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#and would it be the SMART thing to do to trust him to do better than last time?
blingblong55 · 2 days
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Gold Rush- Vladimir Makarov
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Based on a request: heyy! I love your writing style and am I big simper for makarov!<3 Ignore this if you don't want to do it but what about reader being apart of makarov's crew and him falling in love with them during a mission. Thank you sooo much if ur going to do this!<333 ---- F!Reader, fluff/romance? ----
Being part of Konni was always a risk, especially when the rest of the world is against you and your teammates. Makarov, the man who started everyone just so happened to be by your side in this mission. He was rough, cold and serious, rarely making jokes unless you were a part of his inner circle. Tonight, he leads the team through yet another dangerous mission. 
You were walking towards another part of the enemy base when he stopped you. He shakes his head, "Too risky, take left," he commands but you know this place best. "If I take left the guards will notice me, this way is their blind spot, trust me," you voice above a whisper. "If you get us caught-"
"I won't," you cut him off. 
For nearly three hours, the team and you sneaked around, gathering as much intel as possible before sunrise. 
By the time the helo had arrived, he allowed you to go first, weird for a man like him to care about such things. On the way back to base, he sits beside you, "Smart move back there, Y/n," he says in a much softer voice. What he hadn't expected was for him to develop a soft spot for a person in his team, much less you. 
It didn't start tonight, no, this took time to develop. 
About two years ago, that is when he first noticed you. The team and you were just hanging around, it was an odd day, with no work or worries. He watches how his men laugh, how you sit by the corner, listening but not engaging and he takes note of that. With time, he notices how blunt you were, how you didn't glorify anything, especially not him. All others did, well those who were allies to his so-called 'cause'. 
You didn't mean to be mean when you were honest, you just said things like how you saw them, even with him. Another thing he noticed was how shy you were, but when asked your words spoke differently to how you are. 
With time, he found himself smiling at what you did, the dumb jokes only you and the person telling them understood. Secretly, he began to memorise you. It would be a fear to others if he did this but in this light, it was romantic. He began to notice the smile you had when you'd read a book and it got to an interesting part. 
One night, he sat down on some stairs, looking up at the starry night as smoke ran in his lungs. He did this only when he knew you'd be jogging around base, sleepless nights were your excuse but he knew the real reason. 
Others noticed how kind he was to you, how he never laughed when you were the butt of the joke. It became clear when he would only beeline to you when books were in his hand. All in Russian but as he said, "The author made it in Russian because the emotions are better written."
He always had a book he needed you to read. In some cryptic way, the words between pages and titles were his way of being a poet to the girl in the jogging shoes. 
Tonight, as the team arrives back on base, he asks you to stay back. 
Why be feared if you, yourself fear something?
The walk to his office was calm, screw whoever said comfortable silence was overrated. This silence with him was nice, it was...beautiful in some way. 
"I wanted to...say something I think is idiotic to say, especially for a man like me," he starts. Your gaze on his soft eyes, those heterochromatic eyes. 
He takes a deep breath and continues, "I like you. I like all about you and I think I would be a fool if I never said this. You can act as shy as you want, and pretend I annoy you, but I want a lot of things with you. I've read poems that remind me of you. I like our night routines, I like how you know the real me. I like how everyone here adores you...at least I do. I didn't like how you have become the only person I get nervous around but...now, I do. But I do hate that you make me feel excited, happy and hopeful and that you know me better than anyone. I hate worrying about you so if you must, reject me now so I can have a real reason to hate myself too."
His eyes desperately looking at yours and when a smile appears on that beautiful face of yours, he smiles too. 
For three months, he and you get close. Milena, the woman everyone, even the enemies, thinks is his lover only stays close so she can finally see a long-time friend happy. 
Everywhere he goes, those sweet eyes you've come to love steal glances at you. Small, secret smiles capture no one but the eyes of each other. He becomes the constant in your life as you do to his. 
In this world, he shouldn't show anyone his shiny toy. He mustn't since he knows others will break the one fragile thing he allows himself to have. So, like the flower-covered coat pockets in his home, he keeps you tucked away for when his hands can be fragile again.
Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @rvivienner @frazie99 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @strangepuppynightmare @strawberrychita @Llelannie @anonymuslydumb @nobodys-coffee @rowrowrowyourboat13 @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @marshiely @baruque-ya @tuihiatus @iruzias @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo
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antianakin · 2 years
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So I've been thinking about those posts that have gone around protesting the fandom inclination to not like villain redemption arcs because of the puritanical values that go along with believing people don't deserve the "rewards" that come with redemption arcs, usually: love, acceptance, understanding, etc. and the idea that no person deserves to be denied the basic things every human being should be granted.
And, of course, applying that to Anakin.
Because as someone who does not truly LIKE Anakin, I'm usually the first person to not be inclined to forgive Anakin post-child murder, post-genocide, post-betrayal. I'm generally the first one to believe Anakin can't get better once he's chosen to do his worst. I've called him a rabid bear that just needs to be put down for his own sake and everyone else's. There isn't a cure at this point, he can't be saved or redeemed.
Even Luke doesn't really REDEEM Anakin, Anakin's still only doing what he does to save someone he likes. Great, he throws down a regime to save a family member, where have we seen him do that before? Oh right, when he threw down democracy to save his wife and instigated the beginning of the Empire. He didn't destroy the Empire because he wanted to make amends. He didn't kill Palpatine to save the galaxy he'd helped destroy. He didn't do any of it because it was just generally the right thing to do or because he recognized just how much pain he'd caused and was seeking to do better as a person overall. He does it to save ONE PERSON, and we can pretty solidly say, he wouldn't have done it for ANYONE ELSE, probably up to and including Leia.
Which makes me believe that had Anakin miraculously survived killing Palpatine, he wouldn't necessarily be a better person. He wouldn't truly work to make any kind of amends to the galaxy he'd brought so much pain to.
And what kind of amends could he even DO at this point that would make any kind of difference? He's committed like 167 genocides at this point, oppressed an entire galaxy, killed billions of children on a whim, destroyed whole planets. What can he POSSIBLY do to make any real amends for that? What could possibly make up for that in any meaningful way? He can't undo the Jedi genocide and quite honestly no one should ever let him near a Force sensitive person, especially a child, again. He can't undo the three decades of oppression, he can't undo the fact that the Republic that existed has been basically burnt to ash and needs to be rebuilt from scratch and, again, quite honestly, no one should ever let him near politics ever again.
The best thing Anakin Skywalker can do for the galaxy at this point if he manages to survive is just disappear from it. Whether he dies or just walks away and spends the rest of his life meditating on everything he's done wrong and leaving the galaxy he's brought so much pain to well enough alone, I don't care. Luke can go visit him if he wants to, I guess, but no one else should have to deal with him.
I think that's where my biggest grievance lies in any kind of "Vader Lives" AUs, or "Vader changes sides inexplicably post-genocide" AUs. Because generally, now EVERYONE ELSE IN THE GALAXY has to deal with him like he HASN'T committed genocide. Like he HASN'T murdered mountains of children for the sake of selfishness. As if he isn't someone who would happily do so again if it came down to it as we see in ROTJ when he happily brings down another government to save one person. If saving Luke in that moment had required another genocide instead of just killing Palpatine, we all know he'd have done it. He absolutely would've murdered any number of children to save HIS child. Because he hasn't truly changed and his motivations for saving Luke are almost exactly the same as the motivations he had for saving Padme, it's just that the requirements shifted and the galaxy got very lucky that saving Luke ALSO meant taking out the Emperor and Anakin himself.
Why should the galaxy at large be obligated to share it with someone who would have happily killed them all not so long ago, just because Anakin MIGHT one day learn to be a better person? Why are they obligated to just live the rest of their lives hoping he doesn't decide to go ahead and commit his 168th genocide if Luke stubs his toe on the wrong planet? Why is their fear acceptable in favor of Anakin getting a chance to be good?
Once he's decided double genocide is acceptable? Once he spends DECADES oppressing everyone he can find because misery loves company? I don't really see a way out for him that isn't vastly unfair for everyone else.
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snowsinterlude · 4 months
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🎀 - private classes, lacy panties and strawberry prints.
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summary: your mother and your father trusted coriolanus snow with their lives, especially seeing how good your grades have gotten. but of course, the way he made you pay attention to what you were learning was a secret.
content warning: oral recieving (f.), fem reader, squirting, mentions to a blowjob, thigh riding, snow teasing you both sexually and verbally, dirty talk, smut, p in v, nsfw (mdni), dom snow, sub reader, creampie.
w.c: 2.083
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first things first, you need to remind how coriolanus snow, heir of the snow name and everything that came to it, was now sitting between your legs, kneeling while his fingers teased your pussy through your panties.
on the dinner your father held to celebrate the development of his business growing up and being praised by the current president of Panem, your mother was in charge of the guest list, so of course she invited the Snow family, his cousin and his grandma'am.
you didn't expect it, but you should have expected that she would embarass you like this in front of your classmate.
"coriolanus, you're such a peach! i can't believe such a smart handsome young man like that still exists." you looked at her, lip syncing for her to stop, she didn't even bat an eye at you.
"i'm flattered, truly. but i'm sure i'm not the only one on the capitol with good manners." he said, smiling kindly at your mother. god, if he knew how your heart beat stronger when you saw this smile of his, you'd be damned. "your daughter, for exemple, is the sweetest girl i've ever had the pleasure to speak to. even though we only talked today." he said, the glass of posca on his hand travelling all the way to his lips but you could see how small his sip was.
"oh don't praise her too much, her grades are not as sweet as she is." she laughed, and you swear to god you preferred to die than to listen to that talk. "perhaps you could teach her a bit? i'd be glad to pay you."
"mom!" you called out, turning to him and shaking your hands "don't listen to her, please. truly, i don't want to bother you."
"non-sense, i'd be glad to teach you. and it would be even better actually, i'd have the chance to review the content of our classes." he smiled sweetly to you, and you thought you could melt right away from how shaky your legs were. "when can we start?"
he asked you, not your mother. you. and for the first time you felt seen, you felt like your opinion mattered.
"tomorrow, eight p.m..?" you asked, your eyes felt so wide looking at him, and he laughed, nodding positively.
"i'll see you at the library, don't be late." he patted your head. it was a swift move, and you blinked rapidly as you saw him walk away.
so, now, on your first class together, snow kissed you deeply, his hand gripping hard on your waist as you kissed him back. you didn't even know how it came to that by this point, but right now, it was the fifth library study meeting you had with him and the teasing he was making you pass through was too torturing.
"tell me, dear. what's the answer?" he asked, kissing your inner thighs and making your body shiver.
"i-i don't... i-i can't think straight like that, coryo, i-" he sucked on the fabric of your wet panties, your body jolting as his lips made contact with your sensitive clit, sucking on it and letting it go with a delicious wet pop sound.
"you can do better than that, c'mon. what's the answer, dove?" he licked you entirely, from your cunt to your clit, right through your panties. "you know you're not dumb, you just need to think harder."
"i-i know, i just- ah-" you moaned a bit when he pulled your panties aside, blowing on your clit and chuckling at how wet you were. so sweet, so pretty, he couldn't help but suck on your cunt.
"you're so sensitive, you just need to answer me and i'll let you cum, c'mon." he rubbed your clit a bit, slowly, your tears appearing as you sobbed a bit. "how many people Panem have in it's entirety?"
"3.5 m..million, coryo." you moaned out, thrusting your hips forward. it was too brain-mushing. you were looking so dumb and he didn’t even touched you directly- only his tongue.
"wrong, dear." he smiled to your despair, his lips kissing your clit before he sat by your side, pulling you to sit on his thigh with your back turned to him. "it's 4.5 million. c'mon, you knew it."
his hands found your waist pretty quickly, guiding you to ride his thigh back and forth, his kisses on your neck made you pout at the whole thing. he was such a tease.
"another question, if you get it right, i have a reward to you, okay?" you nodded submissively while he pinched your nipple, you didn't recall when but his hand slyly travelled to your boob through inside your blouse. "how many districts panem originally had?"
it was terrible. your pussy was grinding on his thigh like you were a bitch in heat, his pants were getting damped by you and you were oh so sensible it seemed like a joke.
"t-thirteen." you answered, and he smiled proudly, giving your clit a light slap which made you jolt violently. he sat you prettily on the desk, pulling his cock out.
"see? when you want to do get something right, you can. you just have to desire it." he said, passing his tip through your smooth wet pussy, his dick getting coated with your juices. "now, let's do some more to see if you got it right, okay?"
"mhm." you hummed, lips red and glossy, a result of the overstimulation you were recieving.
"good girl. now, how long did panem exist before the dark days?" he asked, kisses being placed on your neck.
"i-i don't know- i... uh, t..twenty years?" you attempted, only to be answered with his cock slapping your pussy, making you mewl.
"god, you're such a whiny baby. it's okay, i'll teach you that later. want to try another question?" he asked you, his tip teasing your hole. you nodded frantically. "good. now, why does the hunger games exists?"
"i-it's a punishment to the districts- because of the rebellion. a-and the rebellion is the motive to why d..district 13 don't exists anymore." he kissed you, smiling at you while pushing his dick inside, making you melt away any kind of inteligence you still had.
"god, you're so tight-" he moaned, thrusting slowly into you. the slowest he was, the more you cried, begging and sobbing for release, trying to move your hips on his dick. "shh, calm down, dove. it's just a few seconds and we'll be all good to go, okay?" he smiled when you nodded, pathetic. "such a good bitch. i'll let you suck my dick later."
your eyes seemed to shine at it, your mouth felt like drooling. "t-truly?"
"uhum. you've been such a good girl, let's make this your reward, okay?" you nodded frantically.
"t-thank you." and he thrusted faster into you, his rhythm quickening up more and more to the point your breasts were bouncing and he couldn't help but suck on them, his mouth messily sucking your nipples and fondling them kindly.
"you're so good to me, i can't help myself around you knowing your pussy feels so good on my cock." he growled, lips brushing on your as he spoke, kissing you messily while you moaned into the kiss, your pussy squeezing on him and milking his cock. "you're already cumming? god you're so desperate." he chuckled, pulling out of you while you cried out, your pussy clenching, missing his dick.
however, your leg was on his shoulder already, while his mouth sucked your pussy just as eagerly as you wanted to suck his dick, your scent filling his senses while he nipped lightly on your clit making you grip on his hair, your warm gummy walls squeezing his two fingers into you, but of course, two fingers weren't the same as his dick.
but, to your pleasure, he had the perfect fingers to your pussy, thrusting them quickly on your pussy while you melt away, calling his name, trying to warn him.
"c-coryo, coryo! p-please- g-god, stop! stop! i-i n-need to pee- i-" he smiled on your cunt, you were so innocent sometimes, how could you not know that this was just your body wanting to squirt?
he opened his mouth, sucking more of you on him, you moaned and cried out, squirting on his mouth as he smiled at you.
"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i didn't want to-" he pecked a kiss on your lips, chuckling as you licked it, tasting yourself.
"that's a squirt, baby. that's not piss." he said, putting his cock inside of your overstimulated pussy, filling you entirely. "you should've seen your face, so cute."
"t-that's not funny" you said, nails scratching his shoulders and neck while he thrusted faster into you.
"yes, it is. you looked like a whore, you know?" he kissed your temple, licking the tears on your cheek. "all needy and wet for my dick. as if i haven't fucked you yesterday too."
"'s because y-you're too mean!"
"mean? me? and how is it?" he thrusted faster, pinching your nipples and making you mewl your cries out.
"y-you're always teasing me, a-and your fingers, t-they're always teasing my pussy too. you know it!"
"i know." he chuckled. "i can't help it. you're always so pretty and dolled up for me, you can't blame me for fucking you when your pussy is milking my cock like that." he said, nibbling on your nipple.
"c-coryo, i-i think i'm gonna cum again" you warned, but he didn’t care, and even when you did cum, he kept going until his balls twitched, his cum filling you up while your eyes were squeezed shut and your mouth was all red from all the times you bit your bottom lip.
"god, such a pretty bitch." he whispered, making you shiver while he pulled alway and dressed you on your pathetic panties again. "you're gonna sleep with my cum inside you, okay? i want you to."
you nodded in a pathetically submissive way, too dumb to contest.
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"dear! dear, y/n's report card is here!" your mother yelled to your father, making you mewl in discontempt as you got out of your room with coryo, who had to stop mid way to get your hair brushed by his fingers and quickly straight your clothes.
"oh my.." your father seemed surprise as he analysed your grades. proud, even. since he always seemed too unhappy with your grades.
"what is it?" your mother asked, looking over his shoulder.
"her grades are much better than ever, great heavens, i can't believe it. it's almost a miracle!" your father said, smiling proudly. "dear, i'll let you have your credit card back, you can buy whatever you want okay? daddy will buy your favorite cake later." he said, patting your head and turning to coryo. "boy, i need to thank you, how can i ever repay you?"
"you don't need to, sir. i'm glad to help your daughter anyway." he said, smiling as your father patted his shoulder. "i can keep on helping her if it is of your liking."
"yes, please. it would be incredible if you did." your father said, giving your report card to your mother, who squealed happily while hugging you and saying something about framing your report card in a gold rosé frame. "but i may ask, coryo.."
"yes?" he asked.
"how did you get her to memorize it? we hired the best particular teachers in the capitol and she never improved. how did you do it?" your father asked.
"ah... it is just a particular studying method i invented. i'm afraid it is a secret, sir." coriolanus laugh filled your ears, and you wanted to laugh too, but you licked your lips only, tasting his dick on your lips.
"i understand it. please keep doing the good job. i'm glad you're teaching my daughter." your father said, giving you two permission to go back to fucking studying.
when you arrived to your room, coryo locked the door and you immediatly dropped to your knees, unbuckling his pants as you salivated eagerly for him.
"i'm proud of you, dove." he smiled, caressing your hair as you smiled too, his cock slapping your face a bit once it got out of it's confines, but you didn’t care, next thing you knew was that your head was bobbing on his cock and your panties were fulfilled by the time he left.
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oh-katsuki · 3 months
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it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops
cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,
wc: 3.1k
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nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.
frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.
he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.
you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.
you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.
"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."
"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."
"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."
nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.
"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."
"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.
"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."
"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."
nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.
you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.
you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.
you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.
one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.
"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.
nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.
"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."
"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."
you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"
"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."
nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.
you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.
nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."
"sorry," you say.
"don't be," he responds.
this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.
"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.
"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.
"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."
you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.
you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.
"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.
nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.
you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.
"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."
nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.
"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.
"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.
"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."
you shake your head, "you."
nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.
you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.
something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.
nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.
"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."
nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.
"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.
you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.
you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.
nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.
your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.
for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.
you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.
instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.
you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.
"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.
nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.
nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.
you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.
"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"
you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."
nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.
"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.
something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.
nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.
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a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!
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eternally-racing · 2 months
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baby steps | lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 
genre: fluff
warnings: none 
word count: 2.5k
summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?
note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !
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When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 
The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 
“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 
You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.
“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 
“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”
While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 
“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 
“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 
Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 
You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 
“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 
Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.
 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.
The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 
Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 
But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 
“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 
“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 
Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 
When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 
“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 
You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 
“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 
Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 
“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 
“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 
The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.
At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.
“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.
It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 
Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 
“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 
You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 
It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 
It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.
You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 
“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.
“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 
----
author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍
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artemismoorea03 · 4 months
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DP x DC Prompt: The New Teacher
(So, I've seen a lot of prompts that have Danny go to Gotham and be a teacher but I don't remember seeing any with it in this direction, so on the chance that this is an original idea here we go!)
Jason was given a choice, or multiple choices. Babysit the Replacement on a mission that could last a week, go to Bludhaven and have some 'brother bonding time' with Dick who needed backup on a big case, or take a temp solo-gig in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere called Amity Park.
Well, considering he was still a bit hurt about the fact that B replaced him all those years ago and the pit loved to grab hold of that bit of frustrations towards his younger brother, that didn't seem like a smart idea. Dick wasn't an option either because he knew that would lead to 'talking about feelings' and other shit that he didn't want to do.
So he took the solo-gig.
It was supposed to be easy, at least that's what had been implied by the others he'd spoken to about the case. It seemed like most of the Justice League thought this situation was being 'exaggerated' because most of the time when somebody checked out what was going on there was nothing happening. No big take over, or kidnapping, or 'end of the world' situation, but there had been too many calls to put Bruce's mind at ease. The frequent calls mixed with the fact that the Government apparently had the area under a 'black out' made Bruce even more nervous.
Hell, if it hadn't been for the fact that Bruce was famous and that Scarecrow, Penguin and Riddler had all escaped from Arkham he would have been doing the case himself.
Which is how Jason ended up in a restraunt named 'Nasty Burger' looking at the news papers he had managed to get from a stand down the street while taking notes of things he had already seen. It wasn't just that the Government had cut them off, all of the tech in the city was easily 20 years outdated compared to the rest of the world.
Nokia phones, chunky computers, hell he'd even seen a kid with a PDA of all things. Thankfully, it looked like his tech still worked other than running slower than it should have, but thanks to modifications made by Barbara and Tim things were running better than he expected. But, they did struggle to have access to anything, specifically the news.
Hence the paper.
Ghost Boy: Friend or Fiend. A new vote cast by the city has found that the Ghost Boy - Danny Phantom - has had an astounding rise in support after the events over the Christmas Holiday. The new polls suggest that 43% of Citizens support Danny Phantom, with the majority of his support coming from the students at Casper High who insist that Phantom is a hero who has saved them countless times over the past few months. 49% of people still agree, however, that Phantom appears to be at the center of the majority of the attacks with many still claiming that he is the sole cause of the attacks. However, 8% of the population remain undecided, including many teachers, police and hospital staff. Upon seeing the new results of the pole Mayor Montez had this to say; "While I will admit that Phantom appears to favor the younger generation and frequently seems to come to their aid, we cannot forget what it has done in the past. Taken hostages, injured innocents, and caused millions in property damage. Phantom may not be a 'villain' in the typical sense of the word, but we shouldn't blindly trust him just because of a few good deeds."
So there was a... hero? Half hero - potentially villain - in Amity Park? That might have explained some of the calls they'd gotten from Amity park over the past few months. Still, he was concerned by some parts of the report.
Students at a high school were frequently coming under attack? So much that this potential-villain kept saving them? Just what was the cause? What could cause so many issues?
Jason looked up as he saw that same PDA kid talking with a girl with short black hair in a half-ponytail who was wearing a black crop-top. The girl seemed annoyed while the boy seemed worried about something.
"But it's Vlad, Sam... what if he does something?" He heard the boy whisper, "We should go back him up..."
"He doesn't need our help, besides Jazz ran away from home, remember? She got herself into this mess it's her problem to get out of it. Something that Danny should have learned a long time ago."
Jason frowned, pretending not to hear them as he hesitated then got up and walked over to the two younger teens. "Hey, excuse me."
The girl looked annoyed and suspicious while the boy looked confused.
"Uh, yeah?" Tucker asked.
"Hey, sorry to bug you both. But could you guys tell me about this... 'Danny Phantom' person?" He asked, holding the newspaper out.
The girl looked even more suspicious, "And... who are you?"
"And how haven't you heard of Phantom?" Asked the boy.
"I just moved to town." Jason admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, I'm just trying to catch up on all the town drama."
"You moved to Amity Park... willingly? Psh, what do you have, a deathwish?" The girl grumbled.
"Come on, I just moved from Gotham, which is worse?"
The girl blinked as the boy laughed.
"Furries vs Ghosts, who will win~" He said as the girl elbowed him. "Ow! What?!"
"Danny Phantom is a hero." The girl explained, "He showed up in April and has been protecting the town since."
"A hero, huh? Could always use more of those in the world, but the mayor seems to have it out for him."
Tucker sighed, "No kidding, man. Somebody framed Phantom for something really bad and no matter what he does to try to fix it the city just see's that incident as the only thing he's ever done. It was the first big 'public thing' outside of the high school so it was huge but it wasn't his fault."
The girl reached for her phone suddenly, looking at it before she answered. "Hey, Danny. What's up?" She was quiet for a moment, "Yeah, we're at Nasty Burger, wanna join us? Lunch on me?"
A quiet mumble came through the speaker before she smirked.
"I'll order for you then. Double or triple?"
More mumbles.
"Triple it is. See you soon." She said, then hung up. "Come on, Tuck, Danny is on his way for lunch."
"Hell yeah, see you later, dude." The boy said, then jogged off with the girl.
"A teacher? Yeah, it looks like there's some openings but why would you want to have your cover as a teacher?" Oracle asked as Jason sat in his hotel room, looking through the paper again.
"Most of the incidents seem to surround the High School, I want to see what's going on."
Oracle hummed, typing for a moment. "Alright, well as luck will have it, it looks like teachers are sparse at Amity High, at least from what I'm able to get using your connection... which is infuriatingly slow, by the way, are you sure you did it right?"
"I've done it a million times, of course I did it right."
Oracle grumbled, "Stupid Amity black-out. Okay, so you have options. Most of the teachers have fucked off so all of the teachers in Freshmen year switch around to cover lessons or do mixed lessons. For example the English teacher also teaches Math and the normal Math teacher also teaches Science. So it looks like you could have any position you want and the school would just shuffle around the teachers."
"You said English is taken, right?"
"Yep, the teacher is named William Lancer and he- oh... wait, he's on a leave of absence due to injuries he suffered over Christmas Break. Concussion, broken arm, and bruised ribs, he'll be out for a few weeks."
Jason smirked, "Perfect. Sign me up."
". . . Jason, the English and Math teacher... never thought I'd see the day. Alright, I'll type up your application, send it in and casually push it to the front of the line. You'll be official by the time Winter Break ends in a few days. So get studying."
"Sounds like a plan, but I'll be fine, I mean our family is crazy and i deal with criminals on a nightly basis. How hard could this assignment really be?"
He would regret asking that question by the end of his first day as an Amity High School teacher.
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Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly
I've spent the last five days working on this one.
p.s. it's 2k words...
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them. 
Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.
He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.
‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts. 
He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’ 
His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already. 
‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.  
When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off. 
‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.
Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back. 
‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up. 
Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’
‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended. 
 Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?
*
The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore. 
He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore. 
He was done.
*
You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible. 
 After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’. 
Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again? 
‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying. 
Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face. 
‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook. 
He was trying to dodge the question. 
‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.
‘’Then yes.’’
‘’How many times?’’
‘’Once.’’
His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going. 
‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’
‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’
‘’But if you had to say.’’
Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.
He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’
*
The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past. 
The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm. 
You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights. 
He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her. 
So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath. 
You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you. 
When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.
Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.
‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids. 
Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’
‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation. 
‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying. 
A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.
‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently. 
‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.
There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’ 
As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.
And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.
‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’ 
‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’ 
It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm. 
You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes. 
 ‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’
You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.
‘’What are you doing?’’
‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch. 
The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored. 
You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.
Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now. 
‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours. 
*
The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore? 
He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him. 
The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts. 
Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s. 
While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back. 
For the first time, what’s past was past.
‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter. 
Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.
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parkerpeter24 · 10 months
Note
HIII i am begging can you write a Peter Parker x reader one shot where peter and reader are married and have a toddler and maybe the avengers team find out PLISSSS ANS TYYYY 🫶🫶🫶
baby 🥺
pairing ➳ peter parker x reader
requests are open (but i barely write stuff)
masterlist
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“what is he doing on the ceiling?!” kate yelled as soon as you entered the lobby, searching for your little toddler ben. you rubbed your eyes as you approached a very baffled kate, “your child is on the ceiling! how are you so calm?!”
“it’s 7 in the morning.” you winced as you looked at ben, him giving you an excited look and extended his arm towards you, making you do the same, “come on, benny, come to mama.”
and he did so as, un-sticking himself from the wall as he perfectly landed in your arms.
your two year old was way better at this than peter when he had started out as spider-man. his hand kept getting stuck to different places and after a bunch of ripped t-shirts and a couple of haircuts, you bought him rubber gloves. however, that didn’t work either.
as your little boy nestled against your chest, you looked over to kate who still had surprise written all over her face, “he’s spider-man’s child.” you explained simply.
“but- what if he fell down?”
“oh, he wouldn’t. he’s way too smart for that, aren’t you, benny?” you booped his nose and he gave you a grin.
“yes, mommy.”
you and peter had kept your relationship secret for a couple of years, at least from peter’s superhero gang. so it didn’t come off as a surprise when the avengers found out that you two had a one year old. they were very disappointed in you two for not telling this big a thing but the second they saw ben’s cute little face and his smile, you were forgiven and everyone was happy.
when you agreed to move into the avenger’s tower, tony was more than excited. he added a bunch of toys to the huge playroom that was originally built for morgan.
you were surprised to see that thor was the most attached to your baby. he spent time with him and thursdays were reserved to thor and ben taking a tour of the city. you trusted thor, however you had only allowed this after ben turned two, which was only a few weeks ago.
whenever natasha was around, she would tell ben all kinds of stories about how she kicked bad people’s butts so that little kids could sleep peacefully at night and ben would adore those “tales” even though they were real.
“next time you find him on a ceiling, just show him a cookie, he’ll come right down.” you told kate as you patted ben’s back, gently lulling him back to sleep.
“if you say so.” kate replied, chuckling as she watched you for a minute, “you should get some more sleep too, you look tired.”
“he refused to sleep last night because tony let him have extra ice-cream.” you rolled your eyes.
you noticed ben had fallen asleep, already drooling over the material of your t-shirt as you carried him back to his crib, placing him securely under his blanket before you made your way to your own bed. your husband, peter was still fast asleep. you laid down on the bed, peter already pulling you closer as if it was a reflex. you felt his arm relax against you, his head resting close to your shoulder and soon you felt the soft caress of sleep take over.
the bedside clock showed 10:34 as time when your eyes opened again. the room was empty, peter and ben both gone. you quickly freshened up before making your way out of the room and into the main gathering area once again.
only this time you were greeted with everyone sitting around and laughing as steve held his shield on his lap with ben sitting on top of it.
“hey, babe.” peter was the first one they greeted you as he placed a kiss on your cheek and dragged you in the middle of whatever was happening.
“uh, what’s happening?” you asked, looking around.
“your child is stuck to cap’s shield.” tony said, an almost proud smile spread over his face to which steve gave him a glare.
“guess who inspired it.” natasha rolled her eyes at her two friends, however a small smile remained on her face at the little banter going on.
just then kate ran into the room, holding a cookie in her hand as she handed it to steve, “got it!”
“come on, kid.” steve said, waving around the cookie in the air in front of him. ben’s eyes lit up and steve smiled, “it’s yours if you leave the shield.”
however, cap’s efforts failed as ben reached out one hand to grab the sweet but didn’t move a bit to release his shield.
“i bribed him good.” tony shrugged as he sipped on his black coffee.
you watched the whole scene unfold, amused to say the least. you noticed peter snickering as he stood beside you. you smacked his chest lightly, “you think this is funny? go get your child.”
“and forget the spider-bike mr stark promised me? never.”
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simonrillleyyysss · 4 months
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simon with an s/o who is super duper smart!! like she studied astrophysics or SUMN and she’s like a researcher and she reads classic philosophy and is subscribed to a bunch of newsletters for different topics and she’s just,, so smart!! but not like street smart. she’s a clutz and she’s clueless and a bit dumb when it comes to the the day to day stuff and it’s so silly cause like. how. r u in such a prestigious field and you speak so eloquently yet also so silly stupid dumb?? it’s so cute
and his favourite thing is getting his smartypants nerdy little girlfriend into a babbling gushing mess under him, barely able to form coherent sentences as he bullies her soaked cunny :(( miss big shot researcher all fucked out and giggling, drooling and brainless AGHHRRN the brainrot is real
i love this!! socially unaware reader who’s a genius?? yes!!!
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Simon knows you’re intelligent, everyone does! You’re always spewing facts to him throughout the day, and he thrives for it! A new update about some snazzy topic, which he, does not entirely understand? Hell yeah! You’re happy and content, walking down the street with your hands linked, freehand scrolling through your phone.
“Oh!”
“Hm?”
“There’s a new—“
He’s so happy that you’re happy, doesn’t care if anyone else thinks you’re a snob, you’re not. You’re his smart cookie. His soft, silly smart cookie. He adores flexing it, too!
Sat on the sofa on a rainy day? He isn’t surprised when you’re nose is stuck in some big book about philosophical ideals and whatnot, peeks over your shoulder as his fingers tangle through your hair, kissing the back of your head.
“Seems snazzy.”
He mumbled lowly, hands squishing your cheeks from behind, watching you purse ur lips out.
“It is! It’s really interesting, would you like to read it after?”
“..I’ll pass, y’ can tell me about it, though. That’s better, innit?”
Watches you work from home, constantly. Finds it so interesting when you sit at your laptop, tapping at the keys so quickly while looking down at your big book of new information , all of which you’d written down recently, just sits at the corner of the bed and stares at you in awe.
Never trusts you to go out by yourself, always has you message him every once in a while when you’re out with your friends at dinner or anything—He’s not controlling, you can go out; but he just knows you’re not high in the social field of things, monkey say monkey do!
Smart? Yes, streetsmart? No.
So when you and him had went out shopping together, and some guy tried to hit on blissfully, happily unaware you? He was enraged, he knows you didn’t do anything, he knows it was all him, but he can’t help how angry it makes him.
Can’t help how he holds you down on the bed by your hips, thrusting his thick cock into your tight cunt, sniffling and whining in soft confusion, you didn’t do anything! So why was he ramming into your sensitive little pussy? Why was he abusing you softly and kissing your breasts if you didn’t do anything wrong?
“So-Mgmmng..Si—m’sorry!”
“Shhhh, Yr’ fine, sugar…I know y’didnt, jus’ stay quiet f’me, yeah?”
“A-mngh..Ohh, gosh! Are you mad at me?”
You gasped out, looking up at the blonde-haired man, who was softly peppering pecks along your perky nipples, cock slamming into you repeatedly, watching your eyes roll back and lips part.
“Course not, mad at him—Yeah? Thinkin’ he has a chance with my girl.. Thinkin’ he can fuck your pretty lil’ pussy as well as I do.”
“Mmnngghh.Can’t..NoooooOOT him!-“
He chuckled, jutting his cock further in you a few times to emphasise his point, watching you squeal in pleasure, back arching; His thumb coming to brush right circles against your aching clit, feeling you tighten and spasm around him as your orgasm washed over you!
Or,
When you’re sitting atop his lap, riding him lazily as he reads your latest draft, brows furrowed as his arm slung around your hip protectively, listening to your little moans and u intelligible babbles, slouching over slightly—feeling his hand squish your hip and seeing you instantly readjust your frame, practically drooling down your chin.
Smart literally, Dumb socially.
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literaila · 3 months
Text
sick
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru does not get the 'flu' that you have, or why you can't take megumi to the bookstore
warnings: symptoms of the flu, satoru is a bastard, cute kids
last part | next part
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*
year two.
you:  can you take megumi to the bookstore? i can't make it 
"megumi wants me to ask you what you mean by 'i can't make it.'" 
your phone rings as soon as the message is sent, making you groan and roll over in bed. your palms are sweaty, and your body feels a bit like you got eaten alive. 
you probably shouldn't have answered, but honestly, how can you be expected to make smart decisions in this state?
you sigh into the phone. "it means that i can't make it, satoru." 
usually, his voice would make you smile but right now it just makes you want to die. and sleep for a couple... billion years, at least. 
"megumi wants me to ask what you mean by that?" satoru says again like you can't tell he's grinning. 
"just let me talk to him," you sigh, turning over on your side, which does nothing to ease the ache in your abdomen, by the way. you feel briefly nauseous like you might need the bowl you dragged under the covers, but it eases. you swallow bile. 
"what's wrong?" satoru asks, still teasing, and doesn't put megumi on the phone because he has never, not once in his life done anything without an argument. 
really, why do you put up with him?
"nothing." 
"well you just forgot that both of the kids are in school right now, like they are every day, so..." 
you close your eyes, pulling the covers up even higher. "oh. yeah." 
"did you get hurt, or something?" satoru asks, no concern evident in his voice, "going on another mission?" 
"no." 
satoru is silent, waiting. and you really truly do hate him. anyone else would just do you this favor. 
but not your best friend, no, he does nothing you ask. 
"i'm sick," you tell him, after a whole minute of silence. 
you can almost hear it as his brows furrow. "what?" 
"i have the flu or something," you cough into the receiver, hoping that it hurts his ear. 
"how?" 
"ugh," you groan, trying to rub the ache out of your jaw. "not all of us are immune to getting sick, you freak. will you take megumi to the bookstore for me? please?" 
"i don't think he wants to go with me." 
"satoru," you whine. 
"...and also i'm not allowed to enter the premises anymore." 
you sniff, wishing that you had more tissues, "what? since when?" 
"a couple weeks ago," he answers, nonchalantly. you can hear him moving around, probably wreaking havoc on the house you'll have to deep clean in a couple of days. 
not to mention your room. seriously, getting sick is the worst. 
"why?" 
"nuh uh," he says to you, very seriously. "that's between me and the children. they swore me to secrecy, and you're the one that's always going on and on about trust and how easily it's broken..." 
"you mean that you swore them to secrecy." 
"i bribed them," satoru agrees as if it's not an insane thing to say about your seven and eight-year-olds. 
"with what?!" 
"tsumiki took the offer of picking whatever takeout she wanted, and i think megumi was just glad i couldn't bring him anymore, the brat." 
you can hear his eyes roll, and the mention of the little boy's name reminds you of why you're having this discussion in the first place. 
"satoru... i really can't take him and i promised we'd go today," you groan into your pillow, voice feeling very sore. you shouldn't be talking to this insane man right now, you should be asleep. 
he pauses. "i can wear a disguise, i guess?" 
you groan again, hopefully, louder. "no, you're right about him not wanting to go with you." 
"rude." 
"i guess i'll just..." you attempt to sit up for the third time, feeling a bit dizzy as you do so. "i'll take some medicine and see if i feel better by the time they get out of school."
you're already mentally checking your medicine cabinet, not even sure if you have anything to help this ease by later in the afternoon. just some pain relief would be nice, but if you're contagious...
"what? no."
"well, you can't take him," you answer, still annoyed. 
"he doesn't need to go..." 
you hope that satoru can feel your scowl. "i promised." 
"he's a reasonable kid..." satoru says, clearly not remembering the brooding that happened the last time megumi had to re-read one of his books. "i think." 
you're silent. 
"look, i'll talk to him, okay?" he settles on, finally. "and i'll give him a couple hundred yen, it'll be fine. 
your mouth opens, and you cough, before, "no, satoru--" 
"get some rest," he exclaims, unpleasantly. 
"have him call me when you pick them up, satoru--" 
"don't die of the flu or anything." 
and then he's gone, and now you've got a headache, too. 
*
you think you might be dreaming when you open your front door.
the knocking had woken you up--you think--but with how long it took to walk from your room, into the hallway, and then the door, honestly, you might've fainted. or decided to take another nap against the wall. 
because once you open it, it feels like you've done this before.  
once again, three people are standing in front of you, two of them already arguing before you even take a step back to swing the door all the way open. 
the light hurts your head as you squint at the three of them. 
"it was my idea--" megumi is saying to satoru, grumpy, you know, from all day at school, and because he's talking to satoru.
"you're not taking all of the credit," satoru says back, "i bought everything." 
"'cause you're rich." 
"wow, so you're objectifying me?" 
"yes," megumi answers immediately, even though you doubt that he even knows what objectifying means (actually, you're pretty certain satoru doesn't even know). you cough, and it feels like something has died inside of you. 
the three of them turn towards you, tsumiki with a pleading look.
"it was my idea, okay?" megumi tells you before anyone else can say anything, and then he pulls tsumiki along with him as they move past you, through the door, into your apartment. 
yes, it's clear that satoru has raised them. 
"i said we should bring soup," tsumiki looks up at you, waiting for the praise she knows you'll give her. 
"our idea," megumi amends, easily. 
then they're out of your reach, going to sit on the very same couch they'd slept on a year ago, probably trying to escape satoru.
who you turn to, with a frown. his hair is so white it hurts to look at.
he points into your apartment, "those are devil spawn." 
you cough. "don't call them that." 
he raises a brow at you. probably at how soft your voice is, or the fact that you haven't hit him in the thirty seconds he's been standing there. 
it's a new record. 
"why are you here?" you rasp out, wiping some snot from your nose.
"no 'hello?'" 
"hello, satoru," your voice is retched, "why are you here?" 
"you look kinda rough, kid," 
you sniff, leaning against the doorjam. you could fall asleep here in an instant. "i'm sick, you jerk." 
"so this is sickness..." satoru says, intrigued, pretending to inspect you closely like you're some lab experiment. 
"i distinctly remember a cold that had you shaking on the floor of your dorm, begging shoko to heal you." 
satoru points a finger at you. "that was an uncurable illness." 
"and yet we're still stuck with you." 
satoru just smirks, pretending to be an angel he is not. 
you cough again and then sigh. it's cold with the door open. "are you just here to annoy me?"
"no," satoru shakes his head, giving you a ridiculous look, "well, i was telling megumi that you couldn't take him to the bookstore, cause of your disease or whatever," he ignores your weak protest, "and then i suggested that maybe we could see how you were feeling, bring you a little gift basket--" 
"no, he didn't!" megumi calls. 
satoru frowns. "devil. spawn." 
you snort, somehow amused at all of them, finally moving aside so he can walk through the door. 
satoru passes, suddenly brighter, but not before leaving an obnoxious kiss on your cheek--a resounding smack following. to which, you promptly wipe off. 
he frowns, and you push him so you can close the door. and then you trail into the kitchen, sitting down immediately before you fall. 
it's so embarrassing that just standing for too long has made you this lightheaded. 
satoru sets a bag on your kitchen counter and begins to unpack it. 
you try to see over his hands. "what did you bring me?" 
"you guys are so unappreciative," satoru tells you, pouting, "you only want me for my goods." 
"and the view," you answer, easily. "what'd you get?" 
megumi and tsumiki comes over to you, both of them giving you a short (megumi) and tight (tsumiki) hug. you've trained them well. 
"soup!" tsumiki tells you, grabbing the container from satoru's hands, despite his look. and then she walks over to your stove, looking in the cupboards for a pot to heat it in. 
because she's used to taking care of herself. they both are. 
"satoru," you nod to her, and he frowns, but reluctantly takes over, pushing tsumiki away from the stove. you're both familiar with this behavior from her. 
most days when you make dinner, tsumiki is trying to sneak into the kitchen, refusing to let you take care of it. 
she pouts a little now, but lets satoru handle the soup.
"gojo got you all of these," megumi tells you, bringing your eyes away from the other man, pushing a stack of pill bottles and medicine containers your way. "i don't think he knows what any of them are." 
"hey! that's a great selection," satoru pours the soup into a pot and sets it on the stove, returning to the counter with the three of you.
"this is a muscle relaxant," you tell him, frowning as you look at the packages--most of which are not for the flu. this is why he's not allowed to go to the store without you.
"well, your muscles need to relax, don't they?" satoru asks, dryly. "wish we could find some of those for your brain..." he mutters, afterward, and you throw the packet right at his face. 
"i found those little sour things you like," megumi continues, smirking just a moment at satoru. "they didn't have a big bag." 
"thanks, megs." 
"there's tissues, and chapstick if your lips get dry. and i picked out the cough drops because gojo wanted to get chocolate flavored or something--" 
"strawberry!" 
megumi rolls his eyes. 
tsumiki steps to your side again. "and we got flowers, but those are still in the car." 
"no, they're not," satoru suddenly has a bouquet of roses in his hands, almost covering his entire face. "they're right here." 
"when did you do that?" 
"when you guys were ridiculing my excellent taste," he pouts, white hair falling over his glasses. 
you laugh. 
"where's your vase?" he asks, going through every cupboard before finally listening to your answer. he settles on the other end of your kitchen, cutting and arranging the bouquet. 
tsumiki taps you. "are you feeling bad?" 
"just a little out of it, sweetie, don't worry." 
"did we get everything you need?" megumi chimes in, giving you a brief moment of eye contact before looking away. 
"yes. you guys did great, thank you both. you're very sweet." 
satoru ahems loudly. "and what about me?" 
"you could've done better." 
the kids both laugh and you push them into the living room, telling them to go sit down for a bit--knowing that satoru dragged them from school to the store to here without a break--and that you'll find a snack for them. 
and then you sigh, a bit nauseous from sitting up for so long. 
"do you need to lay down?" satoru peers at you, setting the bouquet on your table. "you look green." 
"thanks. how'd you learn to do that?" you gesture to the flowers which are arranged beautifully. honestly, you're surprised he didn't leave them on the counter for you to deal with. 
"i am a gentleman." 
"ha. no, seriously." 
"...i may, or may not have looked up what to bring someone who has the flu--and the flowers were extra, but!" he pauses as you laugh at him, resting your head against the cool counter. "i only had to do that because i don't get affected by stupid things like the flu or whatever you have." 
"of course," you whisper, closing your eyes. 
and then there's a hand on your forehead. "you're really warm." 
you press your head into his hand, which is also pleasantly cold. "yeah." 
"did you sleep all day?" 
you nod. 
"really? that's so lazy." 
you push him away, and he laughs, just loud enough for you to hear it. you open your eyes again when you hear him move away, watching him stir the soup on the stove. 
"you probably shouldn't have brought them here," you tell him, gesturing to the living room. "i don't want to get them sick." 
"they missed you," satoru shrugs. "you wouldn't want them to be sick alone." 
"yeah, but..." 
"i'm the worrier today," he interrupts, wrapping his hand around your wrist so he can pull you. "go lay down on the couch with them and i'll get your soup ready." 
"you'll burn it, you mean?" 
"as a punishment for all of the cruel things you say to me," and satoru smiles as he nudges the top of your head with his nose. 
his eyes are almost stern (almost, but not quite) as he watches you lay down on the couch, your hands gestured in defeat, and nods when you're settled in. 
when he walks away, you call, "bring us some water!" 
there's no response, but you know he'll do it. 
tsumiki just slightly nudges you with her hand and you smile, opening your arms for her to cuddle under. 
megumi doesn't do the same, but you don't fail to notice when he scooches just a little bit closer to you both, his thigh touching yours. 
your head still hurts and even the smell of the soup is making you a bit sick, but you'll deal with it as long as they're all here. 
*
you're arguing with satoru about dinner, several days later, when tsumiki and megumi sneeze at exactly the same time. 
it took a couple of days for you to recover, but now you're better than ever, happily fighting with satoru over the stupidest things and watching over both of the children for any defects that happened while you were out of sorts. 
they're mostly okay. 
but now the both of you look over to them, your eyes wide, satoru almost wincing. 
and then you look back to him, already scowling. 
"hey, it was just a sneeze," he tells you, quickly, already knowing what you're about to say. 
"i told you--" 
and then he sneezes, taking a step away from you. 
you groan, giving up on dinner. it looks like the next few days are going to be spent coddling all of your children. 
*
next part
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wednesdaysky · 7 months
Text
I like how Gortash is kind of a hidden foil to the theme of "breaking free from those who abuse you" and "perpetuating the cycle of abuse" that runs throughout all of BG3.
He was hurt very badly. What did he learn from it? That you're ultimately alone, nobody is going to come save you, the only person on your side is yourself. He didn't have a Tav/anyone else to come help him, or if he did, he refused to let their words get through to him. He dragged himself out of literal hell -- from there decided he was going to make the entire world pay for what was done to him. From there never grew up from the kind of simple fantasy a child would come up with, I'll be better than you, nyah nyah. From there did an Ascended Astarion and did live his own worst life.
His parents had power over him but decided they'd rather have money than another mouth to feed? Fuck them, Enver could earn more money than they ever had. Raphael had power over him and lived a life of luxury while treating his slaves to all the horrors of life amongst devils? Fuck him, Enver could accumulate more luxury than even a devil would ever have, even steal his coveted toy. He was smart, he could outwit them, he could be worse than them if needed and leave them all crying in the dust at his success.
And then he did whatever was necessary, the way his own family had done what was necessary, no matter how dirty. Went on to beg, borrow, and steal his way to the good life with no sleazy stone unturned. Seducing people to steal from them? Who cares, if they don't notice he's doing it then they're idiots and deserve to be taken for a ride. Weapons dealing? Barely a crime at all, if he wasn't doing it someone else would. Selling slaves? Who cares, it was done to him and he got out, anybody who can't is just a weakling. Selling Karlach in specific? Betraying those who trust you to make a quick buck is just good business, he had it done to him and he's fine. Playing with people's souls and lives in the most horrific fashion possible? Whatever, it's not his soul and they're not worth that much anyway, devils literally spend them as currency.
Hitch your wagon to somebody more powerful than you, use their influence to gain more power over others, then step on them to climb your way up the ladder -- that's the way you get what you want out of life. It's no surprise that he threw in his lot with Bane. Sure, he's technically got a new master holding authority over his head (though with as arrogant and self-aggrandizing as he is, I can picture him even thinking "I already outfoxed two powerful devils, I'm about to rule the world, so...what's a single god really?"), but all these stupid mortals underneath him? Now they have to do whatever he wants. It's childish petty revenge taken to the utmost logical extreme possible. Everybody he ever hated, everybody who ever wronged him, everybody who might want to wrong him, they have no choice but to bow and scrape forever and it's the best kind of vengeance against the world to be able to hold that over them. Just consider what he does to his parents. He could've just killed them. Instead his wrath comes in the form of making them watch his success while trapping them in an unending hell they can never escape for as long as they live. The same fate they would have abandoned him to if things had gone differently.
So much of this is told through text notes and little side details that it's easy to miss, but I love that one of our main villains is somebody who suffered in a very similar way to some of the main cast members and his response to that wasn't trying to become better than what was done to him, it was to aim himself straight toward way, way worse.
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seresinhangmanjake · 23 days
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader
Summary: You and Simon had been keeping your relationship a secret from your brother. You were happy, in love, but that all ended the moment Johnny found Simon in your bed.
Notes/warnings: Part 1 of 2. Mention of sexual acts. Angst. Fluff and smut in next part. Typos, I'm sure.
Words: 709
Part 2
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You were Johnny’s sister. That alone should have been enough to ensure Simon kept his distance. And that was the plan, as staying away from you would've been the right thing to do; the respectful choice to make concerning the sister of his friend. But once he saw you, all of those thoughts vanished. 
You’d greeted him and Johnny at the door of the Mactavish home with a huge smile spread across your face, illuminating the shade of your eyes, and that was it. Simon was a goner. And to think just seconds prior, he hadn't wanted to come to the annual Mactavish family gathering. 
When offered Johnny’s invitation, Simon had turned him down. He didn’t do parties. He didn’t do loud chattering or large groups—around fifty bodies, Johnny had told him—and he didn’t appreciate hoards of questions hurtling his way. It took a half-hour of borderline begging from Johnny before Simon agreed, simply to get his friend to shut up. 
The drive over was agonizing with Johnny practically bouncing from the excitement of seeing his family all in one place for the first time in years, as Simon sat in the passenger seat with his arms crossed over his chest, anticipating the worst. But then there you were. So beautiful that he forgot his hatred for organized events with people he didn’t know. So gorgeous, and he quickly discovered not lacking in wit and intelligence. While Johnny mingled, you had Simon’s attention in a chokehold—an arousing pressure tight round his neck he never wanted relief from.
He had met pretty women before; funny and smart women, but not like you. Nothing like you. However, it would've been better had you revealed yourself to be dull. If you were dull he could've walked away. He could've avoided the guilt that sunk in when he noticed how Johnny didn't bother to pay attention to the dwindling space between your body and Simon's as the night progressed. Johnny didn't bother because he trusted his friend to do the right thing, as he would trust any teammate that he shared a brotherly bond with.
But Simon was not Johnny's brother. He was not your brother. He was your admirer, your pursuer, and eventually, your lover, just as you became his. A lover that ignited a fire in his belly he’d only ever heard about from Price and Gaz when speaking about their women. He never wanted to let you go. But that bliss ended the moment Johnny found him bare in your bed while you were rinsing off his cum in the shower. 
As he shot up in bed, Simon had two thoughts: how did he not sense someone coming into your apartment, and how did he not hear the knock at your bedroom door that, after going unanswered, prompted Johnny to enter out of concern. But there was a simple explanation. Simon was too sated, too drugged out on you, too exhausted and half asleep after a long morning of sex to register any sound other than your soft humming from the en suite.
Johnny’s face had descended into pure anger—nothing like Simon had ever seen—and he knew there were no excuses to give. Not for the scene, the circumstances, or the lies told in the hope Johnny would never know about the time you spent together behind his back. There were no words as the best thing in Simon's life shattered to bits.
He’d lost his best mate that day, and because of the fit Johnny threw at learning Simon had been sleeping with you for months, he’d lost you as well. He had tried his damnedest to keep you—Love, you’re a grown woman; you can make your own choices; he’ll come around—but all you did was shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping onto the floor as you reminded him that hurting Johnny was one of the deal-breakers. 
He’d left your apartment with his fingers fisted in his hair, knowing that was the last time he was going to see you. And that had proved true over the following three months. He’d not heard from you. No calls, no texts, no bloody emails. You were done, gone, and Simon was stumbling through a world without you.
A/N: Fluff and smut next part. Thanks for reading 🥰
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storiesbysoup · 1 year
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Hey! Can I request ghost nsfw headcanons? Where he has a size kink and where he has a crush on you. Please?
Simon "Ghost" Riley with a Size Kink.
warning! this post contains mentions of NSFW — if you are under 18 years old, do not interact with it! notes: hello! yes of course, haha! thank you for the request, it's very much appreciated. <3 I'm not very good at headcannons, so please excuse me if this is bad! MASTERLIST.
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Simon wasn't sure if would ever understand what love was.
He'd grown up with a void where the feeling of love should have been.
When he enlisted, he questioned if he would ever be happy with the choices he was going to make.
That was until he saw you.
You were a new recruit -- Private Lizard was what you were known about as.
The other members of 141 often called you by your real name from time-to-time, but Ghost never did.
"Keepin' it professional" was often what he would claim for his excuse, but you suspected it was because only Soap got a special nickname from the Ghost.
Simon remembers when he met you -- bright-eyed rookie that was excited to help out with something that they believed to be true and good.
Price recruited you to 141 and Ghost had no complaints. You were a pyrotechnics and sabotage -- two things that 141 was looking for.
Ghost trusted Price, so in return he trusted your ability to hold your weight while working with the team.
He had tried to keep himself distanced from you, but eventually failed as you grew closer with everyone.
Inevitably, he gained a small crush on you.
How could he not?
You were snarky -- not too much to be a smartass, but enough to get a laugh out of the hulking man. You were smart, you did your job well.
Often times on base, Ghost would hide himself in a secluded area and remove his mask. He'd breathe, taking a quick drag from a cigarette.
He wished he would simply quit, but knew it would take more than that.
Ghost would lean his head back against the cold, stone wall and let himself relax for the first time in weeks. In doing so, he failed to catch the sound of your soft footsteps slowly coming closer.
You simply sat yourself beside him and leaned your head against his shoulder, saying nothing. He jumped at the contact, hand immediately reaching for one of the few weapons he'd kept on himself.
When he recognized you, he immediately relaxed for hte majority. His mask was off -- he hadn't shown his face to anyone but Price. You had seen him.
Your eyes were closed as you rested against him, softly whispering.
"I didn't see your face, Ghost. Don't worry."
His heart leapt into his throat.
One of Ghosts hands came to encapsulate yours, his mind slowly churning as he noticed just how much smaller you were than him.
Ghost slumped himself down to let you lean against him better, gently placing his head on yours.
"You can if you want to."
That was the first time he said your real name and you think that's the moment you fell in love with Simon Riley.
He told you that you could call him Simon when they were off-duty. In this moment, he wasn't Ghost -- he was Simon.
You smiled, eyes fluttering open to admire his hand in yours.
The size difference was insane.
Simon was a big guy, that much was obvious: he stood at 6'4" and was a hulking mass. His hands reflected that as well.
As the two of you sat there, the size difference between you seemed to creep into Simons head more and more.
His crush on you grew from a simple, passing infatuation to a full-on immersion of love in the span of just four hours.
Simon's mind started to turn to the less flattering side of himself: he started to imagine what fucking you would be like.
How small would you appear to him if the two of you did have sex? Would his cock made you seem even littler?
He wasn't small in any places, after all.
The feeling of his cock growing harder as you said there, engulfed in each others embrace caused heat to rise to his face. He shouldn't be getting hard right now.
Plus, if the two of you were to have sex, it would be breaking so many rules. Lieutenant's weren't supposed to fuck their Privates.
But god did he want to.
He imagined what the taste of you would be like. Would you be sweet? You probably would -- you were a kind person at heart.
One day, Simon knew that he'd bring this up to you. He'd confess everything: the infatuation -- the love -- he bore for you, the perverse feelings that boiled inside of him.
One day, Simon Riley would admit he's in love with you.
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written by storiesbysoup© 2023. I do not condone anyone translating my works and/or stealing them.
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houseofanticipation · 2 months
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It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.
In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.
The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.
Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.
You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.
And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.
The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."
It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.
So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"
You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.
"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"
"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"
"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."
Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.
The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"
Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.
He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."
You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.
You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.
This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.
"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."
You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."
"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"
You shake your head.
"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."
It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...
You don't think you can do this.
Then his hand is on the back of your head.
You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.
A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."
There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."
"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."
His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.
You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.
He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.
You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?
But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.
The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.
"That's better," he says.
The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.
You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.
He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.
This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.
You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.
You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.
You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.
Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.
All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...
"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.
He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.
It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.
You don't respond.
You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.
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gguksgalaxy · 11 months
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The Smart Thing | JWW
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You come home ready to sleep your stress off in the arms of your boyfriend, he seems to have other plans in mind. Ones that don't quite include rest.
›› Genre: Smut (legit just filth) ›› Rating: 18+ (explicit s-x) ›› Pairing: Wonwoo x f.Reader ›› Wordcount: 2.4k ›› Warnings: Fingering (f.rec), unprotected s-x (in a relationship, be safe) while half asleep, manhandling and holding her in place, Wonwoo's a bit of a tease, bit of crying, one (1) spank, petnames, praise, begging, cr-ampie, probably missed something. Ik it sounds similar to Mingyu's but trust it isn't fjdlsk ›› Mingyu ver. ›› This one was a bit of a struggle but I hope you guys like this as well. If you do, let me know!! <3 And again thanks to the lovely @homerunhansol for proofing this and giving me confidence
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No matter how deep his slumber, Wonwoo always wakes at the feeling of your body hitting the bed. His hands cradle you better than the sheets, body providing warmth that soothes the exhaustion in your bones. Perhaps you don’t need sleep, just the feeling of him slotting his body against your back. The rumble in his chest when he hums against your neck, kisses down your shoulder. His presence provides the last thing you need to relax, to become pliant to his touch. Your eyes fall shut, sleep creeping up the edges of your consciousness. The same way his fingers inch under the fabric of your shirt. 
“You’re late,” Wonwoo breathes, voice roughened with sleep.
You let out a breathy chuckle. “T’was busy.” You’re barely audible, halfway to dreamland when you notice where his hands are going. Nimble fingers dancing along the crease of your breast, tongue darting out to taste your skin over your pulsepoint. “Wonwoo,” you warn.
He shushes you, lets his teeth sink into your earlobe. It has you swimming, the warm touch of his palm over your tits, nails teasing along your nipples. Quick sparks of pleasure keep you on the edge of sleep. The sleep that you very much needed and were craving for the past hours. And now that you’re here, comfortable between the sheets and your lover, you’re tempted to stay awake a bit longer. Just to see how far he’s willing to take this to jeopardise his own rest. 
You let out a soft moan when he tweaks your nipple, eyes fluttering shut, head sinking further into the pillow. He’s gentle with it—gentle with you. Any protest to go to sleep dies on your tongue. The way he’s playing you isn’t about him. He’s all over you. Kneads at your chest like he could mould you to his hands. You already are though. 
Moulded to the shape of him that is. The way you crane your head back to give him more space to kiss you. The perfect fit of your tits in his hands. The press of his leg between yours. He takes you apart so easily, wetness gathering against the cotton of your underwear. But none of it is enough to jolt you, barely enough to keep you awake. Awake enough to tell that he’s growing hard behind you, but not awake enough to do much about it. You’re in the most beautifully warm place. Swimming in arousal and cushioned by the precipice of sweet sleep.
“You’re so sexy like this,” he mumbles into your skin, hand sneaking down to feel how wet you are. It has him groaning, hot breath puffing against your skin. “So pliant for me.”
His words have your stomach clenching, a gush of wetness between your thighs. “Wonwoo,” you mumble, reaching a hand behind you to find the short hair at the nape of his neck. He turns into it, running his nose up your arm. “The smart thing to do would be to go to sleep.”
“I believe,” he starts, thumb pressing down over your clit over the fabric of your underwear, “the smart thing to do would be me.”
The words of rebuttal to his awful joke die on the back of your tongue when he grabs you tighter. He slides an arm under your neck, twisting it over your chest to pull you to him. You know this position, twist into him just as he wants with a leg spread over his hips. Give him full access to your body without as much of a word. You know what he wants, and you wouldn’t deny him. Because you’re well aware that it’ll be worth the time and lack of sleep.
Wonwoo wastes no time to slide his hand into your panties, fingers slipping between your wet folds and moaning at the feeling. Your entire body shivers, goosebumps from your neck to your fingers at his sounds. Your stomach clenches when his fingers circle your clit, then dip lower to slide into you. He knows you needed it, knew it better than you did, because you relax so easily at the feeling.  Your eyes once again fall shut, head tilting back over his shoulder. His mouth skims over your jaw, fingers still. 
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he whispers, breathy, on the cusp between a chuckle and a moan.
You smile. “‘Could.”
He hums, nuzzling into your cheek before pulling his fingers out. Then he slides them back in slowly, makes you feel every single knuckle that enters you. He repeats this over and over and over. Provides no additional stimulation but the achingly slow drag of his fingers inside your cunt and it’s so good it almost does lull you to sleep. Your breathing evening out, chest heavy under his palm, legs lax. Just him around you, warm breaths and gentle fingers. 
A sharp slap to your thigh wakes you up instantly. It stings, blooms warm over your skin when he palms over it. No words follow, but the message is clear. Don’t fall asleep. 
You tilt your hips with a whine, empty, aching. He smiles into your skin, knows that you need him now that he’s given you a taste. Crave him more than the heavy pull of sleep. Soon, he fills you again, fingers more firm in their presses now. Less teasing, more pleasure, sending warmth coiling up your spine. Sweet little moans fall from your lips. He eats it up, lips on the corner of your mouth. All while he strokes your insides just right, palm brushing your clit with every pass. 
Your lover moans when you twist, pressing your ass into his now very hard crotch. “Baby,” you whine, tilting your head towards him even more. He doesn’t respond, merely nudges your head back with his, hand tightening on your tit where he holds it. “Baby, please.” You know Wonwoo won’t give you anything if he doesn’t deem you ready, but perhaps sleep clouds him enough to give in to you. “Need you.” 
His fingers sound slick inside of you, your wetness gushing out when he presses in deep, palm flat to your body. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him in your stomach and it’s not even his cock inside of you yet. He presses right where you need him, right where he knows you’ll fall apart for him. Rubbing hard, having you moan loud, clenching hard as if to suck his fingers in even deeper. His name falls from your lips, barely audible, barely coherent. Dumb from the battle between pleasure and exhaustion. 
“You want to cum?” Wonwoo asks, whispers it into your ear with a graze of his tongue to your skin. You’re not close yet, but he can have you fall over that edge in a matter of seconds if he so pleases. 
You nod and grab his wrist, pressing your cunt close to him. “Woo.” The words escape you. A hiccup breaking from your throat because you’re too far gone to tell him you need to cum on his cock. He twists his fingers in a way that is just a little mean. Your toes curl when he does it again, and again, “Wonwoo!” you cry out, grabbing his wrist harder yet rutting closer. Your whole body is thrumming. 
“What is it?” He says it so sweetly, follows you as you curl onto your side, spoons you. Your legs close on his hand, trap him in your heat. “You know what,” Wonwoo trails his words off, wrestling his hand out from between your thighs. “I’ll be nice.”
You huff, but comply and wait. He grabs his pillow and rolls you onto it, hips propped up just enough for him to position himself between your legs from behind. There’s a rustle of fabric, the tantalising feeling of his palm smoothing down your back, and then the familiar feeling of him dragging the head of his cock through your soaked folds. 
It has your entire body on edge, trying to lift your hips to his, anything to feel him. He shushes you again, presses your back down to the sheets. Mumbles something about how he’s got you, will take care of you, loves you, as he teases you. 
When he finally presses in, you whine. Your walls stretch to accommodate him, and he blankets his body with yours as he sinks deeper. Bottoms out, hips to your ass, hands beside your head searching for yours. Like he needs you for purchase too, fingers finding a home between yours while you grab at the sheets. Shaking under him. 
He groans your name into your ear when you clench down hard at the first thrust. The press of him inside of you is so delicious, so familiar—but this angle has always been so much more intense. You barely feel conscious at this point, swimming. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be doing any better, a deep curse falling from his lips when he pulls out and pushes back in all the way. Hips pressing so close to you to try and get that last inch in.  To get so deep you’ll feel him for days. Again, like he’s moulding you to the shape of him. 
You’d stay like this forever if you could. Hidden between your lover and the sheets. Slick sounds of your cunt sucking him in, him panting into your shoulder. He holds himself to you, the weight of him on top of you just right. As is everything. As he always is with you. And if he holds himself still for too long you will fall asleep to this. The warm pleasure of him filling you, the feeling of his heart beating against your back. You find yourself drifting, breaths evening out. 
“Stay with me, love.” Wonwoo doesn’t drag himself out of you, too lost in the feeling of being surrounded by your heat. Instead, he ruts himself against your body, providing friction that makes you whine sleepily. “I’m here,” he breathes, voice shaky with it all. Shaky like your body under his trying to process the pleasure coursing through you. 
Trying to find a way to get more—more of him. But he’s got you pinned. Body snug under his, hands intertwined, legs feeling like jello. He controls the pace, the depth, and thus how long this will go on for. How far he’s going to take this spiel, whether he’ll fuck you so slowly you can’t help but fall asleep, or he flips it and fucks you so hard you pass out. Both thoughts have your stomach coiling with arousal. 
One particularly hard thrust has your body jolting up the bed. His cock hitting you just right, just once. One warning until he’s back to slow grinding and heavy breathing. He kisses up and down your neck and shoulder while he enjoys your body laid out for him.
You need more.
“Woo,” you whine, high, high pitched and small. The pleasure bubbles up, his cock dragging along your walls, every inch of him torturously good. You’re dripping onto the pillow below you. But there is no way you’ll cum from just this. It’s divine, toe-curling, perfect, but you need more. Something other than this gentle assault on your senses. 
He hears you, always does. Slides a hand under you to where your body meets the pillow and parts your slick folds. Two fingers find your clit and rest there. Then, he lifts himself just a bit, enough to gain purchase and start really fucking you. Dragging his cock out and pressing back in. One smooth motion, a delicious back and forth that has you purring almost. Enough to push you back and forth over his fingers. Exactly what you’d needed. 
You’re on edge in seconds. The feeling of him inside of you, hitting that one spot he knows so well, and his rough-padded fingers over your clit send you hurtling towards your orgasm faster than you’d expected. Suddenly, you’re wide awake. Eyes pressed shut, hand tightening to his, moaning his name loudly, just once. 
“Almost there, love,” he answers. You have to bite into the pillow to hold back. Knowing the overstimulation would be too much. Knowing he wants to finish together. He’s close too, from the feeling of it. Thrusts a little shaky, breath a little ragged. The sound rumbles in his chest, followed by a whine. A sound you’ve only heard when he’s got it bad—bad for you. When he’s so lost in you that all control flies out the window. 
You want to see him like that. Want to watch his brows furrow, lip pulled between his teeth. Sweat lining his temples, flush on his cheeks. He always looks so heavenly when he’s taking you fully. No bells or whistles, just bare in the sheets in your home. Like right now—spare for your shirts. He groans your name again, and again, and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. His thrusts growing even harder. 
Hard enough to push you up the bed. To have you hiccuping and holding a hand against the headboard to stop yourself from moving too much. But fuck does it feel good. Pleasure courses through you, you hold your breath to not lose it right then and there. He can’t keep asking you to wait. Not when you’re this close. Not when you feel this good. 
Suddenly, his fingers slip—accidentally or on purpose—squeezing your clit between two digits. It sends you hurtling over the edge so hard. Tears well up in your eyes while you shake under him. Run down your cheeks when he slams into you and stills, his own body spasming with his own orgasm. You whine, followed by a sob ripping from your throat. He cums deep inside of you, but with how your ears are ringing and your limbs are shaking, you can barely tell. 
Can’t react when he slips out of you and fusses over your trembling form. Brushes your hair from your face, kisses your cheek where the tears left a trail. Tells you how good you did for him. It’s all a blur. One big fuzzy image of him everywhere and anywhere around you. That was probably one of the best orgasms he’s ever given you. 
He soothes a hand over your back. “Go to sleep, love. I’ll clean you off,” are the last words you hear before sleep pulls you in. 
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taggins: @gyuswhore @chansgyu @hyunsunni
Thanks for reading and feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments, tags, or my inbox!! <3
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niefics · 3 months
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The big deal — P.JS X FEM!READER
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Sypnosis : Reader really doesn’t like her boss, and her boss thinks it’s cute when she’s upset.
Warnings : smut, cursing, arguing, y/n is stressed, jay is 27 and reader 24.
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“What no .. that’s .. that’s not fair!” You spoke, finally half way snapping talking back at your boss. “What’s not fair? Please explain it to me.” Your boss, Mr. Park spoke, his head tilting to the right a little lifting his eyebrows slightly, as his arms were crossed.
“Why are you making me do this project by myself ? You know when it comes to projects like these, you need more then one person on the presentation!” You spoke, frustrated already. The work day just starting. “I gave you this project for a reason, I took you liking to work by yourself into consideration.”
“Yeah when it comes to working on small things, how do you think i’m gonna bag a deal with a presentation that needs tone of research? I can’t calculate all of this by myself.” You spoke. “Listen, just start on the project, and come talk to me in my office during your lunch and we can sort everything out okay ?.” He spoke, looking at your whipping our his watch and looking at the time. “I have a meeting a need to head to, so I don’t have much time for arguing.” He spoke walking away. He sighed harshly, walking back to your seat frustrated from the work day. At this moment you just wanted a glass of wine or a hot bath when you got home.
You moved companies, and ever since you’ve been so stressed, having to move cities and now all your boss seems to do is stress you out. You started to plan out how you were gonna start working on the presentation. You were thinking about starting with the hardest parts which was the calculations and the research so everything would just have to be typed up. As you looked at the time, it was your lunch. You really didn’t want to spend your 15 minute break arguing with your boss, but you got up and headed to his office.
You knocked on his office door, flipping your hair behind your shoulder. Mentally preparing yourself for any bullshit he said. The door opens, jay out of his suit coat, his black button up not being buttoned up all the way, he smiled letting you in. “I’m glad you decided to come to my office so we could talk more.” He spoke moving to the side as you walked in. “I just wanted to ask a few questions.” You spoke calmly walking in.
“Have you started on the presentation?” He asked sitting at his desk. “Mm, not really besides the calculating and doing research.” You spoke, walking over to his desk sitting at an empty chair, your legs crossed. “I just.. want to know why you have just me on this ?” I spoke looking at him, your hands interlocked in your lap. “Well, I think with your smarts, and your good looks that the deal will go well. Could be your biggest deal of your career.” He spoke, you lifted your eyebrows leaning closer to him. “Hu- huh? My biggest ..? And you trust me, a new comer to the company to do this by myself ?” You spoke, astonished by his trust in you. He smiled attractively, leaning back in his seat.
“You seem like a good arguer, that’s what I need y/n! The way you argued for things to be better in the office for you and for others a while back gave me the reason to have this idea. Your looks just add on, your big doe eyes will definitely have them wanting the deal.” He laughed a little sipping his coffee. “If you win us this deal, I give you a raise and a better spot in the company okay ?” He spoke, putting his coffee down looking away from me at his desk infront of him. “Huh .. ? A- a raise ?” You bit your lip thinking about it. “How much are we speaking?” You spoke lifting an eyebrow. “Double your pay- triple if you do extra well!” That would be the most you’ve ever been paid, double pay could be to that bag you’ve been looking at, or even can be put towards a vacation with your friends. Either way you were all in.
“I’ll have the presentation prepared, memorized, and ready. I better get that pay.” You spoke getting up and walking out of his office, maybe if things go good you get that raise. But for now you’re staying late at work to make sure this is perfect.
It’s the 4th night you’ve stayed passed your hours just to make sure this presentation was perfect. You finally started typing everything down. A concentrated look sat on your face. You hear footsteps coming near you, you ignore them and only looked when you heard a similar voice. It was Mr. Park. “Youre still here ? Your staying later then me, you should head home. Work on it tomorrow.” Jay spoke, he had everything ready for him to go for the night. His glasses sat on his face nicely, his coat was on as he had his bag full of important work in there as well. “No.. I have to finish this have and I’ll go, I’ll be fine.” You spoke in not interested tired sounding tone. “No, come on, you need a break for tonight go home take a nice shower sleep well.” He spoke helping you pack up, you sighed getting up and closing your computer.
You two walked into the car garage, to see little cars there but yours. Jays expensive car very noticeable in view compared to your car you’ve had since you started collage, and it starting to mess up a little. “Listen go home, sleep, and don’t disappoint me on that meeting in two weeks!” He spoke walking away to his car. You nodded. Walking into your car
It finally came to the day of the presentation, you stress levels some how rising higher then ever. You weren’t really able to sit down all morning, you did a few touch ups on the presentations and memories everything, you wore your best work causal outfit, framing your body well. Jay came out of his office noticing, walking over. “Hey, everything okay ?” You nodded, “I have a lot on my shoulders thinking about what could go wrong with the presentation.” He shook his head. “Nothing is gonna go wrong don’t overthink.” Somehow, when you’re stressed you look 1000 times cuter especially to jay, if it wasn’t for the busy day he would’ve took you back to his office to help you relieve stress. He’s seen you stress a lot this past month, he had faith that you would get that deal.
“I don’t know if it’s because this presentation was amazing or you’re just really well with your words.. but you got a deal.” You smiled, relieved, jay watched from the side grateful that you actually came through. Leaving the conference room, your walk confident and sexy. The whole office celebrated, you getting the deal, as you were speaking a hand rested in your shoulder as someone spoke in your ear. “Meet me in my office.” It was jay, and just as soon as you turned around he was already walking away.
He texted you to come after you shift, so when you headed to your office everyone was leaving to head home already. You knocked on his office door, he opened the door, his shirt unbuttoned enough for you to go insane. Jay looked out behind you scoping the scenery out before planting a soft but passionate kiss on your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist perfectly, pulling you into his office and closing the door. You hands were wrapped around his neck. The kiss lingered for a little to long in your opinion, it lingered so long you were sitting in his desk as you started unbuttoning your shirt. “Mr park..” you whined as you felt him move his lips down to your lips, your hand on his wrist to get him to stop unbuttoning your to listen to your. “You did a good job y/n, this was a big deal for you and the company.” He spoke moving his hand to chin tilting it to look at him. “Do you know what people get for being good ?” “A promotion ?” You spoke, your lips swollen and your lipstick smeared. “Mm, better in my opinion.” He spoke, he had a look of lust on his face.
You realized what he was talking about, shaking your head excessively. “No not here, you have paper work on your desk.” You spoke looking back, to see your hands resting on a few papers. “Okay? Then ride my lap. We’ll just have to be careful and you’ll have to be quiet for me.” “What? No! Not-“
You skirt was now up covering your stomach as your panties were pulled to the side as your rode jay. Moaning into the kisses uncontrollably. You had to admit you’ve never ridden before let alone at work so he had to guide you, hands griping at your sides, moving your up and down and you swayed your hips back words.
“Let me buy you dinner after this.” He groaned out looking into your fucked out eyes. You were struggling to be quiet, using kissing and kissing his neck to try and keep you occupied from doing so but him wanting to start a conversation while you’re on the verge of covering his dick with cum more then it already was, was baffling to you. “I.. I don’t- fuck! I don’t know ..” You struggle to say without letting the loudest moan or whine out.
Your bouncing paste quickened as jay met your hips with his thrusting just as fast hitting your g spot. Wet noises louder then you were, at least what you felt like. “L..ook at me.” He groaned, getting closer to hitting his climax, you looked down at jay. His fucked out face, made you clench harder then you already were, you legs soar from all the bouncing you were doing .. you wanted to stop but it felt too good too.
The knot in your stomach snapped, the amount curse words you let out into his ear, made him just want to kiss your cheek. You paused for a moment giving yourself a smile break before continuing to bounce, feeling jay get close to his climax. “Ca.. an- I?” He fought out. “Yes please, please fill me.” In that moment he came, a warm sensation in filled your cunt. You two kissing sloppily as he came.
“Cmon y/n, let me get you dinner or at least let me cooking something for you.” He spoke, cleaning you off with napkins, he would’ve done more if there was more for him to use. “I don’t know Mr-“ he smiled. “Just.. just call me jay when we’re like this.” You laughed softly. “Well.. jay, I don’t know, we’ve done a lot.”
“Trust me, I want to do more.”
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