on it. Grab his cock and trace your nipples with the tip, and just watch the way he shivers, his eyes unable to look away while he whispers a gravelly fuck under his voice.
Play with your tits as you wait for him to undress, pouting up at him and begging him to hurry up, to come fuck you please, you’re too horny to wait.
Push your breasts together and ask him to fuck them, telling him it’ll feel so good, and how you want him to leave his cum all over the soft skin.
Purposefully bounce more than you actually need when he fucks you while you’re on your back, so that the fat jiggles even more and watch the way his eyes widen, his pupils dilating as he fucks into you with new fervor.
Grope and squeeze at them as he hovers over you in missionary, and you’ll feel the way his thrusts grow faster, harder, more desperate, his eyes trained on the way you work at the soft, supple flesh.
The root of his love for your breasts really comes from just how soft they are; he’s not used to anything as welcoming or comforting as your chest, and when you let him rest his head there, fall asleep behind you with a hand cupping one, letting him idly suckle at a nipple as you card your fingers through his hair, how can Gyutaro not grow to love them?
And love them he will – the copious amounts of love marks, bruises and hickeys littering the sensitive skin will make his obsession more than obvious, as will the way he essentially creams his pants the first time his fingers brush against them.
The large stain against the fabric and the slack-jawed, red-faced expression he gives you will have you more than aware that just a simple flash of your tits will leave Gyutaro puddy in your hands, willing to do anything for you.
Hand Holding
It’s not really a kink, but as your sexual relationship with Gyutaro progresses, you’ll find that more often than not he manages to snake his hand into yours. When he’s fucking you in missionary, hips smacking against you fast and hard, he’s holding your hands above your head, gritting his teeth and whining in your ear because you’re too – too fucking tight, shit, ‘m gonna come, you want that? You want my cum in you?
He’ll start off with his hand wrapped around your wrist, but as the sex continues and he gets closer to his orgasm, he’ll switch to interlacing his fingers with yours, pressing your hand hard against the mattress, the tendons in his hands and forearms flexing as his abs and balls clench up, warm cum flooding your cunt and leaving him gasping your name.
When he’s got you bent over, pretty ass on display as he stuffs you full with his cock, he’ll lean over you, a large hand covering one of yours, dwarfing yours and overwhelming you even more, his body literally covering every inch of yours.
Even when perched on top of him, grinding against him and biting your lip because it feel so very good, he’ll alternate between cupping the globes of your ass and catching your hand, clutching it in his hand as he tries to keep his grounding and not come too quickly.
Frankly, it’s almost unconscious – he doesn’t actively realize it’s happening until you point it out to him, in which case he’ll grow defensive, telling you that you’re wrong and mistaken, embarrassed to admit that he naturally does something so human, so weak and gentle.
But really, it’s just another way to extend the intimacy with you – you’re so pretty and sweet and so very lovely, and though he’s kidnapped you and forced you into some twisted form of a relationship with him, there’s something about the moments where he’s inside of you that leaves him feeling fuzzy, warm, wanted. And perhaps it’s the centuries of neglect and self-hatred that lead him to desperately chase that feeling of security and acceptance, or perhaps it’s just natural instinct left over from his human days.
Regardless, Gyutaro will almost exclusively only ever orgasm if your hand is somehow touching his – he needs that intimacy to let himself finish, emptying himself inside of you while clutching onto you, keeping you there and steady and still, stopping you from squirming away or escaping when he’s trying to give you his cum, gifting you with the most intimate, personal thing he could. And when he’s coming, he’s squeezing at your hand, hard.
The pleasure is just so overwhelming, and he needs something to grasp onto, something to keep him grounded and keep him from rutting into you and humping you into overstimulation, his cries and warbled moans sounding pitiful. He doesn’t mean to crush your hand, but sometimes he’ll hold so tightly that you wind up with big finger-shaped bruises across your palms and the back of your hands, the sight making Gyutaro ashamed because he hadn’t meant to hurt you, but also pleased because now he’s marked you.
There’ll be a constant reminder of him every time you look down at your hands, every time you do basic tasks or touch things. It's a thought that makes him weirdly smug, and so while Gyutaro will often try to deny your accusations of him always holding your hand during sex, but he knows it’s true.
(But really, you should be grateful it’s just your hand – at least it’s not your throat, where he’s much likelier to lose control.)
But even outside of when he orgasms, Gyutaro really, really likes to hold your hands. His favorite time to consciously do it is when he’s got you perched in his lap, his chin resting on your shoulder while you lean back against his chest.
He’ll want you fully nude so that he’s free to explore and roam your body with his hands, occasionally pinching at your stomach or groping at your breast. He wants you sat on his cock, the hard length nestled inside of you while you both simply bask in each other’s presence, him turning to bury his nose against your neck and deeply inhaling, his cock twitching inside of you.
Gyutaro grows a penchant for cockwarming with you as time goes by, because while he doesn’t always want to fuck you (though it’s not too terribly difficult to persuade him – just say please and he’s putty in your hands, so frantic to get his cock out that he’s ripping at the bandages of his pants) there’s something about the intimacy of being inside you but just cuddling you or holding you that satisfies his clinginess.
Plus, this way he can indulge in the feeling of your cunt in a non-sexual way – you’re just so warm and inviting, taking his breath away every time without fail, the sensation so lovely and foreign to him that he wants to spend every possible moment inside of you, even if he’s not fucking you stupid. And the whole time he's lodged inside you like this, his fingers are wrapped around yours, marveling at the size different and tracing the lines and patterns on your hand.
They’re just so much softer and better than his – so innocent and not capable of so much death and destruction as his. You’re just so cute, in a way that makes him crazy, and he’d be stupid to not take advantage of having someone like you to touch and taste and share his best.
And Gyutaro is many things, but stupid is not one of them.
OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:
Cock Worship
Although Gyutaro isn’t an inherently selfish lover, he can’t deny that having you fawn over him gets him hot under the collar, his pants growing uncomfortably tight and his mouth feeling dry. There’s just something about the idea of you worshipping him that gets him equal parts mortified and horribly aroused.
To have all of your attention on him in a non-sexual context steals his breath away, making him struggle to seem interesting and cool and attractive, even if he knows he isn’t. And so, in a sexual context this is only amplified – he wants you to like him, to find his body and him generally attractive, and to have you blatantly doing that during sex would make his head spin, embarrassment eating him alive even as he enjoys every second of it.
And to have you worship any part of his body is wonderful, but to have you worship between his legs?
Well, his cock’s not especially pretty, and he knows it – it’s long, long enough that it’s right on the border between hurting and pleasurable when he sinks inside all the way to the hilt. It’s sensitive, always leaking precum so it’s sticky and wet and glistening, with a set of heavy, swollen balls sprinkled with black hairs hung right below.
It’s intimidating and will leave you a bit nervous of how he’ll possibly fit inside of you, but Gyutaro’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he sees and feels your fingers wrap around him, pumping and flicking your wrist at the tip, the sensation of you jerking him off making his hips buck up into the air.
Having you give him long, slow, lazy pumps of your fist while you list off all the reasons you love his cock in between sloppy, wet kisses would have Gyutaro coming in mere minutes, the attention and praise going directly between his legs.
When you’re on your knees in front of him, make him shudder and flush by gripping him, making a show of licking from the base to the tip, suckling on the swollen, red tip and flicking your tongue against his slit, dipping in slightly and feeling the way he throbs in your mouth.
Move down to fondle and suck at his balls – if you’re able to fit a whole one in your mouth, you’ll hear a strangled s-stop, stop stop stop ‘m gonna come too fast, the pleasure literally too much for him to handle.
Give him the erotic sight of you tracing the outline of your lips with his tip, smearing precum all over them so that they’re glistening with a clear, off-white sheen. Rub the outside of your cheek against his length while you stare up at him, licking your lips and smiling, and you’ll literally see his face turning red, his sharp teeth biting at his lip and drawing blood because fuck, you’re so sexy and provocative and having you say that you love his cock is making his heart flutter.
And when he’s inside you, thrusting in and out and making you clench and tighten up, purposefully flex the muscles, making everything tighter and more intense, telling him that he deserves the tightest you can offer, and feel the way he immediately busts inside of you, the groan that forces its way past his lips sounding pained and desperate and pathetic.
Which brings us to another major facet of his enjoyment of cock worship – please worship his cum. It’s a bit runny and thin, shooting out of him in long spurts, always wickedly warm and getting absolutely everywhere. Let him come inside you – whine out a please give it to me Gyutaro, need you to come for me, please please want your cum!
He’s stuffing you full every time he fucks you, those yellow eyes of his eagerly watching it ooze out of you after he’s pulled out. When you’re sucking and licking at him, let him push your head as far down as you can go, sending rope after rope down your throat, his nails digging into your scalp as he gives a few sad last spurts, only a drop or so managing to hit your tongue.
Let him pull out of your mouth and give himself a few good tugs, cum splattering all over your face while he groans your name and a slurred take it. Lick it off your lips and look up at him with cum all over your cheeks and chin, and you’ll see the way he snarls and throws you onto the makeshift bed he shares with you, immediately ripping your thighs apart and diving into you like a man starved, the wet noises of his tongue diving between your folds absolutely depraved.
You’re just so, so very wonderful when you’re worshipping him, so please do – one the bright side, it’s the absolute fastest way to get him to come, just as long as you sound like you really mean it.
Spitting
This kink is one that takes both you and Gyutaro by surprise. It happens very suddenly, and it takes a moment for both of you to process exactly what’s happened, Gyutaro’s spit sitting against your tongue and tasting like him.
It’s a manifestation of his possessiveness over you – you’re his. His little human, his lovely woman, his pretty cunt to touch and fuck and bury himself inside of for hours on end. And so, when he’s got you folded into a mating press, strong arms keeping your thighs pinned to your chest with absolutely no wiggle room, your face all screwed up in pleasure and your occasional gasps of his name, how can Gyutaro not want to mark you as his?
You’ll find that he often uses those possessive nicknames for you in the bedroom too, always going on and on about how you’re his girl, his cunt, his love.
And really, spitting in your mouth and on you is just a natural progression of this sentiment. He starts off with spitting onto your breasts – a glob of saliva landing on a sensitive nipple, making everything slick as he pinches and toys with the area, hearing you keen above him.
Then it’ll transition to him spitting onto your collarbone, rubbing the wetness over the bone, leaning down to suck dark hickeys against your skin, getting the area even more sticky with his saliva.
He’ll move on to spitting directly onto your cunt after that, spreading your pretty folds and letting the spit land right over your quivering hole, loving the way you jerk slightly at the weird sensation. It makes it easier when he fingers you, just that extra layer of wetness making his fingers glide in and out of you, pulling moans and whines from your lips.
He’ll spit at your asshole when he’s got you bent over, thumb rubbing against the hole and only slightly dipping in, enjoying the way you yelp and get all tense.
It’s only after he’s grown comfortable with spitting all over your body that he finally ends up seeing your open mouth under him as he fucks you with fast, harsh thrusts, hovering above you and staring down at you without blinking. He’ll spit directly onto your tongue, staring with panting breaths, before telling you in that familiar strained voice to swallow, his eyes watching the way your throat bobs as you do what he says.
It’s hot, really – the kind of thing that makes his cock twitch and bob, the idea that you have his saliva inside of you making something in his gut sit pleasantly.
And if you were to spit in his mouth, Gyutaro would actually fucking whimper. He wants you to be possessive over him, to want him all to yourself, to think of him as yours – and if you were to be riding him, hips clapping against his as you milk him for everything he’s worth, Gyutaro would gladly open his mouth wide, waiting with baited breath and shut eyes to feel your warm spit against his tongue. He’ll swallow for you, even opening his mouth again in case you’re feeling generous and want to give him more.
He just thinks it’s hot, and he’d be more than willing to bring spitting into your non-sexual lives too – it’s just so intimate and meaningful, don’t you agree?
BIGGEST FANTASY:
As a general rule, Gyutaro is a massive fan of touching you.
There’s quite literally nothing about your body or yourself that could ever turn him off; he thinks every inch of you is exquisite, no matter what your personal qualms may be. And because he thinks of you as something so wonderful and sweet and his, he finds everything that your body does equally as arousing as your pretty face.
And so, while he’s never given it much thought, the moment he smells blood in the air around you, he’s immediately fighting off both his appetite and the intense fear coursing through him because why the fuck are you bleeding?
He’s not sure what’s going on initially, until he follows the blood source and finds it to be between your trembling legs. You’re scared, understandably, at why he’s so suddenly yanking your legs apart, eyes boring right into your crotch, but when he starts ripping at the cloth covering you, there’s not much you can do.
And so, once you explain what’s going on after his frantic why are you bleeding is asked in a panicked voice, suddenly Gyutaro is stiffening up, his thoughts running wild. He’d always been just slightly curious – you smell so sweet, and while there’s no part of him that desires to eat you, there’s something about the way your blood smells, the way you smell…
He quickly learns that having sex with you while you’re on your period is his absolute favorite. You’re so sensitive and pliable, your face screwing up at even the slightest presses of his fingers against your clit, your pussy always wet with blood, easy to slip his fingers in and out of.
He loves it, and the way your smell grows even more pronounced during this time has his head spinning, and fuck the taste –
He thinks he’s lost his mind the first time his lips touch your pussy with a smear of your blood across it, the sweet and metallic taste making his hips involuntarily jerk, his orgasm dangerously close already.
He’s always, always willing to pleasure you while you’re menstruating, to the point where he’s actively offering once he smells that familiar tinge of metal in the air, practically begging you with those half lidded eyes to let me make you feel good, yeah? I’ll be gentle, or at least I’ll try.
He’s careful with his motions at first, though it doesn’t last long – his fingers press into your thighs, nails dangerously close to piercing the skin, while his tongue laps at your cunt like a man starved.
Besides, aren’t orgasms healthy for women, especially during this time of the month? He’s heard so from the other Oirans (in hushed, embarrassed whispers), and what kind of a lover would he be if he didn’t attempt to take care of your every need?
You winced, the cramps in your lower stomach making shifting your sitting position difficult. Your period had arrived very suddenly – it was just starting, and a quick swipe of your fingers below your panties had you sighing in frustration. The dank light of the lair was bright enough to show the red stain of your fingers as you retracted your hand, and with a dejected sloop of your shoulders you leaned back against the dirt wall. Eyes closed, you let your arms wrap around your stomach, resigned to the knowledge that you’ll bleed out through your clothes and onto the dirt ground below before you’d ever ask Gyutaro for sanitary supplies.
Not that he’d say no – although, maybe that scared you more.
Daki scrunched up her nose as she registered the smell, sending you a look. “What’s that stench?”
You bit your lip, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry, it should be over in…”
Unsure of how much Daki knew of menstruation, you left the question unanswered, instead wincing as another cramp rolled through. She grunted, her brow twitching as she crossed her arms. “Aren’t you going to answer me?”
You glanced at her, begging with your eyes for her to leave it alone, and despite her scowl, she merely sighed and pivoted on her heel, jumping up to race out of the lair and into the night air far above. You sighed as well, closing your eyes and relaxing as much as you could.
Your relaxation was cut short, however, as a loud bang and a voice wailed out, “Why is there blood? What’s going on?”
Gyutaro had arrived, and as you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him rushing forward, grabbing a knee in each hand and spreading your legs with a surprising amount of force.
“From here…” He muttered, head leaning down as his gaze focused on your clothed pussy, the kimono and underwear you’d been dressed in earlier that day already seeped through with blood. The red stained the fabric, sending Gyutaro into a further state of panic.
Nails dug into his neck and chest as he stared wildly at you, leaning deeply into your personal space as he growled, “What happened?”
You shrank back, stuttering out, “I – I’m menstruating.”
Gyutaro blinked, his breath heavy with the panic still running through him. “What?”
“I’m menstruating. I’m okay, I’m – I’m not injured.” Your voice was weak, but Gyutaro didn’t seem to notice.
“What is menstruation?” He asked, the scratching sound of his fingers against his neck still prominent in your ears. “Well?”
“It’s um, a sign that I’m fertile…” You whispered, fear squeezing at your heart.
Gyutaro stared at you for a moment, before glancing down between your legs. “Are you in pain? Does it hurt?”
You shook your head, hoping he’d believe the lie.
A moment passed, before he visibly gulped. He slowly lied down on his stomach, his hands frozen for a second before suddenly ripping at your clothing. The area surrounding your pussy was ripped off, exposing yourself to the cold air as you gasped and shivered. The sudden motions were over before you can blink, Gyutaro’s eyes trained on your bloodstained folds.
He looked like a child in a candy store; dilated pupils, his breathing heavy, lips parted enough to allow drool to pool at the edges. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to not flinch when he was this close to you, especially as you saw his razor sharp teeth.
You yelped when a finger reached out to very lightly brush over your pussy, his skin just barely grazing your own. You bit your lip.
He repeated his ministration, adding a bit more pressure. A moan slipped past your lips as his finger passed over your clit, and immediately you clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide as his gaze snaped back up to you. His face was bright red, you realized, the blush heavy over his cheeks as licked at his lips. With his gaze still locked on yours, he pressed back on that same spot, your clit oversensitive and making you lowly groan, your thighs involuntarily jerking as he began rubbing up and down the area.
“G-gyutaro…” You whined out, tucking your lower lip under your teeth as you lightly squirmed. He watched with rapt attention. You seemed to be enjoying yourself – do you like being touched while you’re ‘menstruating’? As long as you weren’t injured with all this blood – this blood, that was such an intoxicating, delicious scent, the best thing he’s ever smelled.
With a small, wobbly smile up at you, Gyutaro suddenly dove in, lips pressing against your folds as you gasped and jerked your hips, sending him in even deeper so that his nose brushed against your clit. You gasped his name, encouraging him to dart his tongue out, your blood immediately registered on his taste buds. His eyes blew wide, his hips jerking forward against the ground, the sudden wave of arousal because of your scent making his knees feel weak. He moaned around your skin, his tongue eagerly licking and getting to work against your sensitive skin.
Groans and whimpers vibrated against you, his sounds rivaling your own as you moaned and reached a hand down to run through his hair. Gyutaro’s grip on your thighs tightened at the feeling, and when you tugged a bit at the roots, the growl that left his lips had your pussy clenching around nothing.
“Gyu-“ You started, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensitivity of his tongue on you. It was too much – the pleasure too acute, but as a hand left the plush of your thighs and instead snaked down to press against your clit, you gasped.
A strangled moan slipped past your lips as Gyutaro worked his finger in circles against your bundle of nerves, his tongue still licking and slurping against your folds. The combination of the stimulation had your head spinning, the sensation nearly too much, and as you whined out his name and dug your fingers even more harshly against his scalp, Gyutaro couldn’t help but moan in response.
You tasted so fucking good – the best blood he’s ever feasted on. Sweet, yet savory, a taste entirely your own. His cock was achingly hard in his pants, pressing against the bandaged cloth as he ground his hips against the dirt floor of the lair, the pressure not nearly enough to relieve the terrible ache. He wanted more more more – more of you, more of your perfect little pussy, more of the sounds slipping past your lips, more of the taste of your blood.
Soon you were shaking, thighs trembling as your orgasm crashed through you, your head throwing back as you cried out, slick and blood mixed together on Gyutaro’s tongue, chin and fingers. His thumb never stopped its motions, continuing the bliss as you slowly came down from your high, your clit nearly rubbed raw as the overstimulation began hitting you.
Squirming, you tried to push his head away from your cunt, but Gyutaro’s growl had you stopping quickly.
Pulling back slightly (only enough to speak), Gyutaro warned in a low voice out of breath, “Don’t move, stay still or I’ll make you come so much you cry.”
You only gulped and nodded, the feeling of his nails pressing into your thigh making you shiver, your hips jerking at the overwhelming sensation of Gyutaro’s ministrations.
“Tastes so good, so so so good –“ Gyutaro moaned, the sound muffled against your skin as he gulped and sucked at your pussy, nearly making out with your delicate folds. You whined, squeezing your eyes shut tightly – it was too much.
But for Gyutaro, it’d never be enough; after all, how could he let such a delicacy between your legs be taken for granted? Especially when you looked so pretty all panting and bloody once he’d fucked you with his tongue, fingers and cock more times than you could count.
#yandere kny#yandere demon slayer#yandere gyutaro#gyutaro x reader#kny smut#gyutaro smut#_gyutaro#_kny#_lee's profiles
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Hi! I was wondering if you could do some angst with the hazbin hotel characters? Like we get into an argument and they yell and notice we went silent, looking as if we were gonna break down into tears, IM SORRY I JUST LIVE FOR ANGST AHHH
Hazbin Hotel characters making their S/O cry
Alastor
He was preparing for tomorrow night's broadcast when he heard the door open.
He had been working on his radio broadcast and hotel things for the whole day. He was under so much stress and took it out on you.
"Darling, you know I've been in here all day. Is it that difficult to knock?! You know these things are important! Why must you interrupt me?!"
He didn't get an answer. You just slammed the door and ran out.
He felt terrible as soon as he saw sadness in your eyes.
He ran after you and hugged you, rubbing circles on your back and telling you how sorry he was.
Lucifer
He was very pissed at how much Alastor and Charlie got along.
He was working on his rubber ducks, not hearing you walk in.
He didn't know you were in the room until you hugged him from behind.
"What? What is it now?!" He shouted, dropping his rubber duck to the floor.
"Could you leave me alone for five minutes when you know I'm busy?!"
"Wow, fuck you!" You said before slamming the door and using your powers to get to the hotel.
Alastor opened the door to see you crying and brought you to the couch, giving you a hug.
You barely got the chance to finish telling Alastor what happened before Lucifer ran to you, crying and apologizing.
You were able to talk things out and agreed to be more open about feelings.
Sir Pentious
Pentious was working on a new invention. But, since he was trying to get redeemed, it couldn't be for evil.
He was trying to build things to help with the hotel. Right now, he was making something to lift Niffty up around the hotel.
You were trying to help while also keeping the egg bois under control, not realizing you were distracting him.
"Will you please stop already! You're supposed to be watching them, but you're just as annoying!!"
You had tears in your eyes as soon as you turned around.
"Fine!" You yelled before running off.
"That wasn't very nice, boss. You should apologize."
When Pentious saw you, you were sitting on the couch by the TV with Charlie hugging you.
"Y/N, may I speak with you? I would like to apologize."
You silently nodded, standing up next to him.
"I'm sorry, my dearest, can you ever forgive me?"
"As long as you promise to tell me what's wrong and how to properly help in the future."
He pulled you into a hug and wrapped his tail around you.
Husker
The bar was open way later than usual because Charlie decided to have an open house for the hotel.
Free drinks were pretty much a necessity when you're trying to lure in sinners.
Husk seemed fine/ his usual brand of grumpy.... Until he saw you talking and laughing with some guy and pulled you into an empty hallway.
"What the fuck was that? Did you really think I would be too busy to see you flirting like a whore?"
Even with tears in your eyes, you could tell he's been drinking vodka straight.
You pushed him away from you.
"That's my cousin, you asshole! He was asking me about the hotel."
You ran away, going right to the room you shared with Husk and trying to go to sleep.
Husk spent the rest of the party drinking water and eating a few snacks to fight the future hangover.
When you woke up, Husk had his wings and arms wrapped around you. He didn't even bother trying to sleep.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. I was such an idiot and I hurt the best person who's ever been in my life. I freaked out about seeing you with someone else..... because I know I don't deserve you, and I don't want to lose you."
He was crying into your shoulder, and you pulled him into a hug.
"You couldn't lose me if you wanted to. Just remember, I love you more than anything, and I'd rather die again than lose you.
(A/N : This sucks ass and I'm sorry this took me so long. I hope you like it, though. )
Requests open
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#vivziepop#alastor#alastor hazbin#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#hazbin hotel sir pentious#sir pentious#sir pentious x reader#sir pentious x you#hazbin pentious#husk#husk x reader#husk x you#vivziepop hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#husker x reader#husker hazbin hotel
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bitter fuck
A/N: okay so this is my first work since not writing since last summer 😭 , probably gonna make a part 2 of when reader & jj get back to the château. requests are open! lmk if I forgot any tags and as always, comments are appreciated 🤗.
summary: you mess up and make it up to jj in the back of john b's van (in front of rafe's house ☠️)
word count: ~2k
tags: eventual smut with bsf!jj/implied fem!reader/ oral in the twinkie/mentions of/jj forcefully getting you into the van
you'd never admit it but you loved how overprotective your bestfriend, jj, was. Just nice to know he cared, sometimes too much for people to believe you two were really just friends.
and could you blame him? It's not like you really tried to keep out of trouble. he kept you in check and you tried to do the same for him.
tonight's argument between the two of you was about none other than rafe cameron, you knew better than to hang around him, especially after what he and barry had put jj through.
pacing back and forth though the château he tried to reason with you.
"i'm looking out for you, okay? would you stop being difficult for a second?" he sits down on the couch, placing his hat in his lap and his face in his palms.
"you don't know what he'd do just to piss me off, what he'd do to you. really think I'd just let you go off with someone like that?" jj half laughs.
"let me go?" you scoff, getting up from the couch.
"sorry! I guess I forgot that I'm not allowed to go anywhere without your permission, that's what you're saying right?" you blurted.
"i'm leaving, don't wait up for me." you snatch your purse and walk out the door, slamming it in your fit of short lived anger.
"fuck!" jj covers his face with a pillow, all he wants to do is keep you safe but you make it so hard for him but fine! If you want to be like that then so be it.
you took off on your bike, putting in your earphones to silence the thoughts of regret you were having.
It wasn't hard for jj to find you, he had your location after all. It just scared him that you couldn't hear the twinkie creeping up behind you when you were pulling up to the front of the cameron's house.
kicking your kickstand to finally come to a stop and calm yourself before you go inside, you start feeling tinges of regret, maybe you should just go back to the château and hope he forgives you...
it's already too late though because jj is right behind you, trying to be as silent as possible. he puts a hand over your mouth and an arm around your waist.
you already know who it is so you don't freak out, feeling oddly more relaxed than you did a second ago. putting your own hand over the one he had covering your mouth. looking up at him, you take in that crazed look he has, eyes dilated so much that you can barely see the blue in them, his usual shit-eating grin replaced with a blank expression
"don't scream…...okay? can you do that for me? hm?" he questions, waiting until you nod "yes" to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, placing a calloused hand on your ass for whatever reason, you wince at the unfamiliar but not unwelcome feeling.
opening the door to the twinkie with one hand, he places you into back and puts a finger to your mouth, gesturing you to keep quiet.
he goes and gets your bike, hitching it to the bike rack on the back of the van.
finally, sliding the side door open and climbing into the back with you. "so." he says, crossing his arms.
"do you wanna talk now?" he sighs
you crawl on your knees to him and bury your head into his chest, or try to at least. He grabs you by your shoulders and sits you up "are you fuckin' serious, weren't you just trying to go to rafe's house, you ditch me and still try to act like nothing happened?"
he pushes away from you.
"i'm sorry, okay! i fucked up, i was just mad, i should've listened." you wait for him to look back at you but he doesn't. "jay, please, I'm sorry, okay?" you plead, starting to get desperate.
you scooch closer to him and put your hand on his back, trying to break through the distance between you two. "you're my best friend, I know you were just trying to look out for me, l'll listen next time. I promise.” putting your head on his shoulder, hoping he'll forgive you.
"you wanted to go be with rafe so bad, didn't you? go then, i don't care anymore." he laughs "let that dirty kook have you, that's what you want, isn't it? I can't protect you from yourself anymore."
he expects you to go back into the house, his brow raising as he realizes you're starting to cry. "now what? you're not gonna go?" grabbing you by the chin, he wipes your tears.
"speak, c'mon. you're a big girl, use your words." he says harshly, making your muffled cries grow louder. “don't get all shy on me now, where's that attitude you had in the house? can't have rafe seeing you like this, can we?" jj lets go of your chin and cups the side of your face instead, brushing his rough thumb over your soft, tear streaked face.
"don't...wanna go, jay, just wanna stay with you" You mutter, looking up at jj through your lashes, trying to suppress your shaky voice.
“all of a sudden…..don't wanna do what you came for anymore, hm? don't play dumb, I know you like the back of my hand" he says.
he's not mad, he's just disappointed, which is worse. your lip starts to quiver and you try to cover your face out of embarrassment.
"hey.." he calls "you're really not gonna go?" he questions. you wipe your face with the back of your hand and shake your head "no".
"good, that's what I fuckin' thought, c'mere" he motions for you to come to him, laying back on the cushions in the twinkie.
you crawl in between his legs and lay over his chest, a familiar warmth washes over you, you feel safest like this. " 'm sorry, jayj, won't do it again." you sniffle.
"trust me, you won't” jj smacks your ass and sits you right on his lap, the shit-eating grin you love so much finally returning. "still mad at you, y'know." he whispers in your ear
"i'll make it up to you, 'kay?" you start unbuckling his belt, his mouth hanging agape. "shit, forgot to ask, is this okay?" you stop dead in your tracks "mhm, ‘s okay" he answers, eyes starting to gloss over.
you go right back to work, tossing his belt aside and starting to unbutton his pants, looking right at him again "jay, please don't go quiet on me, say whatever you want, just wanna hear you..." you admit
"my bad, i, uh... just been imagining something like this forever. kinda in shock, y'know." he shrugs, trying to avoid eye contact. “take these off for me." you borderline demand.
"yes ma'am." he immediately slips his jeans off of him, fidgeting with his hands, impatiently waiting for you to touch him again.
"need you to look at me when i suck it, can you do that for me?" you ask, palming his erection "i’ll try...” he whines at your touch, starting to get needy.
you slip your hand under the waistband of his boxers, biting your lip as you finally free his aching cock, already leaking precum.
"you okay there? you're allowed to talk, y’know?" you let out a giggle, trying not to burst out laughing at how jj is looking at you right now, like this is all he's ever wanted.
“is it bad that I kinda want rafe to come out here and see you with my dick all in your mouth? cum all over your mouth, my cum." he laughs, eyes fluttering open again at you brushing your thumb over his sensitive tip.
jj winces at your touch, voice starting to catch in his throat “hey..” he meets your gaze as you finally take him in your mouth, causing his eyes to clench shut. “fuck...a little bit of a warning would've been nice." he mewls.
you look away, trying to keep him from seeing you struggle to deep throat his cock. he throws his head back in pleasure, nearly hitting it on his own motorcycle helmet he'd thrown back there forever ago.
"try to stay still, can you do that for me, jay?" he nods frantically, tossing the helmet into the drivers seat of the van. you pump him in your hands a few times "stop teasing me...fuckin' shit." he pants.
he was so beautiful like this, pupils widening at your every touch, his hair a mess, and his face flushed pretty shades of pinks and reds.
you start up again, feeling him hit the back of your throat, you feel a familiar wetness pooling in between your thighs so you try to hurry up in making him cum so you can get to the château and finish what you started.
almost feeling like you're dreaming, jj’s sweet moans bring you back you to earth. " 'm gonna cum...fuck." he gasps as you swirl your tongue around his throbbing head.
soon enough his hips start to buck into your mouth, spurting thick, hot ropes of his seed onto your tongue. his hands quick to root themselves deep into your hair to keep himself from shaking so hard.
you pull off of him, wiping your lips as fast as you can and opening the side door up again to try to get into the passenger's seat, ready to get home. JJ grips your wrist, pulling you back into the van and shuts the door "you're really just gonna get up and leave after that?" he sighs.
you inch towards him, finally curling up in his lap on the seats in the back, waiting for him to speak again. he runs his fingers over your back then raises your face to his eye level. "look at me." he says, wiping the spit from earlier off your chin and tucking some loose hair strands behind your ear. putting his hands on your shoulders, he stops and takes a good look at you.
"you're bigger than i thought you'd be, y'know..” you say, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable silence between the two of you. a wheeze escaping his biten lips. “wow, okay” he smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "so you've thought about it then? i don't know if i should be offended or not" jj teases, his singular dimple becoming visible with how big he's grinning.
"no, no, it's a good thing! I think..." you giggle, beginning to play with his already tousled hair, pursing your lips in amusement at how the situation had changed so quickly.
you snap out of your hazy state and noticed the strange look on his face, gaze flickering from your lips then back up to your eyes as he starts to lean in closer to you. "hi.” he whispers sweetly. "nono, jj, back up!" you laugh, playfully covering your face, feeling him pressing soft, quick kisses on your check and down your neck.
you two roll around in the back until jj has you pinned underneath him, one hand holding the both of your wrists above your head and the other one wiping the sweat off his forehead. "are you gonna behave?" he huffs.
"no." you tease, kneeing him in the chest. "can I kiss you, for real this time? he asks. “you literally came in my mouth not too long ago, no!" you stated. he lets go of your wrists and rubs the back of his neck, waiting a bit before he sighs. " i don't care, y’know, i’ll still kiss you..” almost staring into your soul at this point. you can tell he's serious.
"okay?" he questions, "alright..." you say, letting him take over. jj places his hands behind your neck and begins biting at your already swollen bottom lip, the both of you laughing as your foreheads bump together.
finally, he kisses you properly for the first time in all the years you two have known eachother and it just feels right, like everything will be okay.
“that was nice." you plant a kiss on his forehead, wanting to stay like this for just a little bit longer. “don't know why we waited so long. not that i'm complaining." he smirks.
this is what you both needed, what you two craved all this time. and it was finally yours.
#jj maybank#jj maybank x fem!reader#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank smut#jj maybank fic#obx#obx fic#obx fanfiction
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MINORS DNI 18+
ANAKIN SKYWALKER who pissed you the fuck off. Who’s earned himself a one-way trip to the doghouse. Who tries to talk his way through the silent treatment, everything from questions to pleas to shouting. You won’t have it, and it kills him to be ignored.
“Well, fine! Be that way.” he announces loudly throughout the house, storming to the opposite side to leave you completely alone. He punishes you for being upset with him, for needing space from him. Your unhealthy response is met with his in poetic turn.
He sleeps by himself that night. Even though sleep is inaccessible, he lies on his back with his arms crossed over his chest. The delicate crease in his brow has deepened to a permanent crevice, scowling at the light fixture in the ceiling. He can’t even recall exactly what caused this disruption and he certainly doesn’t believe it’s his fault. Whatever stance he took that offended you is clearly his private beliefs and you should’ve respected that. His metal fingers tap in a wave across his bicep, and he picks up his head to glance at the doorway of the living room as if you would be there to greet him. No such thing. You’re probably fast asleep in the comforts of your shared bed, the bed you so carelessly kicked him out of.
The couch is uncomfortable. The material is smooth but naturally cold against his bare back and his thin black pants. He’s used to his many covers, and a body next to him.
A warm, smooth body. He misses it. Soft and creamy in texture, he misses the way it winds around him. But you’re being difficult. As if you’re a princess, every interaction between the two of you has been scrutinized with extreme prejudice by your judgmental eyes. You questioned his every move towards you, every touch, every word. Your wrath knew no bounds and now he’s cold and alone and it’s your fault. He doesn’t want you. He doesn’t want you near him, holding him, running your hands through his hair. He doesn’t want your massages that release muscle tensions he didn’t even know he had, he doesn’t want your kind smile against his ear as you whisper your dirty little secrets, he doesn’t want your experienced hand running down the hair at his abdomen to caress him through his sleepwear.
You’ve had a prissy little attitude he could fuck out of you, if he wanted to. His grip on his bicep tightens, sharp spite taking root within his heart as he curses himself in Huttese. There’s a dirty word he’d like to call you right now, he’d like to sneer it in your face in a language you can’t understand just so you can be offended without reason. It’ll give you a taste of the betrayal’s he’s felt this night.
The chaise he lays on is not long enough for his body, his bare feet hang off the arm rest, and he shifts so he can plant them there. Once properly leveraged, he straightens his legs so he pushes himself up to more of a sit as a sneer twitches at the corner of his nose. He has half a mind to go disturb you while you peacefully slumber, interrupt you with his jealousy over your comfort and demand that if you have a problem with him that you should be the one to leave. You’d fit on this useless couch anyway. A yelling match would surely ensue; he’d be able to raise his voice over yours and finally make you understand his point of view. You’d be so eager to make it up to him, so keen to please him that you’d do anything, wouldn’t you? Pondering its possibilities has his left hand lured to the sudden ache between his legs.
You’d be so broken up over how coldly you’ve treated him, you’d spoil him. You’d pamper him with apologies and compliments he’d ignore, you’d beg to rub his sore shoulders and arms so that he’d look at you again. Kisses would be planted wherever you could reach, and he’d direct you with a palm on your head to where your lips belong. Sweetly you’d worship on his manhood, coaxing him to attention with patience and enthusiasm until he’s ready to free it. Wouldn’t matter how long he’d let you perform for him, you wouldn’t say a word about rushing him. Briefly, he considers the notion that you’d let him bat it against your cheek, and rub it on your face. He’d hump your head just to see the thick mix of fluids coat your pretty features. If he’s feeling particularly vengeful, he might fuck your throat with the intent to hurt, the intent to choke. You’d have to campaign for his mercy by flattering for his ego because if you’re too pitiful he’ll be too inclined to suffocate you with his every inch plugging your airway. Big hands at the back of your head to keep you pinned while you sputter and spray around his base. Your mess of stringy saliva would dribble down his balls and catch on the hair on his thighs.
A noise of the house creaks and his eyes fly open. His hand has come to caress himself, balled around his solid shaft that pulses with need. He can practically feel the blood pump through it, the sensitive skin burning for relief as he’s rawed it against the material of his pants.
He pushes through the discomfort, and plunges the hand down his waistband, fisting his red hot cock with a callused grasp.
#indy: drabbles#ch: anakin#anakin skywalker drabble#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x female reader#anakin skywalker x you#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker x reader smut#anakin smut#anakin x reader#anakin x fem reader#anakin x you#anakin x y/n#anakin imagine#anakin fic#anakin fanfiction#reader insert
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hiii, love your stuff<33 could I maybe request a gen z reader blurb where after getting in a crash due to a mechanical issue everyone worries about her and she’s pissed because she felt seen as weak and vulnerable?? THANK U SO MUCH
life goes on
pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid and some seb cameo
summary: see request :)
word count: 2.1k
warnings: crash, blood, injury, anger issues, tears (idk if that’s a warning), media talks bad about genz!driver, foul language
note: thank you so much for the request!! i am not quite sure if i should write the genz!driver stories in a you pov or a she/her pov, what would you prefer, please let me know, ty :))
masterlist / taglist
It started with a bad day. FP1 was shit, FP2 was also not great. Her day was just not great. Free practice 3 was better, the car had finally responded to her again. In the first two laps, everything went smooth. She was already singing Smooth Operator in her head. But suddenly the car stirred, luckily she saved herself and didn’t crash, but she did retire from the session.
Her engineer and her sat together for Qualifying. She told him everything she noticed whilst driving.
„I feel like the steering wheel is not responding on time. It’s like it’s two seconds delayed, which is not good.“
He nodded and wrote it down on a notepad. „I feel like there’s nothing we can do, I can check with the mechanics, but qualifying is in two hours, which may not be enough time“, her race engineer told her. She sighed. The last two days were bad for y/n, she hasn’t slept good for at least four days. She nodded and told him that she’d be in her drivers room.
As qualifying started, she only got in one good lap before she had to retire. She was right, her steering wheel indeed had a slight delay. Which made turning corners very hard. She ended Q1 in P19, her worst result in qualifying yet. She was disappointed, in herself and in the car.
Her mechanics tried to fix the issue until the race started, but with no hope. She prepared herself for the race, knowing it would not be an easy one. She was scared, like scared shitless. She tried to call Sebastian during Q2, but he did not pick up. Opting for a quick text, she asked him to call her back as soon as possible.
Lewis heard what happened to y/n car during Q1 and wanted to comfort the young driver. With long strides he went to her motorhome. Her engineer just pointed to her drivers room as soon as he saw Lewis approach him. Three short knocks. Her head snapped up as the door opened. Lewis was standing there, looking pitiful and held his arms out.
„Are you okay, darling?“, he asked her as she nuzzled her head in his shoulders. She let her tears fall freely. Shaking her head she told him how she felt. „The steering wheel is delayed, which is so difficult to drive with and also dangerous. But my mechanics can’t fix it, they don’t know why it’s happening and a whole reboot of the system would take too long! I’m scared, Lewis. I don’t know what to do.“
His hand firm on her backside, he just held the young woman. Telling her to retire to not cause a crash would’ve been the best thing. Tell her to refuse to race. But he didn’t, knowing the girl and her ambitions. She would race, no matter what. She didn’t want to be seen as weak or even worse, girly.
She was girly, but not in the sense of racing. She was just as ‚manly‘ as the other drivers.
„I know that you will make the right decision about the whole situation“, Lewis told her. Oh, how wrong he was.
Q3 was finished with Verstappen on pole, as always, Perez on P2 and Leclerc on P3. Happy to see Charles starting this high, she went into the race with somewhat a good feeling. The first three laps were okay, she sank down to P20, DeVries overtook her with ease on the second corner, as she slowed down as much as possible to control the car. But the longer the race was, the more angry she got. It was not fair, the steering wheel was just not responding.
On lap 24 y/n’s car crashed. In corner eight, her steering wheel stopped working. Instead of a turn, the car just went straight into the pit wall. The front wing smashed against the wall, squashing it against her own car. Her head was spinning. What just happened?
„Red flag, the FIA just announced a red flag in corner eight. Seems like y/l/n crashed. Let’s hope she’s fine.“
Several team radios went through.
„Charles, y/n crashed in corner eight, there’s a red flag, be careful.“
„Lewis, there is a red flag.“
„Be careful, Max. You are approaching corner eight where y/n has had a crash.“
And many more. Everyone was concerned. What has happened? What did she do to crash her car like that. Was she responsive? Responsible? What was going on?
„y/n, please respond. The race has been stopped. What happened?“, her race engineer tried to speak to her, she was non-responsive.
„What the fuck, what happened?! Is she responsive? Are the medics on their way?“, Lewis was the first to address the situation. „We don’t know, we don’t see any medics yet, Lewis.“
And as Max pulled up to corner eight he hopped out of his car. He ran towards hers and yelled for her, to show him a sign that she was still alive, without a response. He was worried, he was always worried when someone crashed, but he was extra worried when she did.
„y/n! What happened? Are you okay? Please give me a sign!“, he tried it again, with no luck. He saw her helmet move, the flashy colours moving from side to side. „Ach godzijdank Ah, thank god“, he mumbled.
The medics arrived and ushered Max to the side. Taking her out of the car and laying her on a spinal board. Transporting her into the ambulance.
She was devastated. It was not her fault she crashed. But the media didn’t know that. They would accuse her of crashing yet another car. That she wasn’t good enough to be in Formula 1. They would report about her as if she wasn’t a human being and just something they could play with. They would talk about her like a doll. It was not fair.
Meanwhile on the paddock the talking began. Lewis was the most worried, he should’ve just told her to refuse racing. What if she suffered a serious injury? Like a neck or spine injury and couldn’t race anymore. It was his fault, that’s what he thought.
Lando was worried too, not really knowing what happened, he was just worried. She could be injured. The minutes went by without any news from her. They were hard for Lando.
Even Checo, who wasn’t usually a companion of y/n, was worried. He didn’t see what happened, but he heard from Max how the crash looked - bad, it looked bad.
„We hear from the medics; y/n is okay. At least that. Let’s hope the race will continue without another crash.“
Lewis released a breather, not knowing he heals so much air in his lungs. He was glad y/n was okay. He still felt bad, always feeling responsible for her. And now that she crashed, his head was spinning with gut wrenching thoughts and worry.
The FIA announced the green flag and the race continued without y/n. When she got back to her garage, her motorhome, she expected a angry team principal, angry mechanics and engineers, expect she was greeted with relieved sighs and shoulder droppings. Her engineer was the first one to embrace her. He told her how sorry he was and how everything was definitely not her fault.
She was still angry, no points, no race, no happy ending for that day. Everything was shit. She had a shit day that race. And it was not even her own fault.
Her team principal came towards her, gripping her shoulders hard and said: „I know this seems bad, it is, but we can fix it. I wish I could send you home, but media still awaits.“
So she waited, she waited lap after lap until eventually Max won the race. She waited until her PR got her out of the drivers room and took her to the media pen, where the post race conferences will be held.
Sky Sports interviewed the todays winner. So, y/n waited for Max to finish. She hoped he would never finish, that she would never have to face the camera and talk about the incident.
But that didn’t happen.
„Hello y/n, how do you feel? Everything okay, no pain?“, the nice interviewer asked her. „Uh, yeah, everything is fine“, she struggled with her answer, not believing herself that everything was fine.
„Can you tell me what happened? We just saw you crashing?“ - „Uhm, yeah“, she looked towards her media PR, what was she allowed to say? She shook her head - no bad words about her team. „I-, uh, I lost control of my steering wheel.“
The interviewer nodded. „We saw you retire from the race after Q1, having struggled already in FP1 and 2. Did you have problems with your steering wheel during them as well?“
She sighed. She was tired, her neck ached and she just wanted to be in her bed.
„I mean, kind of, yeah you could say I struggled with it during free practice.“
If she told the interviewer that she struggled with it during the whole yesterday and today, she would’ve bad mouthed the team.
„Last question for today, y/n. We asked Twitter for some comments, would you be so kind to make a statement to some of them?“
She really didn’t want to, knowing exactly what most of them had to say; women don’t belong in motorsports, etc.
„Sure“, she sighed. Her PR nodded, happy that y/n decided not to refuse.
„Alright, @motodports_2 said: That’s the second time this season that y/n crashed her car and we are only on the 7th race. What do you have to say to that?“
She closed her eyes, the headache creeping in like a madman with a desire to kill. „That’s true, that was the second crash of the season. And I am sorry for that, my team doesn’t deserve me crashing that many times during the season. I apologise.“
Sebastian was sitting at home, watching the race from his couch. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. The team doesn’t deserve a driver that crashes so much? Bullshit.
He missed her calls earlier that day, he wished he would’ve picked up his phone or at least called her back. But what she was telling to that interviewer was absolute bull.
Charles, who was next in line, also couldn’t believe the stuff you were telling Sky Sports.
„Okay, @maydrive says: The way y/n is throwing away her career in F1 with those shenanigans. Get a grip, will you?“, the interviewer read from the screen in front.
Charles was shocked, he never had to respond to any comments like that. How was she experiencing something like that?
„Uh yeah, thank you @maydrive for that. I will try to get a grip, and you are right, I am throwing away my F1 career like that, but I don’t want that, that’s why I will keep trying to get better“, her eyes were starting water. Just don’t let those tears fall, y/n. They want to see her cry, don’t give them the satisfaction of it.
„Thank you, y/n. Rest up and good evening!“
Her PR pulled her away and onto the next interview. After all that, she was exhausted. Exhausted and angry. How could they be asking her questions like that? Not fair.
Back in her garage, she let the emotions flow. Tears were streaming down her face, sobs were heard and her body was shaking. Her PR handed y/n her phone, leaving her again with a gentle pat to the shoulder.
Seb was calling her.
„Before you say anything, don’t let them treat you like that ever again. Not your fault, if you had problems with the steering wheel, it is not your place to apologise“, Seb interrupted her, before she could even sob into the phone. He heard sniffles. „Don’t cry, liebes dear. You did nothing wrong today.“
„Seb, I wish you’d be here“, she sobbed into the phone. It broke his heart. Comforting someone over the phone was hard, much more if the person being comforted was a teenager.
„It’s gonna be okay, life goes on, okay?“, he told her. „I just feel so weak and vulnerable. They hate me, they always find something wrong with my driving.“
„You are not weak! Who told you that?“, a voice from behind her sounded from the dark. Fernando Alonso stepped out of the shadow. Seb instantly recognised the older spaniards voice over the phone. Glad y/n was not alone in a time like this.
Fernando embraced her. Hugging her tight and firmly. He felt her heartbeat against his chest, beating like crazy. „Breathe with me, y/n.“
They were standing in her motorhome, embraced in one another. If a camera had noticed, headliners would say: Alonso and y/l/n dating confirmed? But there was no camera around.
She had her family here in F1. She belonged here, just as much as any other driver. She was not at fault. She was not weak or vulnerable. She was strong.
°°°
taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23
#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#sebastian vettel x reader#fernando alonso#gen z problems#gen z funny#genz!driver#female driver#genz driver#crash#f1 crash
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