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#I don’t think it will ever stop being a crazy feeling
idleoblivion · 3 days
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"You Don't Want to See Me Like This" - Vil Schoenheit x GN Reader
Synopsis: You were spiraling and you knew it, skipping classes, not taking care of yourself and ignoring your friends in favor of rotting in bed. You didn’t want anybody to see you in this state, least of all your perfect boyfriend.
Word Count: ~1k
A/N: Crazy how fast I go from writing smut to comfort fics lol. First time writing Vil sorry if he's ooc.
Warnings: Vague description of poor mental health, he comforts you
The first knocks on your door you ignore entirely, not moving an inch from your position curled up under your blankets. The second time, you do move, but only to check your phone for any messages from Ace or Deuce saying they were coming. They had been the most adamant about trying to reach you, with Ace sending you sarcastic messages and memes to get your attention while Deuce opted for more genuine “Hey, it’s been a minute, you alright?” and “I hope you feel better soon!” texts. You loved them, truly you did, but you were in no mood to talk to them. You couldn’t remember how many days it’s been since you’ve seen them in person.
The third knocks are louder and impatient. You sigh and close your eyes again. As you're preparing to reach for the earbuds on your nightstand to tune them out, the voice you hear from the other side of the door stops you in your tracks.
“I know you can hear me, potato. And you know I don’t appreciate being ignored.”
Your eyes shoot open again. You weren’t expecting him at all.
It’s not like you thought Vil wouldn’t notice. He was always very attuned to what you were feeling, it was something you loved about him. Somehow you had gotten lucky, with his schedule apparently being even busier than usual you had managed to evade him. But he was here now, and clearly not happy. You know he cares dearly for you, but still you didn’t know how to talk to him about everything going on in your head right now. Not when he seemed to handle every problem he had with ease, while you were just wallowing in your misery. Not when he was this emblem of beauty and grace, not when he wouldn’t be caught dead looking like you did right now.
You sit up and turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror. You haven’t showered or brushed your hair and it shows. The circles under your eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them. You had been completely neglecting the skin care routine Vil picked out especially for you for several days, and you were sure he would be able to tell.
“Vil…I’m alright, I just don’t feel well. I’m tired, and I’m trying to rest.”
“According to your friends, it’s been nearly two weeks that you haven’t been feeling well. Either you’re lying to me, or you need to go to the infirmary this instant.” You could picture the frown on his face and crease in his brow just from his tone.
You don’t answer him. You silently curse Ace and Deuce for getting him involved, wishing your bed would just swallow you whole so you could avoid this conversation. He stays quiet too for a moment. You hear him sigh before he continues.
“I…I’m not trying to patronize you. Please just let me in, I need to see you.” His voice turns almost pleading at the end, surprising you. He never pleaded or begged for anything.
“You don’t want to see me like this, Vil.” Your resolve was weakening hearing how worried he actually sounded, but you were still so ashamed of your current appearance. What would he think if he saw you? Would he feel pity, maybe even disgust? You didn’t want either of those reactions from him.
“You can’t say that. You can’t tell me how or when I want to see you.”
Another minute or two of silence passes, and you realize he really isn’t going anywhere. You drag yourself up out of bed and to your door and hesitantly unlock it. You walk back to your bed and plop down again before saying “Come in.”
He opens the door gently, eyes immediately fixated on you. He takes in your disheveled self and looks around your room for a moment too. You hadn’t even realized how messy it was until he was looking around, laundry and other junk left lying out in the open. Another wave of shame washed over you.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-” You start to choke up as you put your head in your hands, but he interrupts you.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” You look back up at him confused. He’s looking at you, but you don’t feel the judgment in his gaze you were anticipating. He’s looking at you gently, fondly even, and that alone nearly makes you cry.
“I’ve been preoccupied with the production the Film Studies club is working on, and I seem to have neglected something much more important." He approaches you and offers you his hand, which you take. He holds your hand tenderly and continues. “It’s my duty to notice things like this, and I’ve let this go on too long already. What can I do for you, love? What can I do to help?”
The tears that had been welling up finally start falling, and he brings his other hand to cradle your face lovingly. You stay like that together for a few moments, with you crying and him just holding you.
Through sniffles, you tell him “I don’t know. I want to feel better, but I don’t, I don’t know I just-” you cut yourself off with another sob. He nods his head like he understands. He seems to stop and process an idea before he stands up.
“Well, looking better may help you feel better. Come with me, back to Pomefiore. Bring some pajamas, we’ll run you a bath and have a self care night together. I’ve got some new products I’ve been wanting to test that we can try out.” He smiles at you and beckons for you to stand with him. You do, and nod at him as you try to calm yourself down more. “Y-yeah, that might be nice.” You hold your arms out, asking for a hug and he obliges immediately. 
He holds you tightly before speaking to you softly. “You don’t need to keep things from me, you know. I’d much rather hear about how you’re doing from you than those other potatoes.” You let out a small laugh, which makes him grin. “Can you promise you’ll come to me next time?”
“Okay, I promise. Especially if it gets you to spoil me like this.”
“It’s not spoiling, love. It’s just what you deserve.” He kisses your forehead before you walk out of your room together, still holding his hand.
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sessakag · 2 days
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Now all I can think about is Prey!Papa-Naruto because it would be the wildest funniest thing ever! Poor Hinata is probably trying to make sure her kids grow up to be good morally upstanding people and Naruto is just….Yeah 😬. Funnily enough this Naruto probably wouldn’t have as much of a contentious relationship with Boruto because there’s no way he’s putting work above spending time how he wants 😭. And as a Kawaki hater I’m pleased to say I don’t see this Naruto being altruistic enough to take in some random abused kid so really we’ve got my ideal version of the Uzumaki family 🫢. Anyway, I bet parent-teacher conferences and kiddy playdates and birthday parties are gonna be fun times 🤣. Speaking of bday parties happy early birthday! I hope it’ll be a fun one.
Daddy Prey!Naruto is the funniest thing ever, lol.
For sure, Naruto would spend time with his little mini-me. Who would stop him?
I feel like Boruto would be very aware that his father is a homicidal nutjob and spend his time trying to keep innocents out of harms way, but he does it in ways that are just as bad as his father, because of course, the apple doesn't fall that far from the tree, and that he has this huge blind spot to when his own inner crazy is starting to show, lol. And of course, mess with his mom or baby sister, well then, you'll have a hard time telling Naruto and Boruto apart at all🤭he'd justify his violence and the bodies in his closet because Prey!Narupapa taught him that delusion is just another way to say correct, and there's nothing wrong with customizing your own reality when it's convenient. He'd also spend so much time trying to undo Hima's worst tendencies their dad is teaching her in an effort to help his mom out, but ends up making it worse by teaching her "alternative" tendencies that are just as bad but much more slicker than his father's open bluntness, which ultimately, makes Hinata's job harder, lol. Poor lady, I can see her trying to explain the situation to her crazy husband. Hinata: I'm trying to make sure the kids have a moral compass, Naruto Naruto: The fuck they need that for?
I'll be honest, I really don't know all that much about Kawaki since I don't watch the show, but his design is very cool, and the clips I've seen of him on youtube I vibe with🤭but Naruto being altruistic and adopting a poor orphan? Not fuckin likely at all, lol. Prey!Naruto wouldn't care about any kids but his own🤷🏽‍♀️so you're all set for sure, lol.
Parent-teacher conferences would be lit af😂imagine Naruto's big buff tatted up self sitting in one of those itty bitty chairs at a table lower than his knees while the teacher tries to get him to understand that it's not a good thing that his little girl is drawing her classmates with their heads somewhere other than on their shoulders🤣he would be so insulted and have a very scary diatribe about why Hima's work is "art" not a "red flag". The teacher would resign the next day by the time he was done. Omg birthdays🙈One word: Pinata. Take that as you will, lmao!
And omg, I wanna write Prey!Naruto at a PTA meeting, lmao! And you'd think Hinata was the one that dragged him to it, but NO, he'd go on his own because he's a super paranoid bastard that needs to know what is going on in his orbit and that includes his hellspawns, and if he doesn't like what he hears he'll have to retire a few folks to ensure things are being run for the benefit of his offspring😂
Hima's not doing a kiddy playdate, study date, pretend date, any date. Over somebody else's dead body would Naruto allow his baby girl to do any sorta dating🤣hell naw, and don't @ him about it. End of discussion. Why? Because Naruto knows how guys are, and considering the things he does to Hima's mother on a regular basis, he's dead set on not letting any guy near his daughter until she's at least 80 years old, if she's lucky. Teen!Hima good luck trying to date or get a boyfriend😅especially since big brother's not gonna be too keen on the idea either, lol. And thank you for the early birthday wishes!!💕
I feel like this SOL Prey!Naruto family is set in stone to be a thing at this point, lmao. I'm certainly sold on it. I won't say whether or not I plan on Hinata getting knocked up in Prey, ya'll will have to wait and find out but I definitely think this should be a full SOL fic at this point, lol. It's just too good to pass up🤭
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lady-ashfade · 7 hours
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Eloise Bridgerton x reader! In which Eloise and the reader are friends and Eloise romantically likes the reader but is afraid to confess because she thinks she will be rejected (the reader likes her too, and sorry about the bad english, i'm using the translator 🥺)
Quite Telling
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Eloise Bridgerton x Fem!reader
╰・゚✧☽ words: 487
╰・゚✧☽ warnings: fluff and bit angst, pinning, short blurb.
-`。゚˘: ゚⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ゚: ˘ ゚。.`-
Book’s often portray love as butterflies in your stomach, flattering body that gets weak when you see someone, and a high feeling. Eloise hated the books about love because she didn’t care for it, thinking it was all a lie.
And now she wished she read more.
How was she supposed to get over her feelings of being near you, or seeing your smile or hearing your laugh. The pain she felt from holding herself back from the urge to kissing you was horrible. All she could ever think about was you and she was becoming crazy.
“Dear, are you alright?” Violet asked her daughter who was lost in her thoughts, standing still at the window as rain poured down on the ground. Eloise snapped out of it and grabbed the book that was now in her lap back up and gave a reassuring smile.
“No need to worry, it’s just a beautiful day.” A mother knows much about her children and violet knew her daughter well. Eloise was often to push away when she was going through things. But she could push her to talk about it, so she just smiled and nodded her head.
Just as the sun rises and breakfast was done, the routine of visiting you for morning walks was the thing that woke her up. Her head went fussy when you grabbed ahold of her arm and her heart spiked like crazy.
“There isn’t much my mama has been telling me lately. Each gentleman walking up to door is all the same and non have half the wits they think themselves to have.” rolling your eyes annoyingly, Eloise laughs at your remark.
“Thank the heavens I have no callers, the one thing whistledown gave me was keeping them away.” you glance at her, there was still spite in her voice.
“It’s their lose anyway, you’re a Bridgerton. Pretty and smart sounds like a amazing catch.” you giggle. her cheeks flush red and look away at the compliment you gave her.
Pretty? You think she’s pretty and smart.
“Might I ask you something?” Her mouth speaks on its own before she could stop herself. you humming in agreement and focus on the ground as you walk. ears ready to hear.
could you ever love her? the lump in her throat tighten as her stomach dropped. all she wanted to do was confess or give you a hint. why was it so hard? she shouldn’t be afraid of it. but looking at you and the way the sun cased it’s golden light on you, the beautiful smile on your lips. she couldn’t find the courage.
“Purple?” the excuse didn’t work out as she wanted. you turn your head in confusion to what she meant.
she was a fool. “Purple or Blue? A dress for me tonight.”
“Purple, I like that color on you.”
then she shall wear it for the rest of her days.
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𐀔 please don’t repost my fics on other websites. This is my writing. And I don’t own the characters just y/n.
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aviangrian · 1 month
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thank god chappell roan didn’t release good luck babe in summer 22!
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#i unfortunately had a homoerotic female friendship that ended abruptly and tragically#she was my best friend for YEARS like we met when we were 11#i knew i was queer pretty early on but it’s so painfully obvious in hindsight how badly she was repressing everything#we fell asleep together she liked every guy i liked she was invested in every female situationship i had#like it was so painfully obvious what we were but we were just an undefined weird tension homoerotic pair of besties!#she always wanted to know every detail of my sex life w women refused to hear about the men i was w#she would hold me when we watched movies she wanted to do everything w me and she hated me after we graduated hs!#last conversation was on her birthday haven’t spoken to her once since#this song has sent me into a 3 day spiral session if you can’t tell 😭#never fully gotten over her but i see her post w her new friends at her school 6 hours away like cool cool okay#you’re going to ignore i ever existed instead of confronting your feelings okay! don’t know why she wants nothing to do w me anymore tho#crazy stuff it’s been a year and a half since we stopped being friends but i think about her a lot and i wonder if she thinks about me#i have 2 playlists about her she still follows me on spotify but she didn’t even wish me a happy birthday#at the end of the day i hope she figures everything out. you’re nothing more than his wife and all that#this song THIS SONG SHE WONT LEAVE MY MIND#probably delete later. we’ll see cause all my friends are sick of hearing me talk about her but i can’t stop she’s been in my mind since#this song dropped so thanks chappell 🥹🥹🫡
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bo0zey · 1 year
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anyone else ever get in those silly goofy moods where u just hate urself sooo much that u instantly feel physically almost violently ill just thinking abt urself and also even tho u worked a 12hr shift w no breaks or water running off of the 2 cups of coffee u had for breakfast 20 hours ago, the thought of eating instantly sends bouts of nausea coursing thru ur soul while churning in ur stomach bc ur brain hates u so much that its convinced ur body that u don’t deserve sustenance or anything else that’s life sustaining or promotes ur physical well being because u subconsciously convinced urself that ur such a shit excuse for a human being that u neither deserve nor have any right to anything regarding maslow’s hierarchy of needs bc u r such an awful thing u deserve to be neglected n treated like the nonliving object ur own brain sees ur living body as or am i just mentally ill lol
#laying in bed everytime i think abt myself i feel literally nauseated n like it’s so weird#this feeling comes in waves intermittently just even .01 sec of ‘hm i’m hungry’ FFFFFNOPE HRRGRHFFF VOMITTY#i want to curl up in a ball and die forever i don’t care about me i don’t want to take care of me anymore i’m not even good at it#whyyyyyyyy did i stop taking my meddsssssss i guarantee y’all this is why i’m being such a crybaby on the dash lmaoooo#i have a headache i’m def dehydrated from crying n sniveling n barely drinking any water today while sweating like a mf at work#imma go to bed 🛌 if i don’t wake up i will be soooo pleasantly surprised y’all have no idea FINGERS CROSSED🤞#real talk tho can someone tell me why my body is literally reacting this way for like no real reason#like am i truly that disgusted with myself i make myself nauseous just thinking abt me#ok yeah the answer is yes lol BUT LIKE WHY THATS SUCH A DRAMATIC BODILY RESPONSE TO MY BRAINS DUMBASS THOUGHTS???#ik the body and mind have a super powerful link n the brain influences the body like crazy but like#why this why does my brain literally want me to berate and degrade myself and isolate me and make me cry alone n starve me that’s so mean#i’m not starving btw i’m literally always eating just these past 2 days i’ve been such a fuckup my body won’t let me do anything#i had a chocolate poptart for dinner last night (thurs) n threw myself to bed#i hope i don’t end up hurting myself that would be so lame#i literally don’t have time for that like i am Not doing wound care duty off the clock for my damn self lol#also don’t want to take care of myself so i wouldn’t bandage myself up properly sooo yeah i’m not gonna do anything actually#cleaning ur wounds r super important ok yall ur literally playing god if u don’t do good aftercare snfjfbdj#i can’t believe i’m in this nasty ugly depressive episode i hate this so much i don’t have time for this i hate this cycle#i hate being bipolar 2 n my moods n meds have been so fkcdd up lately that i don’t even have the rlly fun hypomanic episodes anymore#i’ve just been constantly having mixed episodes im unbearable to be around im so sorry for everyone that’s ever spoken to me im insufferable#ok that’s enough im done being dramatic lmao#im gonna give myself a bolus PRN dose of clonnie then i’m going tf to bed#ramblings#shut up cianna
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rubysparx · 1 year
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See my problem is like . I wanna have side blogs and post to them frequently, especially a lot of reblogs I wanna spread around the art I like. But I also love having something to say abt the art. I gotta tag it with something silly or niceys bc as an artist myself that’s like. The only reason I ever post my shit publicly. Is for the funny little comments :3 if you ever put a funny little comment or nice thing on smthn I made, I have that shit saved in a document, I’m serious.
But anyway. If I don’t have anything to say in the moment the post just sits in my drafts, and I really don’t wanna just have my organizational tag on that shit, that’s so lame. And you know maybe I shouldn’t be saying anything maybe these other artists don’t wanna hear shit from me ! Idk man that’s just my mentality. I feel like I’ve gotta leave a little comment ok??
And then I have the issue of the post being in drafts for months, when I finally post it if it’s a reblog it seems like it came outta nowhere. reblogger gotta be getting that notif like “I posted that four months ago, what?” or whatever.
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embraceyourdestiny · 2 years
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When someone has a better life than me I don’t even get jealous I just get sad I’m like man I want that and I don’t think I’ll ever get it
#sorry for the sadposting i get like this whenever I think of family stuff#I genuinely don’t believe my birth family will ever be a place I feel like I can belong. even if I could change all the problems and make#them better I really don’t see the rest of my family being able or willing to try. it would hurt too much and they’d rather be in known pain#than unknown pain even if it’s better in the future#og#i just know I would be so grateful to have a loving family and people who do take it for granted. my family doesn’t hold love for me like#some people LOVE their family. i don’t even think my family really loves me beyond a general semi obligation. I’ve thought about how my#relationships with my family would be if we weren’t conjoined by blood and living in the same house and I don’t think any of us would want#to know or be around each other#man now I’m sad I just want a family that I love and who cares about me and I’ve mostly lived my life thinking it’ll never happen#ill probably die before it does honesty#like my family jsut thinks I’m annoying and a nuisance. no one gives me the benefit of the doubt or tries or even wants to understand me. i#told them I don’t feel like they care about me once and instead of trying to understand why I feel that way they just got mad and said I was#wrong and crazy and yelled at me for feeling unloved. as if it’s my fault. sacrificing things isn’t the same as love and I understand the#sacrifice but I don’t know if they really did it because they truly love me or feel like they have to. no one ever looks at me and feels#immense joy. no one ever sees me and just smiles because they’re happy I’m alive and I exist. fuck I need to stop god
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cherry4reblog · 2 years
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“…”
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luveline · 3 months
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𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem
cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 
You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 
Total quiet. 
“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 
“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 
“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 
“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 
“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 
“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 
“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 
He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 
“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 
Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 
“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 
“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 
“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 
“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 
“Where are you?” 
After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 
He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 
Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 
“Where was I?” 
“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 
“Still where?” 
“Did you hit your head?” 
“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 
“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 
“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 
“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 
“…What?” 
You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 
“I annoy people.” 
“You don’t annoy me.” 
You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 
You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 
“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 
“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 
“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 
“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 
“Am I in trouble?” 
“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 
“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 
“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 
You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 
Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 
You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 
“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 
His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 
“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 
You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 
“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 
He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 
“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 
“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 
“I missed you.” 
“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 
He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 
“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 
“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 
You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”
“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 
You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.
Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 
“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 
“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 
You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 
“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 
“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 
“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 
“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 
In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 
You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 
“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”
His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 
“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 
“She kind of looked like you.” 
You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 
“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 
“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I know,” he says. 
“Do you?” 
“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 
“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 
“What jokes, babe?” 
“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 
You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 
“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 
“Spencer, you remember everything.” 
He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 
You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 
You’re happy to. 
“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”
“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 
“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 
“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 
You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 
“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 
That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 
— — 
Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 
“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 
“So you want three?” 
He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 
Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 
You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 
He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 
You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 
He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 
The avocado is making him feel sick. 
“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 
“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 
“You’re okay.”
“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 
You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 
“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 
“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 
Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”
“But it’s you.” 
“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”
“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 
You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.
But you’re perfect, he’d said. 
To you. And you’re perfect to me.
“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 
You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 
You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 
He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 
The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…
“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 
Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️
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whitmore · 1 year
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whoever called tsa security theatre was right
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backwzzds · 6 months
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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren
eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.
thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.
your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.
eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”
you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”
eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”
don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.
but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you
“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.
eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”
it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.
you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.
after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”
with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.
in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?
when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.
with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.
eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months
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(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses
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Pairing: Geto x reader
Word Count: 1,1k
Synopsis: Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.
Warnings: (y/n) has a really bubbly personality in this, pure fluff and no Geto going berserk
Thank you anon for your cute request 🤍
„Oh, there you are! I searched everywhere for you!”, you shout cheerfully, your steps hollering down the dark alley.
Suguru would recognize that oh so sweet voice out of a million, his heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s you. You’re really here.
“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”, he questions softly.
“Well, I don’t know. I had to steal myself away since Yaga-sensei strictly forbid me to run after you again while you’re on a mission. He said something about getting hurt or killed…But that doesn’t stop me! I brought you something salty to eat!”, you announce proudly, stretching out your hand with a little package inside it.
“Did you really come all the way here just to give me that? You don’t have to gift me something to eat. And on top, you don’t need to get yourself in danger for something unimportant like that.”
“Oh, but it’s not unimportant! After all, swallowing those curses doesn’t taste good, right?”
His gaze meets yours. Suguru never talked with anyone about the breath-taking disgusting taste these things left in his mouth for hours, how it takes all his strength to not throw them back up in an instant. After all, no one ever asked him about this. It seems like it has always been enough that he was able to absorb them for everyone else.
“Why would you think that?”
But how…how on earth do you know? Even though Suguru talks with you a lot about everything and everyone, he never talked about this with you. Hell, not even with Satoru.
“That face you make afterwards, scrunching your eyes just the tiniest bit while pressing your lips together. And I mean, what would curses taste like? Certainly not like sugar and candy, right? And I guess it’s like garlic: you’ll have the taste in your mouth for hours! But at least garlic tastes good when used right. Man, I really want some garlic noodles right now… Are you in the mood to grab something to eat? I know you’re quite busy, but-”
Suguru can’t help but stare at you, the foul taste left on his tongue pushed into the background. You with your bubbly personality made of pure gold. You, who came all the way here just to give him something to eat. You, the only person walking on this earth who ever took the time to think about how it must feel to swallow a curse.
Just you.
“It’s like eating a vomit-soaked rag. That’s what they taste like.”
Your doe eyes dart towards him, reflecting nothing but compassion. Before he is able to think straight you’re standing right in front of him, hand pressing the little package into his much larger one.
“No one should have to taste something like this on a regular basis. But maybe…Oh, I have an idea! Let’s make a pact.”
“A pact?”, he repeats in disbelief.
What are you up to? And why is your smile suddenly as bright as the sun?
“A pact! I promise to always have something to eat for you when you tell me about your missions in exchange!”, you announce proudly.
“This doesn’t seem fair to me at all. You don’t have to follow after me just to give me something nice to eat.”
It seems so crazy, almost unbelievable to him that another human being would be willing to sacrifice its precious time for him. Don’t you understand that this promise would mean traveling after him every day and night multiple times? Don’t you understand that you are too good for that? Especially you, the ray of sunshine at Jujutsu High. You, the girl everyone talks about, the girl that even Nanami secretly adores. Why would someone like you take special care of him?
“What isn’t fair is that you have to go through something like this every single time. I really admire you, Suguru. Just the smell of something disgusting makes me gag. Just thinking about eating something that tastes so horrible multiple times a day…You really are a hero! And every hero deserves some sweets! Oh wait…Are you actually into sweets? I can bring you something salty as well.”
“Satoru prefers sweets-“
“But I’m not asking about Satoru”, you interrupt him immediately.
“I’m asking about you.”
He isn’t able to respond. No, Suguru is absolutely captivated by your kind smile and the way you still hold onto his hand, the package in his palm feeling sweaty just by one look into your innocent eyes.
You…you really noticed. And not only that, you really do care about him.
“Go ahead, take a bite! I wonder what you think. I was never really a fan of salty snacks, but these ones are really good”, you explain all too excited.
Hesitantly, he rips open the package and allows himself to get a taste. Oh, this feels like heaven on earth, the saltiness of what seems like crackers hunting away the stinging taste of vomit in his mouth. But what intrigues him the most is you. How you stand in front of him, swaying back and forth in excitement while your eyes follow every move of his mouth, literally glowing in joy.
“These are really good”, he finally confesses.
“Thank you, (y/n). Now everything just tastes good.”
And so it did every following mission. Instead of feeling disgusted by only the sight of a curse, Suguru somehow feel…excitement. Excitement because swallowing a curse means meeting you afterwards. Excitement because he’ll get to taste a new sort of candy or sweets almost every single day. Excitement because slowly but surely, he fell head over heels for your striking sight.
“Those are a speciality around here! I heard some of the others talk about that shop yesterday and thought you might want to try it as well.”
The candy melts on his tongue right away, making him wonder what you taste like while your pretty mouth happily keeps on telling him everything about that shop. It is so easy to get lost in your sight, lost in your talking, last in your personality.
“(y/n).”
He takes a step forward, putting the other piece of candy you handed him over in his pocket. Your eyes widen in the most delicate way, cheeks turning rosy just by one glimpse into the chocolate brown ocean of his eyes.
You always loved the taste of sweets on your tongue, how your nerves began to tingle just the slightest bit. But in this moment, you realized that tasting Suguru Geto was way better than that. He wraps his arms around you gently, pressing his lips against yours ever so slightly. You feel like fainting, flying, giggling. What a precious man he is, how long you imagined how it must feel to kiss your secret crush. But oh, the reality is so much better.
“I love you more than any candy on this planet.”
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @itsmonicabc
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evansbby · 3 months
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𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✨🎀
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Pairing: quarterback!Ari Levinson x naive!Reader
Summary: You have to do what daddy says, no matter how depraved it may be.
Warnings: smutt, dd/lg vibes, daddy kink, phone sex, riding of stuffed animals, dirty talk, Ari being depraved, Ari being a cocky asshole, innocence kink.
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“But Ari, I’ve never sent nudes before.”
You bite your lip, moving your phone from one ear to the other. It was 2am, and you’re usually never awake this late. But you’d been working on a paper that was due tomorrow morning, and then Ari had called you.
Which was crazy. You didn’t even know Ari had your number. He was a senior and you were only a freshman and it was insane that he wanted to talk to you! You’d only ever met him once at a party last week, where he’d flirted with you sporadically throughout the night. You didn’t think much of it at the time, since he’d been flirting with a bunch of other girls too.
“Just lift your shirt up and send me a picture, sweetheart.” Ari insists, sounding smug on the other end of the line. “Maybe play with your tits a bit? Fuck, you have such nice tits.”
“Y-You think so?”
“Yeah, baby. I can’t stop staring at them whenever I see you in person.”
“Oh. Thanks!” You know you shouldn’t be happy with such a shallow compliment, but the fact that he’s interested in you is giving you butterflies. He was older than you, and he was the captain of the football team and the most popular guy on campus. You were, of course, none of those things.
“Well? Don’t keep me waiting.” There’s a slight edge to his tone.
You inhale deeply, opening your camera and lifting your top up. You’re not wearing a bra and your nipples are already hard from Ari’s smooth-talking and his gravelly voice. You snap a quick picture before sending it to him.
A pause.
“Fuck, you are so hot.”
“Thank you!” You glow at the praise. But then your eye catches the clock on your nightstand, “ooh, Ari, it’s getting late! I need to sleep now.”
“No.” Ari commands. “Let’s talk on FaceTime.”
“But I’m only in my PJs!” (They were babyish pyjamas too, nothing sexy at all.)
He ignores you, cutting the call and then calling you again through FaceTime. You accept it, gasping because he was shirtless on his bed. You’d never seen him shirtless before! His chest and torso were so muscular and hairy—but it made him look so manly that you couldn’t help but feel sparks run down your spine.
“Cute PJs.” He snorts.
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything sexier.”
“Don’t worry, baby. But maybe you should just take your top off completely, hm?”
“Oh, uh… I don’t know about that, Ari.”
“I’m not wearing a shirt, am I? So it’s only fair if you don’t wear one either.” He gives you a charming smile and you feel your insides turn to goo. Oh, you had the biggest crush on him! You can already feel every cell in your body itching to do exactly what he’s asked you to.
You shrug your top off, trying only to focus on Ari and how his eyes widen, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his unruly brown hair. His other hand is out of frame, and you can’t see what he’s doing with it.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamn sexy, baby, showing off your hot, tight little body to me, huh?”
“I—I…uh… y-yeah, I guess—”
“Move up and down for me a bit, I wanna see your tits bounce. Mm, just like that, sweetie. Fuck, you love listening to me, don’t you?”
You watch in awe as he spits down into the palm of his hand, and now you can guess what his hand is doing and it makes your eyes widen but your core pulses with lust too.
“Look how hard your nipples are, baby. Touch ‘em for me. Play with them like a little slut, like how all the pornstars and slutty cam-girls do it. Like you’re being paid to do it, fuck! Goddamn, you’re so hot.”
He pans his camera downwards for a split second, and you gasp when you see his huge cock in his hand. He’s pumping it steadily, and it looks so big and fat and red and—
“B-But Ari, I’ve never watched porn before so I don’t know how a pornstar does it.” You blurt out.
A pause.
“Mm, you’re a real good girl aren’t you?” Ari chuckles breathlessly, running a hand through his hair again. He’s still pumping his dick, but more leisurely now, like a wolf who knows he has all night to play with his prey.
You shrug awkwardly, “I guess I am.”
“So tell me, how does a good girl like you like to be fucked?”
“Wh-What?!”
Ari snorts, “C’mon, sweetheart. You and I both know I’m gonna fuck you real soon. So I need to know how you like it. All sweet and slow? Because I can do that shit. Or are you a real freak in the sheets, and want me to shove your face against a pillow and take you hard and fast on your hands and knees?”
Your mouth drops open, and you suddenly feel so shy because how is he talking about such graphic things so easily???
“Mm, you like the sound of that second option huh?” Ari says, and now he sounds slightly breathless. His face is shiny with a layer of sheen, and his hair is falling over his face as he pumps his dick and his eyes look all over your topless form like he’s ravenous. “The innocent ones are always the freaky ones.”
“I’m not freaky!”
“So you don’t want me to fuck you doggy style with my hand round your throat like you’re wearing a goddamn collar, huh baby?” His voice sounds rough, gravelly, so infinitely turned on. And it’s crazy how quickly he switches back and forth from that to his casual, charming tone.
“Bet your little baby pussy is clenching right now, isn’t it baby? And I bet you’ve made a mess all over your bed because you’re so turned on.”
You glance down guiltily, hating how he’s right. There’s a huge wet stain on your sheets underneath you. You hadn’t realised just how wet you were because of all this. You bow your head and Ari smirks knowingly.
“Virgins get the wettest. And you’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
Your eyes widen even more and you nod. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he know?!
“That’s what I thought.” Ari lets out a low groan, jacking off even faster. “Now listen, I want you to practice for when I fuck you.”
“Practice?”
“Yes, baby. I need to teach you so many things. But first tell me, do you have a stuffed animal in your room?”
Your face lights up, “Sure I do! This is Fluffy!” You grab your stuffed lamb and wave it in front of your camera.
“Give Fluffy a kiss.” Ari orders you darkly, his tone switching to more serious.
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Give your toy a kiss.” His normally blue eyes are now almost black, his pupils are so blown out with lust. And his order is kind of weird but you feel your pussy clench and leak some more, and you know you’re turned on by how authoritative he’s being.
You obey, pecking the stuffed lamb quickly. You feel embarrassed but you’re also feeling extremely submissive. And obeying him is turning you on so much.
“Not like that, baby. Make out with Fluffy properly. Like you would if it was me.” Ari says, and you look at him in shock only to see him smirking lazily back at you. His dick is throbbing against his hairy abs and he’s once again lazily stroking himself as he watches you intently. “Use your tongue.”
It’s by far the weirdest thing you’ve ever done. You scrunch your eyes shut and try to imagine your stuffie is Ari. And it’s not like you haven’t done it before — because you’ve practiced kissing on your stuffies in the past. But never in front of an audience, let alone a ravenous looking jock who’s jacking off while watching your every move intently.
“Mm, just like that. You like kissing Fluffy, huh?” He asks you darkly, and you can hear the steady thwapping sound of him pumping his dick.
“Uh. Not really, it’s kind of wei—”
“Use your tongue more,” he cuts you off, “get your little toy nice and wet, baby. Mm, just like that. Daddy loves it when you do it like that.”
You gape at him, “d-daddy?”
Ari smirks, “yeah. That’s what you’re gonna call me from now on. Got it?”
You gulp, “I didn’t know that was a thing.”
He licks his lips, “of course you didn’t know, you’re just a baby. But guys love it when girls call them daddy. It just means I’m in charge of you and that I’ll take care of you. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”
You mull over his words. That did sound nice, and the idea of calling him daddy was kinda making you feel all hot and bothered down there…
“Try it.” Ari suggests, “Say that you’re just a little baby who needs her daddy to tell her what to do.”
You bite your lip, “uh—okay. I-I’m just a little baby and I need my… my daddy to tell me what to do.” You pause and beam, looking at him through your phone screen proudly, “how was that?”
He nods approvingly, “you’re a natural, baby. Now why don’t you put Fluffy between your legs so he can kiss your other lips?”
Your jaw drops, and yet you feel yourself clench at his words, “What??”
“Come on, sweetheart. Do it for daddy. I’m not here to give you your special kissies down there, which means Fluffy has to do it, right?”
“Special k-kissies?”
“That’s right. Little baby girls like you need their special kissies or else you’ll disappoint your daddy.”
You glance down at your pyjama shorts which are soaking wet. Despite you feeling awkward, you also felt immensely turned on by each word that came out of his mouth. How he was ordering you to do these depraved things… How he was talking to you all condescendingly like you were a baby… Oh, you didn’t want to disappoint him!
Slowly, you spread your legs and press Fluffy down against your clothed mound. You make sure to pan your phone downwards so Ari can see, and he groans appreciatively. His thumb strokes the head of his dick before he moves his hand up and down, now leisurely stroking himself as if he wants to savour these next few moments.
“That’s right, hump your sexy little baby pussy against your toy. Doesn’t that feel so sexy, baby?”
You nod, “feels good, Ari—I mean daddy. It feels good.”
“Damn right it does, daddy always knows what’s best for my little baby.” He runs his hand through his already dishevelled hair. His cheeks are flushed and he’s got a dark, determined look on his face as he continues to jack off, his eyes glued on you.
“Ride your little stuffie just like that,” he murmurs, “get that pretty baby pussy all wet and slippery and worked up, ready for my daddy dick. How’s that sound, princess? You ready for daddy’s dick?”
You bite your lip again, this time in pleasure as you continue to rub your pussy against the stuffie, “I think so. But you’re so big…”
That makes him smile, and he pans his camera down again to show you his fat, angry red cock. He’s got a huge vein running down it, and you get the sudden urge to lick it. God, he was so big! And thick too! You feel giddy and scared at the thought that he might actually be your first…
“H-How many girls have you slept with, daddy?” you ask shyly.
“Only a few,” he snorts, his tone vague before the glint in his eye returns. “I think I’ll only be able to fit my big dick halfway through your tiny snatch.” He says, “What do you think, baby?”
You nod, “I agree, you’re—uh— super big, daddy.”
“Mmhm, but you’d love it even more if I held you down and forced my fat cock inside your baby cunt till I’m all the way in, so deep you can feel me in your fucking womb, wouldn’t you?” he lets out a string of curse words as he pumps himself, “Tell me you’d like that.”
“I would!” You cry, feeling like you’re so, so close to cumming, “d-daddy, I—”
“Shhh, baby girl. Daddy knows,” Ari’s watching you like a hawk as your movements grow more and more desperate, your hips rutting against your poor stuffed lamb. “Put your phone up against your pillow or something, so I can watch you ride your toy properly.”
You do as he asks, no questions asked. And it’s times like this where you feel extremely lucky that you don’t have a roommate. And you hope Ari doesn’t either.
“Yeah, just like that. Get your toy all wet, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Ari spits down on his palm before resuming to pump his cock, “bet you wish it was daddy underneath you like that, don’t you? Bet you wish I was eating your cunt just like that.”
You fist the sheets, trying not to look at your stuffie as you straddle it, humping it like a wanton whore.
“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” A few strands of his brown hair flip over his forehead, and he pushes them back impatiently, “Riding your daddy’s tongue, rubbing your baby cunt all over my face while you hold your little stuffed animal and cry like a baby ‘cause it’s too much for a little girl like you to handle.”
“Oh, I’d really like that!” you cry out, the pleasure within you mounting as you continue to breathlessly rub against your stuffie. You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore, but he’s painting such a vivid, hot picture with his words that you can’t help but agree. “W-Wanna ride you so bad, daddy. Would be so much – ah! – so much better than Fluffy!”
Ari smirks, “Damn right, it would. And tell me how you’d dress up for me, baby.”
“Would wear anything you want me to!”
“Yeah? What about a pretty pink princess dress? You’d wear that for daddy?”
“Y-Yeah!”
“A cute and flouncy one, where your cute little ass pokes out every time you bend over in it,” he grunts, leaning forward as his pumping gets faster, “Your bare ass just begging for a hard slap – fuck! Tell me you’d like that!”
“I’d love it!” you agree quickly, your whole body on fire just from his words. But then, despite everything, a thought occurs to you, “B-But, daddy. I don’t have a flouncy pink dress like that.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll buy you one.” Ari promises. “But first, you need to take your shorts off for me.”
You don’t even object this time. The fabric of your pyjama shorts is all wet and sticky against your pussy, so you quickly discard them before resuming what you’re doing. And you can’t help but throw your head back and moan embarrassingly loudly, because the stuffie’s fur catching against your bare clit feels heavenly. You circle your hips against Fluffy with renowned vigour, all while Ari watches you closely with carnal eyes.
“Show me your ass,” he orders you softly, and yet there’s a note of authority in his tone, “show daddy your cute little baby ass, sweetheart.”
You grab your phone, scrunching your eyes shut as you twist awkwardly, pointing it to your ass. But your heart skips a beat when Ari groans in appreciation.
“Fuck, you’ve got such a cute little butt, princess,” Ari murmurs, his gaze on you intense. “I bet it jiggles all cutely when you slap it, huh?”
“I – ah! – I dunno…”
His dark eyes flash, “Slap your ass for me, princess.”
Oh gosh, how embarrassing! You hesitate, “I…I…”
“Do it. Do what daddy tells you,” Ari runs his tongue over his lips, “I’m in charge and I know what’s best for you, sweetheart. Don’t disappoint me. Spank your little baby ass for daddy.”
You do as he asks, so completely under his control that you just can’t think straight. All you want to do is chase your own pleasure as you continue to ride your stuffed animal, and listen to the dirty talk coming out of Ari’s mouth. You gingerly slap your ass lightly, and Ari moans in appreciation before ordering you to do it harder. You comply once more, you’re so close to orgasming that you don’t even think twice.
“Yeah, fuck. Just like that, baby. God, I wish I could spank that cute ass of yours myself. Next time I see you at a party, I’m bending you over my lap in front of everyone. You’d let me do that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” You’d have agreed to anything at this point.
“Damn right. And I’d flip your skirt over and spank your bare ass in front of all my fucking friends, because you’re my property and I can do that, can’t I?”
“Y-Yes! Ari, I’m so close!”
“Oh yeah, baby? Cum then. I’m not stopping you.”
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you don’t stop moving your hips, imagining your riding his thick cock as you cry out in pleasure. And you can hear Ari talking you through it, calling you his good little girl, telling you that daddy’s so proud of you, that you’re doing so well, that you’re so good at following instructions. And fuck, you’ve never been this wet before, and you’ve never cum this hard before. It takes you a good few minutes to recover, limbs shaking and your core so sensitive.
Once you finally regain your senses, you peer shyly at your phone once more to see Ari throwing away a wad of tissues.
“D-Did you…?”
He snorts, “After that show you just put on? Of course I did.”
Heat rushes to your face, a part of you disappointed that you missed out on watching him orgasm because you were too wrapped up in your own pleasure. “Oh. Wow, okay.”
Ari grins, “Look at you, all shy all of a sudden. Cat got your tongue, baby?”
You purse your lips and stick your chin out defiantly at him, “No! Just… Tired is all.”
Ari nods thoughtfully, “Tired, huh? So then I shouldn’t come over tonight?”
Tonight? But it was so late! And yet your pussy thrums at the thought.
“Y-You wanna come over?” You breathe.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I gotta touch you in person, otherwise I won’t be able to sleep the whole night.” He flashes you a cocky smile, and you watch in awe as he zips his jeans and pulls a shirt over his head. You can’t help but bite your lip. God, he was the most attractive, hottest guy you’d ever seen in your life!
“So, you gonna text me your address, or what?”
“Yes, daddy.”
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So like… when I get horny, I tend to write things like this. ANYWAYS, lemme know what you think! Love you guys! This was sitting in my drafts for ages and finally I decided to finish it! 🩷🩷🩷
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un-lawliet · 2 months
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— A drabble about falling asleep on Gojo, and making him realise something he never even considered.
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You’re asleep before you even realise it, your head softly bouncing as your body slumps sideways.
Right onto Gojo’s shoulder.
Well, nearly.
The blindfolded man turns his head at the slight bump on his infinity, pausing briefly as he sees you sound asleep, a small crease in your brow as your body attempts to readjust into a more comfortable position.
That mission must have taken a lot more out of you than he had thought.
For such a well rounded sorcerer as yourself to fall asleep on the train ride home…Gojo finds himself frowning at his lack of perception.
He could have handled it for you, had you have asked him to, should you have voiced your exhaustion to him, he would have finished the mission quickly and walked you right to your bed.
You hadn’t been sleeping well recently, he had noticed that.
Being too caught up in trying to teach your students whilst also contributing to your part in the eradication of curses, left you a yawning mess, trailing your feet ever so slightly behind you as you walked.
You lack your usual air of charm, your eyes duller, and voice quiet, and Gojo finds himself, missing you a lot more than he believed he should.
When the pair of you return to Jujutsu Tech, Gojo makes a reminder in his head to take over the rest of your missions until you can promise him of your rest.
If you won’t take care of yourself, then he will.
For now though, the traces of a small smile can be seen on his lips, as your head finally hits the warmth of his shoulder, his technique forgotten for just a moment.
Allowing himself the feeling of your hair tickling his neck, and the weight of your sleep, he traces your eyebrow with his thumb, smirking as you sigh contently at his touch.
There’s an old woman, across from the pair of you, sitting with her bags stacked high on her knees, who whispers under her breath to her husband about the joy of young love, and how gentle it can make a man.
And Gojo finds himself growing fond at the thought, humming sweetly as he looks at your sleeping face, and how calm you look when against his frame.
The trains goes through a tunnel, darkness permeating the car for a brief moment.
You shuffle in your seat as the darkness becomes light once more, waking slightly at the sudden change in brightness.
Your head is resting on something…warm?
You blink slowly, taking in your surroundings before gazing up, alarm juxtaposing your peace.
You spring off his shoulder, eyes wide with concession.
“Oh my God!” You splutter out, your face burning with chagrin, your hands raising as if pleading for mercy.
Your relationship with Gojo is complicated already, you hate to make things more confusing than they need to be.
“I’m sorry!” You say, “I didn’t realise I-”
He cuts you off with a small shake of his head, a large hand reaching over to gently push your head back onto his shoulder, a chuckle leaving him as he does so.
“Relax.” He grins, and it’s the softest you’ve ever heard him speak, “If you’re tired, sleep. I’ll not stop you.”
And you breathe out and in, Gojo can feel it on his neck, trying not to shiver at the closeness of your breath.
“You don’t mind?” You whisper out, at last, unable to peer back up at him.
The hand that pushed you back to him trails down to rest on your waist, curling in to trace patterns on your skin. It makes you feel warm, and you bury your face deeper into his shoulder.
“Nah.” He replies simply, his voice sounding contemplative, as if coming to a realisation he had not yet realised he had to perceive.
And when he leaves a soft kiss on the top of your head, you feel yourself melt, feelings of confusion and any thought of hesitancy dissipating in the feeling of his delicate kiss.
“Not at all.”
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Masterlist <3
feel free to leave a request !
A/N: i miss my baby :(
sorry for being gone for FIVE MONTHS omfg ?????? that’s crazy, i’ve been going insane i think but i’m back and i’m here and i love everyone here and thank you so so so much for reading <3 this was just something small i wrote in half an hour just to bring myself back into the whole writing thing :) so please don’t take it too seriously !!!! i hope you are all doing well
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irndad · 2 months
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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
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“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 
“You’re important to me.” 
She has no idea how much. 
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 
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3rachaslut · 9 months
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kinks i think skz would have (pt. 1)
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warnings: smut MINORS DNI!! read sub headers for warnings ig?
(some include: degrading, slapping, dumbification) let me know if i’ve missed anything xx
youtiful was playing whilst i wrote this lol help
part 2, part 3
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chan — mirror sex
because seeing you underneath him breathless and begging for more isn’t enough, he needs to see ALLLL of you all at once
would grab your hair whilst telling you to look at yourself, his “beautiful girl”
NECK KISSES. OMG SO MANY NECK KISSES
“most gorgeous girl in the world aren’t you baby?” he would make you agree by rutting quicker into you when you mewl a yes
grabbing your thighs, ass, tits. pretty much groping you all over
lee know — breathe play
no because he’s actually OBSESSED with watching your eyes roll back into your head from bliss
he’s so degrading with his words too?! “pathetic little slut gone all dumb on my cock?”, “be quiet whore” etc
would ask you if you want to breathe but would just laugh at you when you choke out “yes sir” like haha you actually thought?
FACE. SLAPPING.
would let go of your throat for like 3 seconds just to hear you gasp for breath and then his hand is around your neck AGAIN damn
“only good girls get to breathe baby”
changbin — gagging
would deadass SHOVE your head down onto his cock just to hear you choke on it, you’re heaving and everything
oml the amount of spit falling down your chin and onto your thighs is CRAZY
“fuck yesss baby girl. such a good girl taking my cock. shit-” whilst you’re literally suffocating on his dick
yanks at your hair, tugging you off him just to force you to look up at him with mascara running down your face and bloodshot eyes
he will NOT stop rutting his hips tryna get his cock further down your throat even though it’s allllll the way in man?
“love seeing you this much of a mess doll. fuck-”
hyunjin — breeding
i swear you and hyunjin have the most beautiful, loving sex ever !!!
like, he will cup your face with both hands whilst planting kisses everywhere on your face and calling you beautiful names
“my angel, you’re so pretty”
will practically BEG you to let him come inside you. “just wanna feel you around me baby”
WHIMPERING HYUNE FR
would tuck your hair behind your ears so the sweat on your forehead doesn’t make it stick to you :’(
“you’re just too beautiful sweetheart, please let me come inside your pretty little pussy?”
jisung — squirting
literally the most pussy drunk member of the group?!
as in, he would quite happily eat you out for hours but his FAVOURITE sight is you squirting (like, he’s actually obsessed)
literally BEGS for you squirt on his face because he wants to “taste you”
his chin would be such a mess from being allllll over your pussy but he’s the happiest he’s ever been seeing you moan uncontrollably from his fingers inside you
“want you to squirt all over my fingers baby, that’s it, thereeee you go”
KISSES KISSES KISSES EVERYWHERE
felix — dress up
you wanna rile felix up? wear a maid outfit and watch that guy FOLD
would deadass blush so hard when you ask him if you look pretty like duh, the man has a tent in his pants?
“did you dress up for me baby?”
SO MANY COMPLIMENTS !!
“you look incredible baby girl, can i touch you?” and how could you say no when he asked so politely aww :’(
“you drive me crazy y/n wow”
seungmin — orgasm control
he. is. filthy. with his dirty talk and loves degrading you whilst edging you over and over again omg
would actually laugh in your face when you beg him to let you cum
“who says i will even let you cum tonight baby? bad girls don’t get to cum do they?”
the way he speaks to you like he would speak to an actual dog gets you HORNY. “do you think you deserve to cum doll? have you been a good puppy? i don’t think you have”
and on the nights he would let you cum, he would force you to do it over and over again whilst laughing at your pleas because your pussy is RAW
“isn’t this what you wanted pup?”
jeongin — voyeurism
no because innie loves NOTHING more than to watch you pleasure yourself oml
like, you’d forbid him from touching himself just to see him get so worked up from the scene in front of him and he’s such a whimpering MESS omg
“please please let me touch myself baby, your pussy is so pretty”
SO. WHINEY. !!
like, he’s practically on the verge of tears from being so horny and not being able to touch his cock :(
when you finally let him touch himself over you, he would thank god and omg his whimpers when he comes are so subby omg omg omg
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