#I say as if half my shirts aren’t covered with them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

murdrdocs · 2 months

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venus fly

description. the pollen that sprayed in LUKE CASTELLAN's face earlier this morning has some really weird effects. not that he's complaining.

a continuation of this drabble

includes. sex pollen SUGGESTIVE CONTENT 18+, accidental drugging, loser!luke, best friend!reader, demeter!reader, implied oral (f and m receiving), slightly perv!luke, aftercare almost nonexistent

wc: 4.5k+

a/n: the long awaited sex pollen fic. title from venus fly by grimes. no explicit smut ahead. artwork credit unknown.

Your shirt is fitting you really well.

Your lips are moving, you’re saying something to Luke, he assumes it’s likely at least a little bit important, but he can only focus on how well your shirt is fitting.

Tight enough over your bust—Luke figures you’re wearing a sports bra for capture the flag today since he sees no bra lines, but the bra creates a nice shape for your tits, so he doesn’t need the lines to entertain him.

“Did you get a new shirt?”

You stop whatever you were saying to look down at your chest. You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fix Luke with a look of disappointment.

“Wha–? It’s an older one. All of my others were dirty.” Your bosom is covered, but Luke is still staring. It’s like he cannot peel his eyes away. Though, he hasn’t tried. At least, not until you scold him.

“Will you stop ogling me while I’m trying to talk to you?”

His reply is earnest. “Wait, shit, yeah. ‘m sorry I don't know what's going on…”

You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted. Luke can’t help but fix his eyes there next. You’re wearing chapstick, or maybe lip gloss. Something that’s spreaded over your lips and creates a nice sheen that makes him want to lick it off like icing on a treat.

“It’s okay …” Your words aren’t that convincing but you drop your arms and start speaking again. This time, Luke takes in at least a dozen words.

Really, he should have known what was wrong with him. The same way he should have known that eventually, his insistent nosiness would come back to bite him in the rear.

You’d always warned him of such, telling him that “it’s charming until it’s not”, when you would boot him out of the greenhouse. (Truthfully, Luke had codependency issues but if he never really admitted it to himself, then he wouldn’t have to admit it to you, either.)

You were spending more time in the greenhouse lately. Which has never been a problem for Luke. But your newest project, something completely unknown to Luke as it was apparently a Demeter kid only project, was taking away his time with you. You could barely spare a half hour to go by the lake. You traded chores with one of your siblings for more time in the greenhouse, leaving Luke to work with someone not nearly as entertaining as you.

The only time he got to really see you was early in the morning and late at night. And if he was losing his time to something else—or, gods forbid, someone else—he wanted to know what it was.

So right when you were leaving the greenhouse early that morning, Luke snuck in after you. He searched around, trying to find evidence of you anywhere, and when he did find it, he found his demise there, too.

Sitting next to your favorite pen was a potted plant. It resembled a venus fly trap, but immensely bigger. There were a cluster of them, some with large flowers growing out of the opened mouths. Luke stupidly had the urge to provoke the plant, driven by the desire to see them in action.

He took your favorite pen, and gently stuck it inside of the mouth.

When a puff of yellow smoke hit him square in the face, he hadn’t thought much of it.

When he stumbled out of the greenhouse with a fog in his head and dizziness, he thought it to be a single side effect.

When he started to feel warmer than usual, he thought it to be an effect of the insistent summer heat.

It’s not until he’s waking up on the ground that he really begins to worry.

His eyes open and he is immediately greeted with the sun attempting to blind him. He squints and raises a hand over his face, shielding both the sun and whoever stands over him.

When they speak, he doesn’t need his eyes to tell who he is joined by.

“Jesus, Castellan, if you didn’t scare the shit outta me just now I would be bragging about beating you.”

Luke groans and rolls onto his side. He’s still wearing his battle armor over his clothes and he suddenly feels uncomfortable, like everything has been made wrong or maybe like he has outgrown them. His camp shirt is too tight against his body, pressing the sweat back into his skin and not allowing for any breathing room. His shorts feel awkward in the crotch, as do his briefs. And his shoes are suffocating his feet.

There is nothing he wants more in this moment than to peel the armor and clothes off of his body and run down to the water. But he doesn’t know if the game has ended yet, nor does he know how long he has been out.

There are many unanswered questions he has, but the first one he starts with is, “Why are you here?”

He hears you scoff and knows you have rolled your eyes.

“We were sparring and you just passed out. I wasn’t just going to leave you here.”

He finally looks at you. His eyesight has readjusted to the light from the star above, so it stings just a bit less when he peers one eye open.

You add on, “I didn’t know if you had spontaneously died or something! And now that I know you’re fine…” You bend down and grab your helmet, situating it back on your head and standing at attention over Luke.

He needs to stand. The last thing he remembers is fighting you and he's never lost a fight to you. In his mind, he hasn’t surrendered, and you haven’t defeated him, so he needs to stand.

He tries to, he really does, but his knees get weak and as soon as he’s up, his head spins and he’s right back down.

You swear just before your knees are hitting the earth and you’re kneeling beside him.

Luke can feel you pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, he can hear you asking him a few questions, he can see your wide eyes staring into his heavy ones, but he can’t respond. He can’t do anything but worry about the bile rising in his throat, or focus on the shining water just behind you.

He doesn’t realize that he has begun moving until the bottom of his pants feel heavy with the weight of water.

When he’s in to his thighs, he collapses and lets the ripples wash over his body.

You don’t follow him until after him for a few moments, and when you do, you stand still at the shoreline. You let Luke soak the heat and sweat off of his skin as best as the circumstances allow, and you only speak to him once he’s standing right in front of you in soaked clothes and wet armor.

“What’d you take?”

At first, he’s not playing dumb. It just takes a moment for your words to plant in his mind. Then he plays dumb.

“Take? I don’t know what you mean.”

You don’t entertain his ditziness and instead begin making your case.

“You’re clearly on something, Luke. You’re sweating even though it’s as cool as it usually is. Your pupils are wide and your eyes go from restless to barely open. You keep fidgeting and every few minutes you twitch. And you’re standing here, talking to me, instead of helping the red team secure another win.”

Luke hadn’t noticed most of his symptoms. It’s not like he can notice anything other than the thoughts in his mind, especially when they give him images of your tits bouncing in his face and audible hallucinations of what you would sound like moaning his name.

He decides then and there that capture the flag doesn’t matter. Not when he has what he wants, the true glory, right in front of him.

He heard you, he processed your words, but the sight of your lips distracts him once more and prevents him from instantly responding. He stares instead, watching your mouth through lazy blinks.

He doesn’t even consider responding until you tut.

“If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. I’ll go get Maria L to take care of you then.”

Luke's eyes widen. Maria L is an excellent healer but she also has a pestering crush on Luke, one that encourages her to touch Luke with grazes that border on harassment and lack any professionalism.

“No! Not her.” Luke would feel bad about his reaction to the girls name if he didn’t have such a one track mind.

Your eyebrows raise to tell him to continue. He does so begrudgingly.

He picks at his fingernails and his cuticles until dead skin peels back to reveal blood. But the sting on his thumb doesn’t compare to the dull pain residing in his groin.

He knows that admitting the truth to you would open the possibility of criticism. His current … illness aside, you would never let him live down the day his nosiness actually reaped consequences. He briefly considers accepting defeat, walking away with his tail tucked between his legs, and taking control of the growing boner on his own.

He might be generally inexperienced in these situations, but even he knows that his own fist wouldn’t compare to even the slightest bit of attention from you.

He opens his mouth. “I went in the greenhouse.”

Your eyes widen as if Luke had confessed to committing a cardinal sin, and it’s then that Luke begins to really worry about himself.

“Did you …?” You don’t even have to finish your sentence before he nods. “Luke! You fucking-“

Not really in the mood for your chastising, Luke holds one hand up. He is able to silence you for only a second before you’re slapping his hand away. You’re yelling at him, both for trying to rudely shut you up, and for doing the one thing you told him not to do.

He sits and listens, waiting not-so-patiently for you to tire yourself out. He thought that point would come sooner than it does, but he’s sure that at least two minutes have passed and you’re showing no signs of stopping.

He rolls his eyes, he furrows his eyebrows, and he tries to discreetly adjust the boner in his cargos, but according to you, Luke has never been discreet a day in his life. He has never believed in your so-called ability to see right through him until your eyes pointedly drift to his crotch with his hand still attached to it.

Your insistent rambling ends unfinished. You blink, you don’t say anything. And then:

“Oh.”

At this point, he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. You fill the silence for him.

“Oh, Luke. I told you not to go in there because …”

His eyebrows lift. “Because what?”

You take a breath. “The plant, the Venus Fly, the pollen is an aphrodisiac.”

Luke knows what an aphrodisiac is, he isn’t dumb, but he still asks for clarification. And when you explain, he asks you to dumb it down. Even then, he blinks at you. Because you were right. His nosiness caused this.

He’s considering pitying himself whenever you suggest the one proposed solution, the only solution the Demeter and Apollo kids have been workshopping together ever since acquiring the plant from another kid's quest.

And when your solution comes, Luke determines that there is no way he could pity himself whenever he is in the position he’s been dreaming of for literal years.

He might not have envisioned this particular scenario, as his fantasies usually entailed the two of you alone in a bed not at Camp Half-Blood. But something about this makes him enjoy it more. Out in nature, in the open with many possibilities of being caught surrounding you both. His lips on yours, his lips surrounding yours, as he kisses you messily.

There is something perverse about the idea of getting to fuck you out in the open, gods willing. He didn’t think it was something he would be into, but it’s all he can think about when he’s rutting against you.

He breathes you in. “I’ve …” he takes a moment, rubbing his stiff cock against your crotch once more. He groans as he speaks. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.”

You hum, your hands fisting the part of the back of Luke’s shirt that isn’t covered by his armor.

“Luke,” you start and your voice is already full of hesitance. Luke isn’t sure he wants to hear what you have to say, but he knows it would be wrong not to. He busies himself with kissing your neck and under your jaw.

“It’s the pollen talking,” you tell him. “You’re not yourself. You’re basica-“ He bites down onto where he can feel your pulse thrumming under your skin. You gasp, loud and broken, before continuing. “You’re basically drugged.”

Somewhere deep down Luke knows that there’s logic in your statement, there usually is logic in your statements, besides during those times where you would say whatever came to your mind in the late hours of the night. But he doesn’t care, logic be damned.

He knows that he’s felt this way—or at least in the range of this way—for a while now. The pollen has just given him the confidence to act on his desires.

While the pollen has given him confidence, it hasn’t given him experience.

He sloppily kisses along your neck and jaw, not necessarily knowing what he’s doing but he knows he’s expected to suck at one point, so he does. He just wants to please.

You don’t react much to his lips on your skin, so he lifts a hand and slides it under your shirt and armor. The chest piece doesn’t allow for much maneuvering and Luke frowns against your skin before he separates completely to pull the armor off himself.

He knows the clasps on the metal as well as he knows clasps on his favorite pair of pants. Yet his hands fumble. Excitement and the effects of the pollen, he reasons. But his face becomes warm from something other than the two, something he would rather not fully acknowledge. Especially not when he’s about to get his dick wet in the warmth of the one person he’s wanted since he was old enough to actually understand sex.

You ask Luke if he wants your help with your usual teasing tone, but Luke doesn’t take kindly to it. As soon as he has the chest piece off, he has your shirt following it, and then his lips are back on yours.

If even possible, this kiss is heavier. Firmer. Meaner.

He still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he calls onto the one other time he’d made out with someone. He remembers how he had been instructed to use his tongue and lick into his partner's mouth (a boy from the Ares cabin who stopped coming to camp a year ago). He had been kind to Luke when he didn’t know what he was doing, but now Luke feels like he needs to prove himself. He wants to prove himself. He wants to impress you.

What results is a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s messy, sloppy, and slobbery.

Luke likes it that way.

You pull away first.

Not much has been done, but you look a mess. Your lips are coated in saliva, probably yours and Luke’s, and pride floods his chest. You look flushed, too, and Luke sincerely hopes he’ll be able to amplify the emotion on your face soon thereafter.

“Slow down. Luke.” Your words are soft, gentle, and kind. Just like you. Just like your hands that card through his still-wet hair.

He winces, and not from the way your fingers snag on a cluster of curls. Wrongly assuming the cause of his sound, you apologize and smooth the patch of hair down. Your hands instead slide down Luke’s shoulders and he tries not to frown at the change.

“Sorry,” he admits. He gnaws on his bottom lip, already missing the feeling of yours, and finds himself continuing. “I haven’t really made out with anyone since …”

You nod, lips pulling up in the corners. “Theo?” Luke nods. “I know. We tell each other everything, remember?”

Not everything.

No one else is privy to the dreams Luke has about you. He has never told you, or anyone else, about all of the times he would fist his cock and chant your name in the showers late at night. In fact, when you would ask what took him so long, he would make up a lie about taking advantage of the hot water and solitude. While it was only a white lie, it was a lie nonetheless.

The innocent and naive look on your face as you accepted his lie by omission only made Luke’s cock harder.

You’re staring up at him now with a look different enough, but his reaction is the same. Your eyes hold interest, intrigue, a little bit of mischief, perhaps. You look sure of yourself, like you’ve done this and in this capacity multiple times before. But Luke knows about your experience, nearly the exact same as his save for a few details he wishes to erase.

When you had dished on your sexual history, Luke felt jealousy stirring deep in his stomach. He had been with other people, a guy and a girl, but that was in hopes of getting his mind off of you. Meanwhile, you had been with other people out of personal interest and not self-deluded necessity.

Either way, your experience is almost the same as Luke’s, and knowing so makes it easier for him to take the lead.

He kisses you again but he tries to go slower. Everything in him screams for him to speed up, to take you how he pleased, but he breathes and pushes the thoughts aside.

Taking it slow pays off when you work the armor off of Luke’s torso (without much difficulty at all), and then slide your hands under his orange shirt to rest your palms against his abs. The feeling of your skin against his is striking, even though the touch isn’t much at all. Pathetically, Luke is affected by the meaning more than the physicality.

“What do you feel now?” You ask him after pulling away from his lips.

Luke’s immediate reflex is to say “horny”.

You roll your eyes and absentmindedly scratch your nails against his abs. When he keens, he figures he’s hornier than even he thought.

“I mean other than that. Your skin is warm so I’m assuming you’re still nearing a fever, at least. Are you lightheaded? Nauseous? Anything?”

Luke feels like he’s been slapped in the face. You were asking about his symptoms like a healer. Like an Apollo kid. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were only touching him to gauge his temperature. Were you only doing this—kissing him—to keep his fever warded off? Did you even want this?

Rationally, he knows that you would do anything to help him. You’re his best friend, after all. But he wants you to want this, otherwise it would mean nothing. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even begin to hold a torch to your previous partners. He would be the one you laid with out of moral obligation and not interest.

He hadn’t been feeling nauseous before, but his throat starts to construct as if preparing to trigger his gag reflex.

He hasn’t responded and you’re looking at him inquisitively.

“Nauseous,” he starts. “Hot. Horny. Are you only doing this to keep me from dying?” The question messily tumbles out without him noticing.

You run your tongue over your teeth. “Yes. But there’s also personal benefits involved.”

Usually, Luke could decipher your maze-like answers. But he’s so hot and worked up and lacking an immense amount of patience.

“So you want to fuck me?”

Luke doesn’t continue his work until you respond.

“Yes, Luke. I want to fuck you.”

He has your shirt over your head in less than a minute. The button on your shorts is undone 30 seconds after that. He has completely forgotten about your plea to go slower, but even if he did remember he wouldn’t be able to comply.

He needs to feel you. All of you. Or else he might collapse then and there.

His hands run over your shoulders and torso gratefully, only appearing as the opposite whenever he runs into your bra (a sports bra, as he had assumed). As soon as he has the straps pulled down, he latches his lips onto the newly revealed skin.

Distantly, Luke thinks he would have liked to have been able to lay you back. He wants to see you laid out before him while you’re completely at his mercy. Luckily, he has learned to adapt. He has been dealt unfavorable cards in his life, and turned them into something worthy. He plans to do the same here and now.

As he sinks to his knees, he pulls your shorts down with him. You don’t have to be told to step out of them, but as soon as you do, you’re looking down at Luke with your eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure? I haven’t showered since yesterday and I’m really sweaty.”

Luke doesn’t pay any mind to your words. As you’re speaking, he already has his fingers forced under the elastic fabric of your panties.

“I’m sure.”

He pulls the fabric down.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

He pulls your leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt straight to his face.

He has never gotten this far with someone before, he has never even seen examples of what to do in this position. He could back out. He could set your leg back down and only get his dick wet. But you smell so good, and you’re practically glistening in the sun, and you’re staring down at him expectantly so Luke slowly leans forward, sticks his tongue out, and gets to work.

‎

By the time Luke feels even a bit satiated, the sun has started to descend to its destination below the horizon, creating a soft blue hue over the sky.

You’re panting under him, your back and arms painted with dirt, just a bit smudged on your cheek and a few flecks of it strewn throughout your hair. Your stomach rises and falls with your breaths, drawing Luke’s attention to the fresh cum laying there. There’s some dried cum on your back, and just the smallest smudge at the corner of your lips. Luke doesn’t think much before he licks his thumb and wipes away the white crust from your mouth.

He sits back on his haunches and sighs with his head tilted to the sky. His hands rest on his thighs with an exorbitant amount of self control, as he desperately wishes to wrap his fingers around his semi-erect cock and jerk himself to another orgasm.

He thinks that most of the pollen has left his system by now, and at this point the desire he feels is natural. It’s the same desire he has felt for you for a while now, only amplified by the memory of what the real thing was like with you. It’s addicting. Luke truly cannot get enough, even though he has been out here with you for hours. Somewhere along the way, one of the teams won capture the flag. Luke wasn’t sure which one, but the triumphant yells in the distance alerted him of a victory. Somewhere between his third orgasm and your fourth, the conch for lunch blew off into the distance, but Luke had absolutely no concern for satisfying his physical hunger. He was too focused on the sight in front of him.

When he brings his vision back down, you’re sitting with your legs pulled in your chest and your arms wrapped around your calves.

“We should clean up and go have dinner,” you tell him, your voice weak and hoarse.

Fear strikes Luke still. You’re avoiding his eyes, staring down at the dirt, and speaking in a soft voice.

He shuffles closer to you, reaches out to touch you, and then he reconsiders. You take a deep breath, and Luke rests his hand on your elbow.

“Okay. Are you okay? I know that was a lot.”

You look at him and Luke feels a bit better, because while your eyes are a bit distant, you don’t look upset.

“I’ll be okay. ‘m just tired. But what about you, are you fine?”

There is still that nagging in the back of his head, telling him to take you one more time, but his logical part knows that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knows that you’ve had enough. Which means he, too, has had enough.

“I’m good.” He leans forward and presses a kiss into your hairline. He stands, pulls his boxers onto his lower half, and offers you his hand. “C’mon.”

You let Luke help you redress and hold his hand as he leads you back to camp the back way. You two come out of the forest right by the showers, where Luke tells you to wait while he does his best to sneakily run back to the cabins. He grabs himself a change of clothes, then sneaks into the Demeter cabin where he does the same for you.

He knows that he has just seen all of your intimate parts for hours on end, but holding your panties in his hand makes his ears redden. Blood threatens to rush down to his crotch but he fills his head with the most undesirable images until he reaches you.

Two showers are started, you and Luke stand back to back, and Luke enters his shower.

When the bathroom is covered in steam and you’ve both used the remnants of the hot water, you and Luke redress and reach the dining pavilion just in time for dinner.

He falls into the routine of a caring counselor easily. He answers insistent questions about his previous whereabouts with a passing “I was sick” that earns just enough sympathy and stops the questions all together. A few times he looks across the way to see you already looking at him. Instead of dropping his eyes or teasing you with the slyest middle finger he could muster, he smiles at you just slyly enough to not raise suspicion.

When offerings have been given, and Luke feels full in multiple ways, he finds you at the bonfire and sits with his leg flushed to yours.

He had just begun to think that all of the pollen was out until you rested your hand on his knee and he felt a jump in his stomach.

Goddamn it.

#lukesworld!#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #celeste writes pjo #loser!luke

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euaphora · 7 months

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Bully!Saturo please 🤗

𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄

༊࿐: public sex, possessiveness, jealousy issues, smut, au!, teasing, doggy style bullying, fingering, short temper problems, more!

bully!gojo who can’t ever stop staring at you in class and gets caught by the teacher.

“Satoru, something you need from her? She sure won’t tell you the answer if you keep eyeing her..” she asks, her eyes motioning to you while half the class turn their head towards him then towards you.

You would sit a seat in before him. He would always watch you take notes and raise your hands when the teacher would ask the class a question.

He feels his cheeks turn a dark shade of red and his heart racing, “what I need is for her to learn what a brush is so I can see in-front of me, gosh.”

You feel a pit in your stomach and duck you head down, feeling self-conscious now with everyone making side conversations and giggling at his comment, the teacher shushing everyone up quickly.

“That’s enough of that, back to the lesson…”

He wanted to punch himself for what he had said but he knew it was too late by the way your chest rose up quickly, making it obvious to him you were crying in your arms.

bully!gojo who “makes” it up to you when he sees you struggle with the only class you didn’t understand.

“It’s C…”

You look up from your paper and turn your head towards him, “what?” You asked once you took a glance back at your work, “you must have confused it ‘cause they both have a decimal towards at the end.”

“Oh, thanks!” You smile at him, all of sudden trusting what comes out of his mouth. He grins at your smile, later telling his friends how much you want him.

Delusional.

bully!gojo who thinks he’s the only who you should talk to or be bullied by.

“You should have punched that guy in the face for taking away your notebooks from you, he shouldn’t be-”

“So you could treat me the same way and it would only be okay if you did? Alright, Satoru..” you say, rolling your eyes back. He laughs at your demeanor and harshly pulls you by your face by squeezing your cheeks together while he grits his teeth, “he shouldn’t be touching what’s mine.”

You look up at his eyes to met his dark gaze, “I didn’t know you felt that way ,‘toru…you should have said something.” He gently pushes you off his grip and sighs, shaking his head.

bully!gojo who fucks you against the teachers desk in a empty classroom after finding out she failed you with a D-!

“…and she said s-she— fuck ‘toru — wouldn’t give me an A+…feels so good, please let me cum!” You beg while arching your ass out for him.

Feeling his balls hit your pussy, you let out a small whine— quickly covering your mouth, forgetting you were still in school. He laughs at your poor demeanor with the way you fail to cover your mouth, doing it for you with his two hands while repeatedly slamming himself is die you while you hold onto his biceps.

“doing so good for me and only me baby…aren’t you?” He groaned out, reaching down to your nipples to play with the bud of them.

bully!gojo who likes to tease you by following you around the school, you just trying to get to your class!

“What class do you have right now, princess?” He asks, hands in his front pockets while his uniform tie is loose around his neck, white button up shirt untucked.

You wanted to ignore him because of the pet name but he seemed genuinely interested, “uhm…chemistry, how about you?”

“I don’t really go to my classes, ‘usually skip with the guys and go to one of their houses.” He bluntly told you while he sees you pull your skirt down.

Then why would he always go the classes you both had together? “Weird”, you thought.

You mutter words out that he can’t hear but can guess it has to do with your tone and facial expressions.

“Since when was your skirt too short for you?”

“Since of now I guess?” You say unsurely.

“Gaining weight, baby? Seems like it all went to your ass then,” he laughs off, making you smile a bit, had it really?

“Ah! She smiles, has a great one too..” He looks down at your lips and back up at your eyes, pupils dilated.

“Whatever, Satoru…this is my class,” you point out to the door standing infront of you both, you leave him alone without saying a goodbye as you enter your class and greet the teacher.

He looks down at your skirt hiking up and curses at himself when he feels himself hard when he slightly sees your the bottom of your panties, weight definitely went all to her ass, he thinks.

bully!gojo who stays after school with his friends and passed through the library and sees you tutoring a boy.

“So, you should be able to at least get a 79 with all the notes you have and the Flashcards I gave you to study.”

Gojo watches you smile at the boy infront of him, feeling his blood boil. He walks over to you—leaving his friends dumbfounded on why he walked off— without thinking and sits next to you and places his stuff down on the empty chair next to him.

Turning your head over to him, you furrow your brows and watch him give you a big smile, clearly being sarcastic.

You only ignore him and continue with the conversation you were having with your client when you feel Gojo’s long slender hands rub on your clothed panties.

“So j-just remember what I said and you should…be g-good!” You yelp, trying to form a sentence while his fingers rub hard against your clit.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to make up for everything you’ve done for me these past-”

“She’s good, she has me to take care of her needs..trust me.” Gojo speaks with a angry tone, trying to keep his temper after finding out what he’s been trying to do this entire time.

2K notes · View notes

saksukei · 7 months

Text

simon ‘ghost’ riley and his strength

masterlist | i’m about to throw up,, not rly nsfw

simon ‘ghost’ riley is not your average man and he knows it. he’s tall, his built is much bigger than your delicate little frame and he can bench your body weight like it’s nothing.

he only notices how his size affects you when he came from behind, caging you between the desk and himself. from stuttering your words, to gulping and getting red, he notices how the only thing you fixate on is how he’s towering over you. he let’s out a chuckle, how adorable are you? now he knows your little secret. simon has a shit eating grin plastered on his face under his mask. ‘oh i’m gonna have so much fun with this,’ he thinks to himself.

from subtly flexing his muscles, to wearing compression shirts that outline his god-like muscles, he does everything in his power to make you a shy blushing mess. he lifts heavy things, cages you from behind when he reaches things that you can’t (he purposefully places them higher up so you ask for his help), to bending down to your level so he can listen, to constantly placing his hand on your inner thigh, he’s a menace.

his hands are so rough, calloused and big, they cover your entire waist. especially, how he keeps his hand on your lower back to guide you, knowing the effect it'll have. fucking asshole uses his hand to hold your entire hair in a ponytail, whispering such unholy things in your ear, “you don’t know how much i’m holding myself back, love,” to “we are leaving. now.”

he can’t help but grin foolishly when you sit on his lap as if it’s made for you. “that’s my pretty girl, hm?” he praises, stroking your hair. simon never let’s you out of his iron grip. you can barely budge on the days he decides to pin you down, one hand enough to pin both your wrists.

and how insanely strong he is. he picks you up so effortlessly, one hand on your waist and then you’re thrown over his shoulder, with a playful smack to your behind. when you play fight him, normally, simon let’s out a laugh at your attempts to cage him but then something changes and he flips you over, his deep gravelly voice muttering, “haven’t even used half of my strength with you, sugar.”

he manhandles you so much and he’s so mean about it! from saying, “aren’t you just a doll?” to “i know this is what you want” to “look at you fucking ogling every time i enter the room. can’t get enough of me, yeah?”

all in all, simon enjoys enjoys that you’re so fascinated by his strength and size, whispering to himself something about how you're ‘the most cutest little thing’ he’s ever seen.

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manjjiros · 3 months

Text

TRICKED YOU!

ran haitani / rindou haitani / sanzu haruchiyo x gn!reader (separate)

cws: suggestive but fluffy, like actually kind of tooth rotting, little white lies, established relationship (ran), situationships (rindou, sanzu), discussions of drug usage (sanzu), bonten timeline, ask to tag

from the ASM: tricking the trio into getting some rest isn’t exactly easy. but the probability of getting it to work is not exactly zero, either.

over the loudspeaker: @sin-and-punishment

— RAN HAITANI.

“raaaan,” you whined into the receiver, rolling over in your sheets and letting them rustle against your phone.

you heard your poor boyfriend let out a breath on the other end of the line. “what’s the matter, angel? i’m a little tied up at the moment.”

you knew he was, obviously, or you wouldn’t be calling. you knew his schedule inside and out by now, when he had meetings, when he ran off on sudden jobs to handle important business you had no interest in knowing about.

it was always a little more fun to be able to pull him from some boring, dreadful meeting than when he was free to join you.

“come home,” you breathed, and you heard the way he hummed in the back of his throat.

“i can’t, come on. you know this. don’t make me feel bad.”

“but the bed’s cold, ran. aren’t you gonna come make it warm again?”

there was a brief pause and some speaking in the background. clearly he was in a meeting, which you had expected.

“warm up yourself, angel-“

“no, come home. i just want you.”

ran grunted into the phone, and you heard him pull the device from his ear and shout towards the voices in the background. it was muffled and broke up a bit; the reception in abandoned warehouses typically wasn’t the best.

“ran?”

“i’m here. just- stay put. ‘m coming. you gonna be good f’ me?”

“yeah.”

“fine. see you soon.” he hung up, and you smiled to yourself, successful in your endeavor.

you’d left the door open for him and left a set of sleep clothes at the edge of the bed for him. he hadn’t been sleeping, you knew that; the circles under his eyes and the way he forced himself out of bed in the mornings gave it away. something must have happened, or maybe something resurfaced — he hadn’t told you yet, but you could make an educated guess.

ran arrived at your place within the half hour, the heels of his slick shoes clicking along the floorboards as he made his way towards your room where you waited for him, cuddled up in your duvet with the lamp light casting everything in a warm yellow.

he nudged the door open with a huff, smiling briefly before pausing. “i have to admit, this isn’t what i was expecting.”

“what, don’t wanna just nap?”

“i thought you were calling for a hookup.”

“dirty mind! i never said that,” you giggled at his exasperated face before pulling back the covers to give him space. “come on, baby. you look exhausted. you’ve got bags under your eyes.”

“don’t say that shit, my eyes are fine.”

“because you steal my eye cream!” you pouted then, folding your arms at his pushback.

he grumbled at you but ultimately eyed up the empty space next to you in the bed, letting out a loud sigh.

“cant believe i left the meeting to come take a nap. what is this, high school? i used to do this shit as a kid. play hooky and sleep in weird places.” he yawned as he spoke, undressing his three-piece suit in exchange for the t-shirt and shorts you left out for him. you just nodded along and patted the space next to you for him to climb into.

he joined you, eventually, long limbs grabbing onto you to pull you in close and bury his face in your chest. you smiled as the scent of his cologne floated up around you, the smell of his hair gel right under your nose.

it felt like it was barely two minutes before your talkative boyfriend was knocked out against your chest, your fingers combing through his hair.

— RINDOU HAITANI.

to: annoying prick

me: come over.

annoying prick: how about a please?

me: come over Now. miss you.

annoying prick: i screenshotted that for evidence.

me: i hope you crash on your way here.

annoying prick: i didn’t say i was coming? smfh.

you rolled your eyes at your phone as you fussed with the string of his hoodie around your finger. rindou never listened when you invited him over, always giving you a hard time despite expecting you to bend to his will whenever he wanted to see you.

oftentimes things happened on his terms, not yours. which normally isn’t a problem, except for this one time when you wanted to fuck with him.

your finger hovered over the call button before you opted for another direction, opening up your camera and taking a quick photo of his hoodie string between your teeth, cute and suggestive and alluring. you made sure to get most of your upper body in the shot, laid back against your pillows.

me: [1 image]

me: come over? now?

annoying prick: is that my

annoying prick: cheap shot. stay there. don’t even think about touching.

you laughed at how quickly his tone changed, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. he was a grown man, sure, but he was rude and mean and often thought with his dick rather than his head.

you heard the revv of his bike engine before you saw it through his window, clicking your tongue when you spotted him without a helmet. you understood that he was some sort of criminal, but you kind of liked him, sort of, and didn’t actually want him to crash and die.

you watched him park the bike illegally in front of your place and hop off of it quickly, straightening out the front of his suit jacket as he walked up towards the door.

you heard him grumble when the door was locked, fucking around for the spare key before finally getting inside your home and beelining towards your room.

you broke into giggles as he shoved your door open and undid the front two buttons of his suit jacket, trying to clamber over your body on the bed. “tease, calling me home from bein’ busy just to fuck around, what are you-“

“aht,” you stopped him with a finger to his chest, shaking your head, “not what i invited you here for.”

he stared back at you, hesitating and hovering over your form. “excuse me?”

you chose that exact moment to whip out the puppy eyes, jutting out your bottom lip and laying back on your pillows, “my bed was cold, rin! just wanted you to come over and take a nap with me.”

he gawked at you before sitting up on his knees and running a hand through his hair. “are you being fucking serious?”

“yes.”

“you invited me over. to nap?”

“mhm. and now you’re here. so let’s take one.”

“what the-“

“please?” you cocked your head and tried the puppy eyes again, to which he made a face, but didn’t necessarily move away.

“i don’t have-“

“you leave clothes here all the time. i have some set out in the bathroom.”

“fuck you.”

“maybe next time.” you broke into laughter as he succumbed to his fate, getting out of your bed to disappear down the hall into your bathroom. he returned within five minutes, having changed into a pair of pajama pants and forgetting his shirt, standing at the side of your bed awkwardly.

“well? come in, i’m exhausted.”

“this is weird.”

“no it’s not. just lay down, asshole.” you huffed and pulled back the covers for him. he squinted at you, having taken his contacts out, before reluctantly crawling into the bed next to you. you snuggled up against his side, to which he tensed, but ultimately ended up wrapping an arm around you anyway.

he fell asleep before you did, mouth open and drooling all over your pillow. you took a photo, not because you liked him or anything… well…

— SANZU HARUCHIYO.

convincing sanzu to listen to you at all was like trying to train a poodle. it was very, very difficult because he was very, very defiant.

you knew he hadn’t been sleeping well. you knew it well, unfortunately; his work was catching up to him and drugs weren’t your favorite solution to the problem.

you told him time and time again that he needed rest, that it was because you cared that you were nagging at him, and yet he always bit right back at you like a dog nipping its owner’s hand.

you had had enough. so you decided to play the game.

you sat in his car waiting for him to finish some job in some remote part of the red light district, in a back alley with no prying eyes or lights, really.

you sat in wait until finally sanzu reappeared in the faded yellow light of the nearest street lamp, wiping his hands on a handkerchief and kicking a lead pipe against the wall. you chose not to question his line of work.

he grinned when he saw you in the passenger’s seat, as if he had forgotten you were there, and hurried around to the driver’s seat to get in and lean into your space.

“all done now, baby.” he pressed kisses to the corners of your lips, making you giggle before he caught your mouth with his own.

you hummed against his lips, lifting a hand to curl your fingers around his tie. “haru,” you breathed, tugging lightly on the fabric, “can we please get home? wanna get into bed with you…”

he pulled back slightly to meet your gaze with his own crazed one, eyes studying you almost clinically as a grin spread across his face. “oh yeah? baby wants to get home?”

“mhm.”

“hell yeah, i’ll get you fuckin’ home.” he pulled back from you to start the car, and you gripped the oh-shit handle because you knew he was just going to peel out of the alleyway.

and that he did, whipping down side streets and revving the engine, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping your thigh.

you giggled to yourself as you watched the veins in his arm, shaking your head. he just had no idea how easy he was to fool.

it took far shorter of a time than it should have to get back to your place, and he parked before hurrying out of the car and getting the passenger door for you.

you got out and led him to the door, feeling him stalk your every movement, only ever one step behind you. you unlocked your door and kicked your shoes off with a laugh as he tried to pin you against the nearest wall, freeing yourself from his grasp and making your way towards your room.

he grunted as he followed you, muttering something about you being a tease.

you turned on your heel once you got to your room and took a seat on the bed. “much better. i’m so tired, haru.”

“huh?”

“let’s just go to bed, how about it?” you started to get undressed as he stood in your doorway, scarred lips twitching with confusion.

“what are you talking about?”

“haru, let’s go to bed. i know you’re tired too.”

“no, this is-“

“no buts.” you stood to shimmy out of the rest of your clothing and tug your pajamas on. “strip and cuddle with me.”

haru wasn’t a cuddler, not by a long shot. but, with you…

he felt like he blinked, and suddenly he was on his back in your bed with you at his side in the dark. you snuggled up closer to him and ran your fingers through his hair.

soon enough, his breathing evened out, and you smiled to yourself as his grip on you grew tighter in his sleep.

#ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #♧ — ran haitani #♧ — rindou haitani #♧ — sanzu

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papercorgiworld · 4 months

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The Death Eater Drabbles:

Untie me

Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo, Draco and Blaise

A certain death eater ends up being your prisoner and he is being a bit difficult.

Warning: suggestiveness

A/N: Apparently drabbles are supposed to be exact 100 words long, so let’s call this the drabble+ version because you get extra words for free. Yey!

Also, like technically I wrote a part 2, but I don’t really like it cause it’s a tiny bit angsty and feels boring. But then again, I’m pretty sure there’s a braincell working on part 3. So I really have no idea where this is going. But for now this is just a short fun thingy on its own.

I added part 2: Cuts and bruised egos

The war against Voldemort and his deatheaters was lasting longer than expected. Somehow you had ended up in charge of the top secret safehouse of the order of the phoenix. Only a select few members knew about it. It was a place of refuge in case of emergency, you had permanency there in case of medical emergencies and to study books to find out more about horcruxes.

You were brewing wiggenweld potions to be prepared for the next wounded person that might be brought in. Then suddenly you heard a lot of noise and grabbed your wand, pointing it towards the door. Thankfully you heard Harry say the password and the door swung open revealing the golden trio and someone else whose head was covered.

The mystery person struggled as Ron and Harry dragged them inside. It was then that you noticed their hands were tied behind their back. Hermoine saw your confused and worried expression. “Don’t worry I enchanted the ropes. It’s safe.” The mystery person snorted at Hermoine’s words. You nodded but that wasn’t on your mind at all. “Who is it?” You asked with urgency. Ron pushed the person into the guest room and pulled off the bag covering the mystery person’s face.

Your eyes widen.

“Mattheo Riddle.”

It takes a moment before you proces what Hermoine said and what you’re seeing, but it is true. The golden trio managed to capture the dark lord’s son. “Look (y/n), we gotta leave now. You have to watch him. But be careful. You can’t trust him.” You stare at Harry as he gives you your orders. You would much rather have an explanation. However there seems to be no time for that, because they’re already at the front door again. “Be safe.” You whisper and the three grimace before shutting the door.

You turn around and make your way to the guest room where, believe it or not, Mattheo Riddle is still standing with his hands tied behind his back. His face is bloody, clothes dirty and hair messy. Clearly he didn’t go down without a fight. But, apparently he wasn’t slapped around enough since his arrogant smirk was still ever present. “Aren’t you going to untie me?” He asks like you were being a little slow. You frown. “No. Of course not. I’m not stupid.” You say, annoyed with his attitude. He smiles wickedly and licks his lip taking a small step towards you. “So, does that mean you’re going to feed me? And wash me?” You’re baffled and your mouth falls open for a moment. “Looking forward to it, love.” Mattheo adds taking another step in your direction. You huff and turn around, closing the door behind you. Oh dear, this is going to be something.

“Theodore Nott.”

You turn to the trio with a questioning look. “Long story.” Is all Ron says. “We need to leave now.” Harry announces. Hermoine grabs you while Harry and Ron leave the room. “Be careful. He’s a death eater. You can’t trust him.” You nod and watch as she hurries to follow her friends. When you hear the front door close you turn to your prisoner. Some of the cuts on his face still bleed, but what is utmost worrying is the bloodstain on his shirt indicating he might have a serious injury. Theo just gives you a smug half smile that makes you feel like he’s in charge. “Mind helping me out?” Theo asks as he turns his head as a way of motioning to his tied hands.

You raise your eyebrows at his ridiculous question. “Oh yes. And shall I also offer you my wand.” You return sarcastically. He huffs like you're being childish and difficult. He takes a seat at the end of the bed and you turn around heading to the door to get rid of his demeaning presence. “Are you going to hold my dick when I have to pee then? Because in that case I might make some extra suggestions. I bet you’re real handy.” His grin shows how much he enjoys playing with you. You throw him a dirty look, but decide to leave it at that and close the door. He’s clearly not that hurt. I’m sure he can bleed for a little longer.

“Enzo Berkshire”

You frown confused. All his friends are death eaters but Enzo as well, that’s a bit surprising. “He attacked us.” Harry explained seeing as you were clearly surprised. “This is a big misunderstanding. I’m a peace negotiator.” Enzo quipped, taking a pleading step towards you. Ron pushes him back immediately. “The bloody worst one ever.” Hermoine shifts her gaze from Enzo to you. “Don’t believe a word he says and make sure he doesn’t escape.” With a dumbfounded expression you watch the trio leave. Zero explanation. It’s always the same with them.

As soon as Enzo hears the front door close he walks towards you. “This is all a big mistake. I’m innocent.” His sudden closeness startles you. For your own safety you have to assume the worst, that he just like his friends serves Voldemort. He ignores the fear in your eyes and pushes on. “(Y/n), please untie me. You can trust me.” You take a step back and shake your head. “Not happening, Enzo.” His face gets desperate as he continues pleading. “But what if I get an ich? Or other things?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. “Will you come help me?” Not really realizing how dirty Enzo’s suggestion was, you nonchalantly answer: “Sure Enzo.”.

He’s a little surprised by your answer but he isn’t going to let the opportunity pass by. “I guess in that case I’m most definitely a dangerous man, you can never let me escape.” He winks at you and it is only then that you realize what you agreed to. His cheeky smile gets brighter as he sees your face fall when the realization hits you. “No. Whatever you’re thinking Enzo, no.” With that you quickly exit the room with a tomato red face. Great! I’m in charge of a horny death eater, just my luck.

“Draco Malfoy.”

All your curiosity was instantly replaced by annoyance. “You brought Malfoy here. What a blessing.” The words leave your mouth with a thick layer of sarcasm. Draco completely ignores you. “You will pay for this, Potter.” Harry looks at you and smiles while wiggling his eyebrows. “Have fun babysitting him. I would say be careful that he doesn’t escape, but I’m pretty sure the death eaters will bring him back.” A faint laugh escapes you and you walk the trio back to the front door to say your goodbyes.

When you turn around Draco is standing in the doorway of the guest room, now a prison room. “Fucking untie me.” Malfoy demands with venom in his voice. You push against his chest and make him take a few steps back into his new room. “Since you asked so nicely: no.” You answer with fake kindness. “Who do you think you are?” He snaps taking a step towards you. Though you’re slightly intimidated now that he’s towering over you, you manage to keep your cool. “Pretty sure I’m the one in charge here.” Draco huffs, but before he starts snapping again you push his side. He winces in pain and takes a step back.

Just as you thought, the dirt on his shirt indicates a bad fall on his side, probably some painful bruises. “How about you calm down and I will come back later to check your injuries.” He narrows his eyes at you in frustration. “You won’t untie me and now you’re planning on undressing me. Sounds like a bad date.” You roll your eyes and leave the room. A bad date is an understatement.

“Blaise Zabini.”

A small gasp escapes you as you make eye contact with the man under the hood. “You brought Zabini here?” You ask, not ready to process what your eyes are seeing. “We kinda stumbled into him. He was difficult to catch but having one less deatheater on the streets was well worth the work.” Harry explained. You scan over Blaise’s face, immediately noticing several bruises. When he looks up to you, you quickly look away. “Keep your distance. He’s no good.” Hermoine says as the trio leaves the room. Ron pats you on the shoulder as a way of wishing you luck. You watch your friends close the front door as you lean against the doorframe of the guest room.

You turn to Blaise and offer him an awkward smile. He’s the first one to break the silence. “I’m going to be honest. Normally I would find this all very kinky but right now I would really appreciate it if you untie me.” You roll your eyes at his playful tone. “How about: no. And I suggest you keep quiet or I'll tape your mouth shut.” Blaise looks frustrated with your lack of cooperation for a moment, but then his smirk returns. “Even kinkier. This should be fun.” You regret saying anything. “Nothing kinky is going to happen, since I’m leaving.” Blaise is annoyed that you don’t entertain him and go along with his joke. However as he watches you leave he panics. “Hey, I was being serious! You can’t leave me all tied up.” You ignore his frustrated voice and close the door. Seven years at Hogwarts and now I’m stuck with him again. Absolutely lovely.

#slytherin #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini x reader #slytherin boys #enzo berkshire #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #death eaters #papercorgiworldwritings

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greghatecrimes · 10 months

Text

my god I just discovered this promo picture and i am DYING. does anyone know what some of the shirts say?? left to right i have:

wilson: admit the past, deny the present

thirteen: “has a reason”. either “everything has a reason” or “not everything has a reason”. her hair is covering

chase: don’t blame me blame my gender (god thats SO him)

kutner: doing things changes things

house: hope is for sissies

foreman: bad mojo is not a diagnosis (LMAO)

cuddy: something with “don’t trust opinions”??

cameron: looks like the second word is “something”

taub: something with “do good”?

also the fact that half of them are barefoot and the other half aren’t with no rhyme or reason. i am DYING

#all of the shirts that i can read are seriously so them #greg house #remy thirteen hadley #james wilson #robert chase #hate crimes md #house md #lisa cuddy #chris taub #allison cameron #eric foreman #lawrence kutner #houseposting #promo pic shenanigans #100 #200 #500 #1k

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notjustjavierpena · 3 months

Text

Mouthful

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Made with the help from my loveliest @strang3lov3 with a talk about men conking out after cumming and how Hubby Javier still hasn’t gotten his dick sucked. So to all the girlies who want to give your fictional husband a blowjob, this one is for you.

Summary: Javier is starting to come down with the flu but he just simply won’t lie down to have some rest. You have a trick that never fails.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, husband!javier, domestic life, sickfic, Inés is a menace, Javier is a stubborn man, ❤️ JAVIER HAS A DAD BOD!!!!!!! ❤️, blowjob, deep-throating, mouth-fucking, praise, dirty talk, cum-swallowing,

Word count: 2.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52856839

Mouthful

You hear the clink of plates being lifted out of the dishwasher, the sound of Sebastian crying, stuttering sobs as he is bounced, and Inés going on about something that happened in preschool. Javier is barely listening, replying with half-sentences that seem to make his daughter more frustrated with her father not paying attention and eventually leading to her talking louder.

The idea of what will meet you in the kitchen is enough to make you want to flee to the bedroom, enough to make you want to pretend that you haven’t heard them during an extended nap. However, you could never bring yourself to let Javier go through the hell of late afternoons with children alone.

“Look who’s up,” he says with a desperate smile as you enter the room, twisting his whole body to make his crying son spot his mother. As soon as Sebastian’s eyes gaze upon you, his wails die down and they stop completely the moment you take him from Javier’s arms.

“Mom! Guess what happened today at school,” Inés interrupts just as you are about to say something. She speaks loudly, and you automatically reach up to cover Sebastian’s ear that isn’t pressed into your shoulder.

“Inés, indoor voices,” Javier finally manages to say, reaching up to rub his temples, “Shhh…”

“Sorry,” she makes a face, not completely convinced.

“What happened at school?” You ask but instead of looking at her, you find yourself staring at your husband who looks like absolute hell, glassy eyes and exhaustion radiating from him. Inés giggles as she tells a joke that isn’t really a joke, too lost in her story to notice that you aren’t really listening.

Javier places a hand on the kitchen table, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. His shirt is crumpled, his eyes have dark circles and you don’t actually think that he has even noticed that he is sniffling every other moment. He sighs deeply, breathing mostly through his mouth as he does it, and then goes back to emptying the dishwasher.

“Are you okay, honey?” You ask him, stopping midway to shush Inés who doesn’t look pleased, “You look under the weather. Are you feeling okay?”

There’s an almost offended nature in Javier’s reply. He doesn’t stop what he is doing, sorting through the cutlery, “What? No, yeah. Estoy bien, mi amor (I’m fine, my love). Just need to get this done.”

“And then what?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“And then I’ll get started on dinner,” he tells you with a tired smile that isn’t very convincing.

“You look like… m i e r d a (shit), and you probably feel it too. I was sick last week,” you spell out the dirty word, using the Spanish word because the English is short enough to make Inés guess what you are saying.

“Mom,” Inés predictably complains.

“I’m fine. I just need 20 minutes where no one comes near me,” he says with exasperation. He finishes up the bottom drawer of the dishwasher and goes to pull out the top one. You find yourself laying a hand on top of his, stopping him in his tracks.

“Javi,” you say softly.

“What?” He grumbles.

“I can finish up here. I’ll cook dinner,” you tread lightly, knowing that he hates being babied by you. Him not pulling his weight is a common fight that the two of you have had, and he probably feels on edge when you ask him not to help out with the kids.

“I can do it,” he snaps but suddenly sneezes, and it ends up making his nose prickle enough to cause his eyes to water.

“Go do something else, laundry maybe. I’ll do this,” you say a little more firmly, strategically sending him to your bedroom to make him spot your bed and have some well-earned rest, “It’s really not a problem, and you know I hate doing laundry anyway.”

“Fine,” he holds his hands up in surrender.

“I love you,” you say in a sing-song voice as he leaves the kitchen, “Go have your 20 minutes.”

Inés looks longingly after her father but you manage to distract her with a snack before she runs after him. You run your free hand over her hair as she eats a peanut butter sandwich, Sebastian cooing happily on your hip as he has been allowed to chew on a banana.

“Do you want to watch cartoons before dinner?” You ask, “Give Mommy some time to get things done in the kitchen, and then I can hear all about school while we eat?”

“Fine,” she parrots her dad, holding up her hands as well and running off to the living room. You follow her, setting Sebastian down in his playpen and turning on the baby monitor. Then you turn on the TV, adjust the volume, and let Inés busy herself by singing along to her favorite theme song.

You finish emptying the dishwasher, cut vegetables, and throw them into the slow cooker with other ingredients, and after you check on both of your kids, you realize there’s some spare time before you have to pick Lucas up from his play date.

You decide to go upstairs to do another round of laundry, but when you cannot find the laundry basket, you go to your bedroom. Javier must have taken it when folding clothes.

“Jesus, why are you not resting? I sent you here so you’d eventually nap,” you groan as you enter the bedroom and see Javier putting his shirts on hangers.

“I told you I’m fine,” he seems even more sick at this point, nose slightly congested and causing him to speak nasally, “I can do this.”

You walk up to him to yank a clothing hanger out of his hands and throw it onto the floor, receiving a glare in response. Javier doesn’t look pleased with your behavior, but you don’t find his stubborn attitude charming either.

“Javier F. Peña,” you tut, “Just go lie down and trust that your wife has everything under control. It’s what a lot of husbands do, you know.”

“Well, wife, I don’t need your permission to do housework,” he tries to push past you but you catch him in a disarming embrace, giggling as he tries bending down to pick you up so he can move you out of his way. You avoid his efforts, catching him by the wrists when he straightens once more, and push him back towards the bed.

“You need rest, husband,” you shove him when the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he lets himself fall down into the mattress, bouncing slightly as it connects with his back.

“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child,” he groans dramatically.

“Then stop acting like one,” you pull the baby monitor out of your pocket and place it on the nightstand. When Javier tries to sit up again, you snap your fingers and point at him, “Nuh-uh, lie down.”

It makes you realize that you need to use alternative methods to get him to obey; he simply won’t do as he has been told, and if anyone is ever in doubt about where Inés gets her stubbornness from, you’ll simply glance over at her father to answer the question.

“What if I treat you to something special?” You ask with a little smirk, moving to the end of the bed so you can proceed to crawl onto him. You sit on his legs, “Think that’ll make you relax?”

You already know the answer to that question. He looks ready to conk out.

“I’m actually fine, I don’t need—“

“I know, Javi,” you reply. Your fingers find his crumpled shirt and you pull it out of his jeans, shoving it up over his stomach so you can access his belt, watching your husband twitch underneath you at the sound of the buckle clinking as you undo it.

He lifts his head to watch as you tug down his jeans and underwear, “Just so you know, I’m not sleeping after this. I have to—“

“I know, Javi,” you repeat, bending down to nuzzle your nose against his soft stomach. His cock lays flaccid against his thigh, but you pull it out from underneath the waistband of his briefs to lay it against his tummy so you can skim your palm up and down the shaft. His soft cock slowly comes alive underneath your touch, and soon you can wrap your fist around him to stroke him till he stands completely erect.

Below you, Javier groans when you press a kiss to his belly, “And I have to get the laundry done.”

“Whatever you say, baby, let me take care of you and I’ll let you do as much laundry as you want,” you hum against his skin, relishing in his warmth and his so-called dad-body - the last year has blessed you with Javier getting a little softer to the touch - that you nuzzle up to at every opportunity you get.

Javier isn’t a fan of himself growing soft around the middle but you savor it every time you get to see that bit of pudge strain against his usual jeans (which he refuses to buy in a bigger size). If you thought he was gorgeous when his muscles were toned and his body looked younger, you had not been prepared for how good he looks now that he is older, rounder, and getting comfortable. His arms are still deliciously strong; an overwhelmingly sexy result of still carrying Inés around everywhere, picking her up from the ground if she has a tantrum at the grocery store.

“God, you’re so sexy,” you pinch his stomach to earn a little noise. Javier says your name in disapproval but you just look up at him with a smile, grabbing more of his pudge before biting into it and kissing it afterward, “Let your wife have her fun.”

Javier is just about to say something - you don’t know whether it is about his body, the lack of a blowjob, or laundry once more - but you know it’s more complaining and so you cut him off by running the flat of your tongue from base to tip of his cock. He tastes like salt. If you had the time, you would not finish until his scent and taste were everywhere on you. In your clothes, etched into your skin, and on your tongue.

“Oh shi—“ he gasps, resting the back of his head on the mattress once more. He breathes deeply in through his mouth, nose still stuffed, and stares at the ceiling as you work your tongue up and down his shaft only to follow the wet trail with your nose.

When you reach his cockhead a third time, you suckle on the very tip to rid him of the pearl of precome that has accumulated at the slit and is threatening to slide down (you want to treat yourself to it before it does). Above you, Javier moans at feeling your mouth, not your tongue, properly for the first time.

“Fucking hell, baby, gotta admit that I didn’t see this coming,” he half-chuckles, half-groans.

“Maybe I just wanted to shut you up for a moment. You are stubborn, you know,” you pull back to talk, look up at him, and nuzzle needily at his cock. He looks down at you but you simply smile, “I looove you for that though, not annoying at all.”

You follow your little snarky remark up with a press of your lips to the underside of his shaft, using a hot open-mouthed kiss to cut off whatever offense he might take from your teasing. He doesn’t even seem to register it after feeling your mouth on himself again.

Then you let saliva gather in your mouth before spitting directly onto the head, using your hand to smear it down his length by stroking him a few times. You lean over him and bring your mouth down over his girth, no teasing or anything, until the thick head hits the back of your mouth.

“Fuuuck, and then up again,” he groans, a strong hand reaching for whatever he can grab of you. His fingers curl around your shoulder, moving inwards until they dig into the back of your neck. Slowly, you drag your lips all the way off of him again.

Javier makes a sound when you pull off but it quickly turns into a whimper as you let more saliva drip down. You smear this too, swirling your sinful tongue around the tip and occasionally licking like were you eating a popsicle on a summer’s day.

You can feel him pulse against your lips, so you show mercy and let him into your mouth again. He is hot and heavy on your tongue and a moaning mess above you, nails starting to dig into your skin.

You start bobbing your head, hand on the base of Javier’s cock to hold his generous size in place. When he bumps against your throat for the first time and thus makes you gag the first time, he lets out a sound that you can never get enough of and it causes your cunt to throb between your legs.

“Who would think that a pretty girl sucks cock like that? Oh, fuck… I love you, just like that—” he talks in a way that makes you think he might not even be aware of what he is saying but is simply letting his mouth run, “Suck that cock, baby. Good fucking girl, married the right one, didn’t I?”

You hum in reply and he growls at the vibrations of your voice. The pride you feel is indescribable, and so you seek out his approval once again by moaning as you taste him. Even if it results in your eyelashes dampening from Javier pushing his hips upwards, you lean further down and force yourself to relax your throat.

He slides into the tight space at the back of your throat and his hand flies to the top of your head. He fists your hair desperately when you gulp around him and make your throat spasm, tugging at your follicles to the point where tears slide down your face. Soon, they also mix with the spit coating his cock.

You swallow around him again. Javier holds your head with both hands now, “Can I - Christ - can I fuck this gorgeous mouth? Por favor (please), baby.”

Even if it is hurting a little, you nod the best you can because Javier’s groan as he starts thrusting his hips upward is worth any ache in your body. Your thighs flutter, your clit pulses.

Both his hands gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He uses it to move your head as he pleases, makes you bob on his dick until you gag wetly with every other thrust of his hips. Every time he bucks his hips, his thigh muscles flex and your nose buries itself in his happy trail.

“You gonna take it?” He rasps, chest heaving. He is nearly there, muscles in his whole body twitching as he slowly loses control over himself when pleasure is so close. The next thrusts are maddening and you can’t blink any tears away even if you tried, “Fuck, swallow, baby. Take my come.”

You look up at him through your wet lashes and hum a mhm, confirming. Yes, yes, yes, give it to me.

You know he is peaking when his breath stops. He holds it during the last thrusts, finally letting out a loud moan as he finishes and sucks in a deep breath afterward.

His cock spurts in the next moment. You can feel it hit the back of your sore throat, warm and salty, in several pulses and automatically, you swallow hungrily around his girth. The action makes him groan weakly and his hips stutter until he finally needs to let go of you. His arms lie flat along his side.

“Holy fuck, baby,” he sighs contentedly when you pull off, “Fuck, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything, Daddy,” you tease, and then you treat the sensitive head of his cock to a few innocent kitten-licks, essentially cleaning him up until he softens.

He whimpers when it becomes too much, and so you pull off to kiss him along his stomach. You can hear his breathing changing, turning into something less erratic.

“You okay?” You eventually ask but receive no reply. You look up.

As predicted, Javier snores. You smile to yourself as you push yourself away from him, careful not to wake him up as you pull his briefs and jeans up again, leaving the latter unbuttoned.

“Javier Peña, the most stubborn man on the planet has a weakness,” you whisper and shake your head with a fond smile.

You grab the baby monitor from the nightstand and leave him to sleep, knowing he’ll wake up feeling a lot more sick and, hopefully, a lot more cooperative. You bring him a glass of water and some Tylenol to wake up to, write a note for him about how much you adore him, and that you’ll take care of everything. He needs it.

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#javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javi p #javi peña #javi pena #javier peña #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena one shot #husband!javi #my writing

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vacayisland · 5 months

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Hiii I saw that you were still doing requests so I was wondering if you could do a John Dory x Reader van life fanfic?

I dont have anything particular to ask for just a little story of how it would be like to live with JD in Rhonda and have a simple life after all of the events that happened with Floyd and stuff :)

@!; "Put on Pants!" John Dory / Reader

"Summary"! You love JD, you really do... but at this point, you're about two seconds from slapping his pants in his face if he won't put them on!... and this is exactly how your mornings always start with your husband <3 "Tags"! Fluff and a dumb plot I made with my friend for a goofy story. Also I'm very very sleepy while writing this <3 I was also being silly, I need to have fun writing <3 @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen

@!; You loved John Dory, you really did. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have married him all those years ago, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have put up with his weird antics or his little shenanigans, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have left your old life behind to start a new one with him, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be here right now arguing about him and his pants! It was a very odd argument, not even an argument more like a back and forth bicker, about John Dory refusing to wear his pants inside of the house. Not only not his pants, but his shirt as well! Now, granted, you understood where he came from. It’s his house as well, you both lived in Rhonda after all, and he did live here first, but you also lived here! And not to get you wrong, you could stare at the site of your husband, nearly, butt naked for hours on end yet… there comes to a point where the pants need to go on. If no one is coming over, JD is walking around in nothing other than his boxers and goggles. Sure he’ll put on pants and the vest you got him if he has to go out. But as soon as he gets home? Somehow all of that disappears and he’s left in his boxers, which both baffles and amazes you. How he even manages to basically strip that fast, you aren’t even sure. All you know is that you’re slightly fed up with seeing him in boxers for a majority of your day.

“Babe,” You tried explaining to JD without laughing, knowing this was just plain ridiculous. Though, seeing as your husband just walked out of your shared room for the umteenth time in nothing but boxers, you had to bring it up. Again. “You need to put on pants, you can’t just walk out here in boxers! We have a window. Multiple windows! And none of them are tinted.” “Our house.” Was the only grumble you got from your half-asleep husband, who was brushing his teeth all the while trying to make coffee. He wasn’t actually exactly brushing his teeth, as the toothbrush hung from his mouth, likely forgotten as JD began to warm the cafetera on the stop top. It was also hard to keep a straight face when JD was wearing his red heart boxers, “Ay dios mio, John Dory! Put on your damn pants, no one wants to see your nearly naked ass walking around our camper! Por favor.” You pleaded, slips of giggles escaped your lips as you tried to calm your giggles by rubbing your face. But it was truly no use when you glanced back up at your husband. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and the widest smirk on his face. He looked a little goofy, seeing as his toothbrush was still hanging out of his mouth, but you could tell what his next words were. It was going to be a quip, a flirtatious one of that. It was one he usually used to end this pants conversation, knowing it got you flustered or flabbergasted or just plain over him enough to stop your pursuit. You loved JD so much, but whenever he says: “Aw come on babe, you know you love the sight,” You wanted to strangle him! “I would love the sight even more if my husband would put on his damn pants!” You shot back, not being able to contain your laughter as JD began to playfully wiggle his eyebrows at you. With a shake of your head, you covered your face in your hands and sunk down on the couch melodramatically. God this man is going to be the death of you and he knew it.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#john dory x reader #john dory headcanons #brozone x reader #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #trolls dreamworks #trolls #trolls fandom #brozone #john dory trolls #john dory

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neowinestainedress · 11 months

Note

hello! im not sure if your request is still open, but do you mind to write a drabble of jaemin slowly corrupting an innocent gf? it starts with casual back massage at first and she says that her breasts are sore before her menstrual period. as a good bf, of course he "helps" her and things escalating from there into heavy fuck and overstimulation

w!: corruption kink, dubcon + light manipulation (DON’T read if it makes you uncomfortable), nipple/boobs play, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected s*x, first time, overstimulation

a/n: jaemin and corruption kink is a concept i love but i don’t think i delivered it the best with this one. i hate drabbles okay? i have to keep things short and i suck at it, but i also wasn’t in the mood to write too much so i hope this is good anyway (if you want something else similar to this there’s drippin’, it’s not only with jaemin but it gets the corruption kink better, and nana is unhinged in that fic so...)

“That’s because your period is close, baby,” Jaemin coos while his hands keep rubbing on your bare back, he’s sitting on top of you, trying not to weigh much.

“How do you know?” You pout, cheek pressed against the sofa as you try to look back at him.

“I just know, babe,” he snickers, hands creeping lower on your back, brushing against your ass, making your body heat up.

“But they still hurt so much, they’re so sore,” you cry out, trying to fight the embarrassment of having him so close while you’re half naked. It’s not the first time Jaemin massages your back since you often suffer back pain, but, usually, you would let him rub your skin with your shirt on, this time, he insisted you would take it off, so he could use cream and warm your muscles more.

“I can help you with that.”

You freeze for a moment, mouth parting in surprise. “Really? You can? How? The pills never do anything for me.”

“Honey,” he chuckles, “not with pills. With these,” he says, shaking his hands in the air.

“Oh,” you breathe out, nervously pressing your lips in a thin line while you try to avoid his piercing gaze, gulping nervously as you think of the implications. “It will pass.”

“Babe, come on, it’s me,” he says, leaning on top of you, caging you under him, “at least turn around, it will only hurt more if you stay like this.”

“But — but you will see them,” you utter shyly.

“So? You’re my girlfriend.”

You think about it for a while, torturing your lower lip between your teeth, but when the pain gets too much, you give up. “Fine.”

“Don’t cover them.” Jaemin reaches your hands that are cupping your breast and pin them on top of your head. Your eyes go wild, and something you’ve never seen before sparks in your boyfriend’s eyes. “They’re so pretty, baby. It’s a shame it took you so long to show them to me.”

You don’t reply, feeling so small and with no idea of what to do, so you trust him, letting him do what he knows — surely better than you.

“They’re so soft, princess,” he hums while his hands gently fondle them, making your body go stiff at the first touch. “Hey, relax, it will feel good,” he whispers, flashing you a toothy smile that makes you forget for a second what’s going on.

“Why — why are my nipples hard?” You dare to question when you feel them erect, and then shyly look down to see them perk up.

“Because you feel good.”

“But I feel like they’re still sore and I feel like even my nipples hurt now.”

“Poor baby, you’re all sore today, aren’t you? You’re lucky you have me to make you feel better,” he pouts, kissing you.

You’re about to reply but the words leave your mouth — and brain — when your boyfriend’s lips wrap around one of your sensitive buds. Your lips move to call out his name but when he starts sucking on it, you go speechless again.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles when he moves to the other, hands still massaging your sore boobs, “I’m doing this for you, babe.”

You hum, head rolling back in a natural reaction when his thumb brushes over the sensitive nipple he doesn’t have in his mouth. “I feel weird.”

“You feel good,” Jaemin reassures you, “see? It’s working already.”

Your eyes snap open when you feel his fingers press between your legs as the other hand keeps taking care of your boobs.

“Does it hurt here, too, babe?”

“It doesn’t hurt, it feels — I don’t know how to explain, okay, maybe it hurts a little.”

“Poor you, falling apart today?” He jokes lightly, leaving a soft kiss in the hollow of your chest. “I really have to make you feel better, I guess.”

You’re focused on the new feeling of his fingers rubbing between your sensitive spot when you feel something against your leg that distracts you. “What’s pressing on my leg?”

“Do you want to see?”

“Uhm.”

“Oh, that, I —” you chuckle embarrassed when he gets rid of his pants and underwear, “I don’t think I’m supposed to be seeing that.”

“Why not? I’m your boyfriend,” he says, tilting his head to the side, “would it be equal if you showed me yours, too?”

“No, I don’t think we — we should be doing this,” you try to complain but it’s all in vain when his hands tug down your shorts and your panties, exposing you.

“Why? It’s natural, princess. It will feel good.”

“But it’s intimate,” you whisper, “and weird.”

He raises his brow. “Have you ever done it?”

You shake your head. “No, I mean, no, no I haven’t.”

“Then trust me. I made you feel better even before, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, fi-fine.”

When you give him the go, his fingers and lips are on you, touching you and kissing your skin until he reaches your core. Your first reaction is to close your legs, but Jaemin keeps them wide open and pushes his head between them with no hesitation.

You feel weird, it is too intimate, too dirty, but all your fears and doubts disappear when his mouth wraps around your pussy. You hold in a scream and look down in curiosity, drifting your gaze as soon as you meet his piercing eyes staring straight into you.

“Nana,” you cry out when his fingertips rub against your opening, smearing the spit and your wetness around.

“I have to get you ready for the big thing, babe. Don’t want you to hurt,” he says, pushing a finger inside your tight pussy, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Shh, it’s alright, relax, remember I’m here to take care of you, alright?”

So you focus on the sensation, feeling something build up inside of you when he adds another finger and starts moving them, curling them inside, occasionally making you squirm more, while his mouth keeps working on you.

“Weird,” you mumble when you feel like that strange sensation is about to blow up, but Jaemin doesn’t tell you much other than ‘let go to the feeling,’ so you listen another time, and before you realize, you come. It’s strong and something you never felt before, even weird, but you like it. “Wait, why are you — why are you not stopping?”

“I told you, I need you to be ready.”

“For wha—” your words die down when his other hand reaches for your chest, folding your boobs as he keeps going with his fingers and mouth, bringing you to the edge another time, faster than you expect.

“Does it hurt?” You ask when he starts stroking his hard dick and you can’t help but stare even if it feels dirty.

“So much, babe. I need you to take care of it for me.”

“I can help you? Do you want me to massage it?”

Jaemin chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, I have a better idea. Open your legs, honey.”

“How will this — oh,” you gasp when you feel the thick tip of his cock against your hole. “Will it hurt?”

“No, that’s why I made you come twice, and I’m going slow. I will never hurt you.” And he stays true to that, letting you get used to his size when he bottoms in, throwing his head back after watching your face twitch at the feeling. Only when he’s sure you’re okay, he starts moving, slow thrusts as he holds himself back, getting lost in the whimpers and moans you try so hard to muffle.

But that tender feeling lasts about after the first orgasm — the third for you. After that, you feel something pushing you forward, and you don’t know if it’s worst your eagerness to feel more or his pent-up greed for all those months he didn’t have you.

The second fuck it’s rough, messy, and needy, with your hands desperately looking for the other, and your innocent façade falling apart. It feels unnatural to hear you beg for more, to let out dirty words and curses, but Jaemin loves it so much that you’re falling apart in his hold.

Jaemin is still sweet somehow, reassuring you and praising you, whispering to your ears that you’re being such a good girl for taking him so well.

“Don’t stop,” you cry out when you both come another time, spurts of white filling you to the brim again. “Please.”

“So greedy. What happened to my pure angel? It’s not nice to hide part of you from your boyfriend,” he mocks but keeps fucking into you.

You don’t reply, too ashamed to even look into his eyes, but he harshly cups your chin and forces you to keep eye contact.

“Don’t act shy, there’s nothing wrong with it,” he smirks, kissing your pouty lips, “we all have dirty secrets.”

You’d argue yours is not a secret, but simply something you’ve never experienced before, but you have no strength left.

“Too much,” you whimper.

“Oh, no, princess, now you take what you asked for.”

Jaemin doesn’t stop, not even letting you breathe for a second, big dick fucking you deep and fast, making your body tremble and your head feel light, while his fingers move skilfully on your aching, throbbing clit, sending you over the edge more times than you can take.

And by the time he is done with you, you lost count of how many times you came, too tired to do anything else but stay in his arms and enjoy his soft kisses on your skin.

“Did so well, babe. Are you feeling better?”

You nod weakly, hiding in the crook of his neck, feeling conscious again. “Yeah.”

“See, I told you I would take care of you. You always have to trust me.”

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#anon answered #jaemin hard hours #jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream hard hours #nct hard hours #nct dream smut #nct smut

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pupkashi · 5 months

Text

do u guys think kakashi would flirt with you when he’s drunk, cheeks flushed and words slurred as he tries terrible pick up lines on you

“you believe in love at first sight?” he asks, “or should i walk by again?” the incessant giggles that leave his lips having you smiling and shaking your head.

“kashi we’ve been dating for two years,” you smile, watching as he pouts at your statement.

“cant you go along just once!” he whines, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head nuzzles into your neck, sighing a bit before his eyes flutter shut.

“okay okay,” you sigh, a smile still on your face as you continue, “I’ll go along with it this time, promise.”

his silver bangs cover his eyes slightly, hair messy from whatever competition he had been doing with guy earlier in the night. his eyes light up at your words, walking away from you, only to turn on his heel and walk right back up to you.

“do you have a band-aid? ‘cause i think i just fell for you,” he smiles, giddy as you flush slightly, a grin tugging at your lips as he stares back at you, eyes lingering on your lips a bit longer than usual.

“we’ll i wouldn’t want that scrape to get infected, maybe i should clean it up for you,” you purr, your hand finding it’s way to his t shirt collar as you tug him closer to you, “what do you say we go take care of that, hm?”

kakashi sputters out a half ‘yes’ and a half ‘please,’ cheeks burning and heart jumping out his chest as he watches you get on your tippy toes and place a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“how was that for playing along,” you tease, laughing as he stumbles back and clears his throat a bit.

“we should get home it’s late and i need to get home,” he stutters out, “home with you,” he mumbles, walking backwards and saying a chaste goodbye to his friends, before rushing back over to you and tugging you out of the bar.

“we’ll aren’t you in a rush to get home” you laugh, his arm is slung over your shoulders under the guise of ‘keeping you warm and close to him,’ but you know better.

you can tell from the stumble in his steps and the way he’s swaying with cold wind he’s much drunker than he was letting on in the bar. giggling at your every word, you’re not sure if the flush of his cheeks is the alcohol, the chilly breeze hitting them, or your shower of compliments.

kakashi doesn’t care how silly he looks, admiring how utterly beautiful you look as you help him up the stairs, how funny you are when you’re re-teaching him how to brush his teeth and helping him into bed after untangling him from his clothes.

the world is spinning when his head finally hits his pillow, sighing happily when he feels the bed dip under your weight, already scooting closer to you.

“can we cuddle?” he whispers, eyes closed as he whispers. he doesn’t see the softest smile on your lips or the shining look of love in your eyes as you stare at the silver haired jonin.

“‘course we can kashi,” you whisper back, pulling him close to you and holding him tightly, kissing his forehead before closing your eyes.

kakashi woke up extremely hungover the next day, head throbbing and sunshine way too bright for his liking.

“good morning lover boy,” you giggle, aspirin in hand alongside a cup of water, “made us some breakfast, hopefully it’ll help with the headache I’m sure you’ve got.”

kakashi doesn’t say much of anything, eyes still half closed as he takes the medicine from you, mumbling what you can only assume is a ‘thank you,’ before he’s laying back down, blanket over his head.

a/n: GODDDD I HAVENT WRITTEN FOR MY LOVER IN SO LONG I MISSED HIM !!! I YEARNED FOR HIM !!!!! he’s so my everything i love him i love him i love him <333

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haruchuiyo · 1 year

Text

sleepy kisses

some sleepy kisses with ran haitani

content: fluff, requited love and more fluff and kisses.

word count: 1.7k+

bonten!ran haitani, gn!reader

—

I wanna sleep.

You thought but tried to stay awake. Startling yourself awake when you feel how you were about to fall forward into the floor. Unbeknownst to you, a rather familiar tall guy with violet eyes watched you in amusement. His hands itches to help you up on a proper bed and let you sleep, but he just needs this little amusement going on a few seconds before he gets to help you.

You were startled awake once again when you feel arms wrap around your waist, you look up and even when half asleep, your heart flutters at the sight of the man you can’t stop thinking about. Ran grins at your half asleep state and you can’t help but grin back at him, mumbling out his name, which he found so cute he wants to keep you to himself.

“Wrap your arms around my neck, yeah?” He softly tells you which you nod at. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he lifts you up and then he pulls away one arm and places them below your thighs.

He is holding you bridal style, you hear a few chuckles behind you but pay no mind to it, cause you’re absolutely loving how comfortable it feels being held by him. You rub your face into his neck and Ran exhales quickly, cause you’re being undeniably cute. His heart flutters at the way you seem to subconsciously softly scratch at his nape.

This feels too natural.

But he loves it, he loves it so much he doesn’t want to let go of you.

He opens the door to his room, considering the small gathering is at his house. He approaches the bed and lays you down gently. You mumble something in your half asleep state, before you startle awake for the third time cause your arm was falling off the bed. You look up and see Ran looking at you with an amused face, he looks like he is holding back laughter and you huff softly which has him chuckling. He pulls at the cover from below you, and places it over you, tucking you in.

“Aren’t you gonna sleep?” Your voice is soft, Ran feels his heart pound harder against his chest. “Not now.” He softly answers, tucking away a strand of hair behind your ear. You hold onto his wrist as you nuzzle into his palm, letting out a content sigh of approval. His palm is warm against your cheek and soft, albeit little calloused which is equally fine.

“Why? Should I join you?” He asks, amusedly but also a little nervous of your reply. He do want to join you, holding you against his chest with his arms around you. You tucked against him as you both lay together on the bed.

You pull away from his palm to hide a little under the cover. You softly inhale and recognize the familiar scent of Ran. You take in the scent more. Which didn’t go unrecognised by the man of the scent himself. Ran wants to hold your pretty face and give you a kiss that will have you want more. And when he sees you slightly nod, he loses all his grip he had and lets out an exhale. And smiles at you.

He takes off his suit jacket, pulls on his tie to take it off. When he sees you pull away a little on the bed to make space, he sits on the bed, his heart pounding and pounding as he unbuttons his cuff sleeves and joins you on the bed.

Feeling like he should just go for it, since you’re already sharing the bed with him, he pulls his arm under you and pulls you in. You let out a slight gasp but regain your composure. You place your hands on his chest, slightly fisting his shirt.

And when he pulls you in closer, your heart can’t stop beating faster than it already does. You look up and see his cheeks tinted with a slight reddish color, all while looking at you.

“You look cute, you know?” He says which has you giggling, which makes him grin down at you. “You don’t look bad yourself.” You retort back softly, still feeling sleepy.

“Yeah?” He asks and you nod your head. He leans down closer to your face, planting his forehead against your own as he gently holds your face. He nuzzles his nose against yours, you feel his hold on you get tighter, which you do not complain at. You like this. Being in his arms, being held by the man that has your heart in his heart, which he doesn’t know.

But little did you know, that you already have his heart and all he wants to do right now, is give you a kiss. To feel your lips on top of his.

He stops nuzzling against you, before he leans in closer and his lips brushes against your own. You smile, which has him smiling too and he finally presses his lips on top of yours. It’s like time stopped completely the moment your lips touched his. The heart beats pounding even more against your chest and the flutter intensifying. Ran feels his heart flutter and he could only focus on the way your lips move against his own. How soft your lips feel against his mouth. And how all his senses are being invaded by you.

You fist his shirt even tighter and he uses his one hand to gently hold onto your face. This feels like a dream and you trace your hands up to his neck and gently squeeze his neck, as a way to tell yourself this is not a dream. You feel Ran smile against your mouth and you trace your hands further up his neck to gently tug on his hair, as a way to tell him to stop teasing you. He chuckles against your mouth and softly nips on your lower lip which has a soft gasp leave your pretty lips and Ran kisses the corner of your lips before he goes back to kiss you again.

The kiss is slow, chaste and soft. It’s like he is invading you completely, losing yourself to his soft mouth, kisses and his comfortable embrace. His grip on your face tightens ever so slightly, he presses his tongue into your mouth. Being attentive, Ran restrains himself. Wanting to know if you’re just as affected by him like he is by you.

The sensation feels overwhelming when you wrap your arms around his neck, he can’t stop the happy yet depraved moan that leaves his lips. Pulling and tugging him closer him, he trace both his hands down to hold onto your waist, pulling and tugging you in as well. He is not disappointed when he hears the soft whimper you let out when his hands goes below your shirt, his palms meeting your bare skin. Then he smoothly changes your position, so you were laid upon him, hovering as he was laid beneath you. You pull away to get some air.

Ran’s hair is tousled on the pillow beneath his head, his lips are red and cheeks flushed. He is panting as he looks at you with a glint to his eyes. You let out a short gasp when you feel him press you against him by gripping onto your waist. You hold onto his face and lean down to him, immediately his lips searches for yours and you place your lips on top of his.

His hair feels soft and silky in your grasp, you tug on it a little bit more making him lowly grunt against your mouth. Your lips feels smooth and soft against his own, perfect and sweet. He takes a glimpse of you mid kiss, to make sure you and this irresistible kiss isn’t a product of his imagination.

That has him kissing you harder, which has you letting out a needy whine into his mouth. He pulls you in closer, never getting enough of you and you tug on his hair more and more while his grip on your waist gets tighter.

He gently bites down on your lower lip, which has you humming in pleasure. “I thought you were sleepy.” He mumbles against your lips. You slightly shake your head. “Not anymore.” You mumble back. You whine while inching after his lips when he slightly pulls away, to pepper chaste kisses up your ear to your jaw to your neck, nipping on your pulse point.

You tug his face away from your neck and kiss him. He chuckles against your lips, loving how you’re equally desperate for him as he is for you. He is so glad he is alone with you right now, on top of him under his grip and kissing you. He couldn’t ask for anything better than you.

Ran lets himself get subdued in your kisses, you’re more vocal in showing your desperation for him, needy and desperate. Ran’s lips moves against yours in equal fervour, his sensations overwhelmed by you, the scent of you hypnotic beyond imagination. He sees your desperation slowly unravel, before you pull away panting. You giggle when he goes inching after more of your kisses. His lips brush against yours softly, as you feel his hands gently rub on your waist.

Both of you panting, needing oxygen as you look at each other before he nuzzles his nose against yours. This gesture feels so intimate, your heart almost feel like it’s skipping.

“I feel sleepy now.” You say breathlessly, making Ran grin at you. “Really, now?” He asks amused as you nod your head, smiling widely at him. He chuckles and hugs you closer to him. You bury your face his neck as he now lays you both sideways. He has his chin on the top of your head.

“Then I tuck you in.” He simply says, but his voice has a serious tone it which makes you giggle against his neck. “We are already tucked in, Ran.” You sigh, letting yourself melt into his embrace.

“I can still tuck you in, doll.” He softly says, kissing the top of your head. You hum in content, feeling drowsy. His soft stroking on your skin and his heartbeat against your cheek, has you feeling drowsier. You hear Ran mumble a soft ‘sleep well, baby’ before you fall asleep, content and safe in his arms.

—

If you’ve come this far, a reblog, feedbacks and likes would be soooo much appreciated :3

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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months

Note

LAST ONE I PROMISE IM SO SORRY

soft!jason with reader who hides her nightmares from him (classic 'doesnt wanna be a burden') and he finds out she hasn't been sleeping and just comfort and sappy shit idk

Hope you don’t mind but ima combine this with another idea in my head before it rots. My details aren’t good right now, it’s been a very long day 😅

—

Time written - 6:47 p.m

—

“I remember a bad habit I had when I was little to check the coin slots for any quarters left behind.”

“Bad habit? I did that all the time.” Jason tosses a final shirt into the washing machine. “Still do.”

You giggle as you slam the washer door shut before cranking the knob and clicking the button, watching the machine whirr to life.

The apartment’s little downstairs laundromat always promised new washers and dryers, but efforts in doing so were lost under a list of other repairs. At least the machines still did their job, so that’s all you could do.

“Last load, right?” Jason double checks whilst shoving his hands into his pockets, leaning against the nearest little surface reserved for folding laundry.

Pushing by your clothes hamper to the side, you nod as you sit yourself in a chair beside the dryers.

“Finally,” you say whilst peeking over at the timer. At least three minutes left before you’d be greeted with heavenly warm sheets.

The warmth of the machines heavily combatted the cold chill outside. The heat in comparison with Jason’s hoodie covering your body left you feeling quite cozy, resulting in a yawn leaving your tired body.

“That’s about five times in the past half hour, someone miss their nap time?” Jason piques, gazing over at you with softened eyes.

You would’ve laughed if not for the second yawn that left your lips again.

“M’fine,” you muffle out after crossing your arms, forcing yourself to relax. Again, the constant rocking of both machines tumbling your clothes and blankets, plus the warmth radiating into the enclosed space nearly had you lulled to sleep in seconds.

Jason find the view absolutely adorable, heavily contemplating on taking the short stride to the seat beside you to let you rest on his shoulder. Only about a minute remained on the machine when he took the chance to approach, watching your tired head slowly tilt, nearly falling back against the wall if he didn’t quickly lurch over to catch it.

Cradling your pretty face in his palm, his eyes slightly narrowed when he picked up a unique detail on your face. Your eyes nearly widened when you blacked out for a second, coming to a sight of a concerned Jason holding your cheek.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you quickly nod, blinking the exhaustion from your eyes. “Yeah. I’m okay, just didn’t sleep good.”

“Uhuh,” his response came too low for your ears to pick up. The dryer emits a sharp beep, signaling your blankets were finally ready.

As good as it felt to be sitting in such an uncomfortable plastic chair, you managed to pull yourself to your feet and towards the dryer, followed by a man who refused to remove his concerned expression off his face.

“What sounds good for dinner tonight?” Jason asks you after you pulled out tangled blankets from the dryer, nearly hugging them to yourself before plopping them onto the counter space to be separated and folded.

“Don’t know. What sounds good to you?”

“Was thinking maybe pizza,” Jason replied whilst approaching you from behind, picking up how sluggish your hands were as they rummaged through the soft pile in search of blanket edges or corners.

“Or… wings, maybe?”

“Hm?” Your head faintly tilts, rising suspicion. He stands beside you, seeing your heavy lidded eyes nearly lose focus on your task.

“Actually, was thhinking of going for some grass instead of chicken,” Jason purposely states, keeping an eye on your exhausted expression. “Grass and weeds, dandelions too.”

“Mm.” Came your response.

“Right,” he tries again. “Or if grass doesn’t hit the spot, we can just eat park dirt with our bare hands. Catch up on our minerals, y’know?”

“Mhm.”

“Babe.” He states with a firm tone. “C’mon. Babe.”

“Hm?” Your head snaps upwards towards him. “Huh? I’m listening.”

“Uhuh.” He quirks a brow before reaching over, pulling the warm fabric out of your hands.

“Babe, for how long?”

“Huh?” You shake your head, trying to remember the topic. “I don’t know. Kinda not hungry for chicken—“

“Not that,” Jason shakes his head. “How long have you not been sleeping good?”

Your lack of answer concerns him a lot more than it should’ve.

“Baby.” Jason grabs said warm, fuzzy blanket fresh off the counter and pulls the cover over your shoulders, draping you in complete warmth.”

“Talk to me.” He expresses with the upmost care, turning your body to face him. “I won’t get mad. Promise.”

You hesitate regardless. A lump in your throat nearly prevents you from doing so, and it worries you. What would he say to something like this? To see you haven’t slept that much due to a few simple bad dreams?

He’d see it ridiculous. A huge part of you believed that to be the case.

“Nightmares?” Jason tries to guess. “Is that it? Insomnia? Something not letting you sleep?”

He hit the nail on the head the first time. You could’ve said yes, could’ve vocally agreed, but all you could do was give a weak nod.

“Why haven’t you told me, hm?” Jason wisps bits of hair from your face, peering down at you with a soft, concerned expression.

When could you tell him? He’s always out on patrols. When he’s out, you’re struggling to sleep. When he comes home, he sleeps during the day, leaving you on your own until the afternoon or so. It’s always such a blessing when he comes home, sleeping by your side.

Sleep should’ve came so easily when he was home safe and sound, but all your mind focused on was the possibility that one day he may not.

It felt so odd to complain to him about sleep when his sleep schedule varied a lot more than the average man. He fought crime for a living, all you did was work or be home. How could complaining to him make any sort of sense?

“It’s just nightmares,” you weakly insist, the concern of making him upset driving your heart fast enough to keep you awake. The warm blanket was too much, lulling you into a comforting serenity your body fought against.

“D’you take meds for this?” He questions, watching you shake your head no. “Sleeping pills, anything like that?”

“I mean, I’ve thought of it, but-“

“Don’t.”

His one word demand catches you off guard, making your eyes widen. “Why not?”

“Don’t need you relying on pills to get some shut eye,” Jason murmurs, exhaling through his nose before lowering his head, resting it along yours. “That’s worse than staying awake.”

He didn’t scoff, he didn’t huff and dismiss your confession, but his response regardless made you regret telling him any of this in general. You knew that look on his face; the worried wrinkle that formed in between his brows when he was too worried about something. Someone.

“Don’t say it’s not my fault. M’Sorry you couldn’t tell me before.”

Your heart lightly aches at this, especially when he stopped your words prior. He blamed himself in some way, and you really didn’t like that.

His eyes never left your face, solemnly gleaming down at your beautiful expression. The attention to the tired shadows under your eyes, your limited energy, practically dragging your feet down every step of the way just to spend all the time you could with him.

It beats the purpose to protect Gotham when he couldn’t protect the ones he loved first. How he was going to handle your subconscious, he hadn’t a clue. Only an idea.

“Jay.”

“Shhh.” He soothes, his mind processing some thoughts you wish you could stop.

“I want you to go back upstairs,” he speaks after some silence. “I’ll sort our stuff out down here. Take a hot shower, fix yourself a drink, and get to bed. I’ll be up there in a bit.”

“But—“

“Ah ah,” he chides, hiding that hint of a smile on the edge of his lip. “Don’t wanna hear it. I’ll stay tonight, and tomorrow night, an’ the night after that.”

“And Gotham?”

Gotham always ran fucking crazy with something nearly every night, but hey, theirs other cape wearing heroes waltzing around.

“What’s one night?” He shrugs. “Don’t gotta carry you to the elevator, do I?”

“I’d prefer that,” you manage to smile. “You wrapped me in a death trap. I won’t make it to the elevator.”

Jason sighs, this time with a smile on his face. Without a word, he hoists you up in his arms, your body wrapped up in a heated, fragrant blanket as he sets you back in your chair from before.

“My little cleopatra,” he comments, in reference to your entire body wrapped up in a blanket, minus your head. “Once we’re done here, we’ll take a long nap. I’ll stay with you as long as you want.”

The official, yet unspoken promise left your heart aching. Of course he’d do such a soothing gesture for you.

“You can’t carry both me and the laundry,” your tired voice says to him, making his smirk grow as he tends to folding your blankets once more.

“Oh yeah? Watch me.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x #jason todd dc

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elsfairy · 1 year

Text

✧ ˚. SOFT RIDGES ⎯ ABBY ANDERSON

꒰ ♡ ꒱ sub!abby who is so messy when she eats you out. your slick and her spit running down her chin, calloused hands gripping tightly onto your hips, not giving you any chance to move away. mouth practically glued to you, shamelessly making out with your cunt. moaning and whimpering when you tug on her braid. “Baby, slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ sub!abby whose brain short circuits and shuts down at the mention of her being your good girl. always wants to be your good girl. whether it be when she’s taking your strap, or when you’re eating her out. if you say it when she’s so blissed out, panting under you, then she’s an even bigger mess. sobbing into the pillow, & babbling in agreement. “I know, baby. you’re doing so good, my good girl”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ sub!abby who has a habit of sitting in your lap, face shoved in your neck and her voice quiet. barely a whisper, pleading and begging for you to touch her, kiss her. when she begs, she becomes red & flustered, whinier than usual but she sounds so pretty & needy. especially with how dirty words fall from her lips, and they sound so innocent. if she’s too shy, she’ll just sit on your lap, watching you. “gotta tell me what you want, or i can’t give it to you pretty girl. use your words”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ sub!abby who loves nothing more than waking up to your fingers buried in her cunt, lips leaving sweet kisses over her shoulder, and just hearing those pretty little sounds that escape from between her own lips. hearing the way she pants quietly, whining into your neck, whimpering against your mouth. if there was something else she loved a lot more though, it would be having your fingers in her mouth at the same time, fucking her throat. the sound of her moans, and whines filling the room. “you’re so greedy aren’t you, pretty? having my fingers in your cunt isn’t enough is it? need them in your bratty mouth too? dirty girl.”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ sub!abby who gets so needy when you don’t give her any attention, that she takes matters into her own hands, forcing you to sit there, and watch her. forces you to watch her fuck herself on her fingers, forces you to watch the way they move in her sopping cunt. she's so wet, can always hear just how wet she becomes when you're watching. and you can't do anything, just have to sit there, listening to every whine, whimper, moan, and plea that fall from her lips. have to watch the way her thighs tremble, the way the sheer sheet of sweat covers her body. “If only you could see how beautiful you look right now, fucking yourself all because i didn’t give you attention. needed me that bad huh?”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ sub!abby who loves the way you take care of her. always making sure she’s eating regularly, and drinking enough water. adores watching you prepare your shared dinner. of course, though, those innocent thoughts are out the window and the neediness is around the corner the longer she watches you, silently. tugging on the sleeve of your shirt, hugging you from behind, whining quietly into your shoulder. she craved your attention more than anyone else. she needed yours the most. she needed you. she needed your attention so much that she didn’t mind when she ended up bent over the table, and your fingers knuckle deep in her cunt, moving at such a fast but gentle pace. gasping and whimpering into her arms that were folded in front of her on the dark oak wood “you’re doing so well, you look so pretty like this. so messy but so beautiful Abs”

꒰ ♡ ꒱ sub!abby who loves you. loves how you help her wash her hair when she’s too tired to do it herself. loves when you cook her food after a long day and she can’t be bothered to stand there and cook. adores when you braid her hair for her, gently and with so much love & attention. she loves when you let her curl up in your lap, slowly & soothingly rubbing her back when she’s tired. loves when you hold her hand during the night. whispering quietly into her ear when she’s half awake. melts when you play with her hair, twirling strands around your fingers. just loves when you take care of her, and keep her safe. “I love you, pretty girl.”

#my mothers day gift to yall <3 #not sorry for using that gif either <3 #abby anderson smut #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby anderson x you

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mikanotes · 7 months

Text

way home

xiao x gn!reader | 2.2k words

genre: established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive

warnings: alcohol usage, kissing, reader is a bit drunk, reader is very affectionate, xiao is so in love help him, suggestive content (sorta!) takes place during the current event.

synopsis: xiao takes care of you and continuously prays to the archons to help him.

author's note: thanks to my best friend for the idea

Wangshu Inn has never seemed so tall.

You stare up at the intricate structure of the building and begin to think you’d be better off starting architecture studies by analyzing every detail around it than actually trying to get all the way up. Granted, there is an elevator, but you walked all the way from the Stone Gate to here, and you already feel like your legs will give out on you any time now.

So the very short walk to the elevator feels like it will seriously kill you, right now, and you swear it’s not the alcohol making it sound so dramatic. (It is.)

“You know drinking this much isn’t good?”

Before you can turn around, Xiao's arm is circling around your shoulders to support you and his free hand comes to hold your wrist, gently. “Let’s go.”

You don’t get time to actually reply before Xiao is teleporting you both to his room at the Inn. The Adeptus had considered simply going to the top balcony as he usually always did, but decided the height might do nothing good to your current state— If he was to judge by how wobbly your legs were as you walked up to the Inn.

Because he’d been watching, obviously.

He’d waited for you to call, sure, but eventually you seemed way too out-of-it for him to just stand by and no nothing but wait to hear his name on your lips.

“Xiao…”

And there it is.

He turns his face to look at you and, from so close, he can see the small details lost to the distance when he was watching earlier. Your eyes are half-lidded, lips a bit colored by the wine you’ve clearly been drinking. He brings a careful and hesitant hand up to your cheek and slowly presses against it, breathing out a bit shakily. It’s warm. Is that the alcohol? Or are you blushing?

“Xiao, you know…” you speak, and your words aren’t exactly slurred together but just enough to tell you’re not entirely sober. You bring a hand up to his shoulder, staring into his eyes with a look he’s struggling to find the words to describe— Though it’s painfully obvious.

He doesn’t want to think about it.

It’s a look of want.

“I missed you so much,” you sob, ever-so-dramatic. Your hand slides down his collarbone and your thumb runs back and forth against the fabric of his shirt. He has to take a breath. Your free hand moves to his face, not quite touching yet, just moving strands of his hair away with the tips of your fingers. “Ah… So pretty…”

Xiao is definitely going to die.

Your fingers move down to trace against the side of his face and his eyes flutter close for a moment, his own hand falling from your face and finding something to hold onto. He grasps at your shoulder, or the clothing covering it, his grip as weak as the rest of him.

You make him feel so weak. He can’t bring himself to hate it, not even close. Not when it feels so surprisingly good.

“You should sleep.” he says, except his words come out much less firm than he’s intended them to, and much more breathy and compliant. He sighs softly, eyes closing again as he shakes his head, before finding any resolve he has in his heart and holding onto it for dear life. When he looks back at you, he has this strict look in his eyes. “Okay?” he questions, tone resolute but soft.

You pout a little bit, both hands moving to cling to the top of his clothing, now. Xiao takes a deep, trembling breath as he looks at you. Archons I beg of you, save me right now.

“I’m not tired.” you sigh, almost sounding frustrated.

“The speed at which you got here begs to differ. Your legs are wobbly, surely you realized that much?“ he speaks quietly, raising his eyebrows. You scoff, and it’s a far cry from your usual annoyed scoffs. No, this is just… Cute. Xiao doesn’t realize he’s smiling before he finds you glaring at him. “What?” he deadpans, or tries to, because there’s a small hint of amusement betraying his tone. His gaze is fond as it meets your displeased one.

“You were watching me?” you say, pushing an accusatory finger into his chest. He gives you a look that says ‘Seriously?’ (you know he always does) but you do not relent. “Could’ve at least picked me up, then!”

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate being seen as weak enough to be carried all the way to your destination.”

“And you would be right!”

Xiao laughs just a little. “Then?”

You blink. “Um.” you look away, faltering. “I don’t know.”

“Mhm. You should sleep, see? You’re barely making any sense.” he says, holding your arm and squeezing it lightly. “Come on. I’ll lend you my bed.”

You groan in annoyance, head tilting back, before you reluctantly make your way over to the Yaksha’s bed. You plop down on the mattress, taking off your shoes slowly. Then your eyes widen as a thought crosses your mind, and you look up at him again.

“You claim an Adeptus doesn’t need sleep.”

Xiao is pouring water into a cup when he turns to look at you. His eyes narrow, trying to find where you could possibly be going with this. After all, this isn’t anything new. You and Xiao have known each other for a long time now. “That’s right.” he affirms, gaze moving back to the cup as he sets down the pitcher. “Why?”

You hold the edge of the bed and lean forward a little, and though the distance between the two of you is long, Xiao feels like stumbling back.

“Because you say you’re lending me your bed,” you start, looking away in ‘thought’, “Then you say you don’t sleep, so you’re not using it, right?”

Xiao blinks, looking to the floor further away, then back up at you. “… Right.”

“Then make use of it.” you say casually, tilting your head to the side. “Come on. Sleep with me.”

“I will not.” Xiao immediately says, eyes widening a little. Face reddening a little. What is with you, tonight?! He’ll have to make sure you never go near any alcohol ever again. He sighs and walks over to you, “Go to sleep. You’re doing too much thinking for someone this inebriated. And it’s clearly not doing anyone any good.” he speaks quietly, handing you the glass of water.

You take his hand and tug a little. “Come on.” you complain, looking up at him. “Xiao…”

Saying his name like that is just unfair.

He looks away. “Drink already.”

“What is this? The Conqueror of Demons is intimidated by his drunk friend’s invitation to sleep?” you tease, a small grin on your lips. You take the glass, finally. “That’s cute.”

Now he’s glaring. “Is that right.” he scoffs, watching you drink the water.

No. He shakes his head. You’re definitely trying to get under his skin. The worst part is that it worked, even if for just a few seconds. You hum, satisfied as you set the glass on the bedside table. Then you wrap your arms around his waist and put your chin on his stomach, looking up at him. He doesn’t move, except for his hand, which finds your face out of habit. “What now?” he sighs, and it would sound annoyed if it wasn’t for the love in his eyes.

You just smile, eyelids drooping and face tilting into his hand. “Mm… I wanna sleep next to you.” you say, almost too quiet to be heard. This time, Xiao sees the effects of your drunken shenanigans hitting your system in full force, and you clearly look a second away from falling asleep.

He smiles softly to himself. “Alright.” he says, caressing your cheek. “Then lay down.”

You huff and let go of him to roll over on the bed, sighing in satisfaction. You look like you could just melt into the mattress, with that comfortable air on your face. Xiao sits down and slowly moves to lay down at your side, moving a little to make sure you have enough space for yourself.

Except you don’t seem to be much for space, tonight.

You move so you’re half-hovering him, really just one arm over his chest and your face close to his. Xiao’s eyes widen at how sudden your movement is before relaxing. He wishes he’d read more books with flowery words. None that he can think of seems to be enough to describe how beautiful you look. He hums, tone inquisitive as he stares up at you, a finger moving against your cheek gently. “What were you doing to get so drunk?” he asks, voice a whisper.

You purse your lips in thought, before sighing. “The poetry event hosted by Liyue and Mondstadt. Venti was there and he somehow got me to drink with him…” you trail off with a sigh, “This feels like a set-up.”

Xiao’s brows furrow in confusion. “How so?”

“Because, it’s like he knows how I get when I’m drunk… I spent the whole time complaining about wanting to see you, and all he did was laugh.”

His eyes widen the more you speak. The idea of you talking about him to others, about missing him— It makes his heart flutter. He bites the inside of his lip, cheeks a bit warmer than before. “And you think he invited you to drink just so you could get like… this?” he asks hesitantly, to which you vigorously shake your head.

“No, he just wanted someone to drink with and be able to make fun of.” you grumble, “It’s all in good fun, I have plenty of things to mock him about during the times he gets too tipsy, too.”

Xiao raises his eyebrows, following your words idly. He is listening, really, he is. But the feeling in his chest is not going away and it’s clouding his mind. “You must’ve wanted to drink, too, then?” he says quietly, “I know you wouldn’t do it just to keep him company.”

“Mhm.” you hum, and it sounds so sleepy he thinks you might fall limp on his chest the second that follows.

But no, instead, your face dips down into his neck and before he can say a thing he feels your mouth on his skin and his eyes are drifting close. It does not matter how many times he’s had the privilege to feel the touch of your lips on him. It doesn’t matter, because each and every single time, his heart stutters so much he feels like he might be dying— All whilst making all of his limbs relax so much they feel like jelly.

His lips part to exhale, head tilting back ever so slightly. The kisses you press to his neck are incredibly soft and somehow manage to make his skin burn with all that it makes him feel.

“What happened to sleeping?” he says, voice much too quiet and breathy to hide the effect you have on him. His hand moves to your back, tracing circles like he’s trying to calm himself more than you. “I don’t— Archons, I… I don’t recall this being sleeping.”

He doesn’t sound nervous, and he isn’t. He’s tripping over his words because you’re making his mind foggy. How is he expected to think when your lips are on the pulse point at his neck? No way.

You bite, lightly, and he makes a strangled noise.

It feels good.

“Are you complaining?” you ask. Your voice is a breathy whisper against the skin of his throat that makes shivers go down his spine. Xiao’s other hand is as tight as it can manage against the sheets covering his bed. He cannot tell if he’s more tense than ever or incredibly at ease. It’s always something in between, when it comes to this.

He looks down at you. “Not complaining.” he sighs softly, blinking, “You’re just a bit too affectionate when you’re drunk.” he breathes, eyes closing for a moment. He doesn’t think the Archons are on his side when it comes to answering prayers tonight, and he will have to rely on himself alone to not melt into a pathetic puddle of embarrassment at every single thing that you do.

“Am I?” you hum, moving up to face him. Your faces are close but he knows neither of you will make a move. Not now. Not in these circumstances. You just smile before chuckling and leaning down to lay your head on his chest. “Sorry.” you say quietly.

Xiao smiles softly, eyes drifting close again. He brings his hand to your head and rests it there. “It’s okay.” he whispers. Then he decides this isn’t enough, so he finds one of your hands atop his chest and intertwines his free one with yours.

He likes you when you’re affectionate. He loves it, even.

He likes you either way.

“Thank you.” you say, tilting your head so it lays on its side. Your gaze is set on nothing really and it’s clear you’re getting tired. “I mean it. For dealing with me.”

Xiao almost scoffs. You say it like it’s a chore. He’ll never mind taking care of you. He thinks it’s odd you would even think otherwise. Humans are odd. “You’re not that bad.” he replies, a tinge of laughter in his voice, “Don’t worry about it.”

The sound of wind chimes outside the window and the breeze over the leaves of the nearby trees seem to lull you to sleep, or maybe the sound of Xiao’s heartbeat does. He stays awake, eyes flitting towards the window every now and then.

He breathes out softly and turns to you, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep well. I’ll watch over you.”

#genshin impact x reader #xiao genshin x reader #xiao x reader #x reader #genshin x reader

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allyallyorange · 4 months

Text

Back at it with Ateez AT AU

Hongjoong in a band + meeting Seonghwa

Read what @nnnnnnnothingtoseehere wrote cus its fun

Hongjoong blames the enormous box of posters in his hands. It’s big enough to entirely block his view of his own feet, and he can’t even see the raised section of the pavement until it’s too late.

He hits the ground hard, posters spilling out of the box and rolling away. His hands took most of the fall, which is better than his face.

He sits up slowly, hissing at the sight of his own scuffed up palms. He’s thankful it’s just his palms; he definitely needs his fingers for tonight.

His palms will have to wait; he has multiple posters suddenly making a break for freedom.

As Hongjoong staggers to his feet, he has a brief moment of thankfulness for the fact that the venue they’re performing at is located on a quieter street. There aren’t many pedestrians around, meaning less people to potentially step on the posters.

He still breaks into a jog to try and catch some of them before they roll into the street. Not too fast though; rock stars don’t run.

He has to bend down to gather up the posters, and soon has an armful. He is straightening up to bring them back to the box when he realizes there’s someone helping him.

Hongjoong can’t see much of the stranger at the moment, white hair falling into his face as he scoops up several posters. He’s wearing an oversized black and white striped shirt, the demon notices absently, and has a tote bag slung over one shoulder that threatens to fall off as he reaches for another poster.

The stranger stands up fully, allowing Hongjoong to actually get a look at him.

He’s clearly human; Hongjoong could tell that just from his skin tone. Besides that, the demon can only make vague guesses about his age. He seems young-ish, but Hongjoong honestly has no idea. Besides that, he has incredibly round eyes, and an awkward smile.

“Do you have somewhere to put these?” the stranger asks, lifting his armful of posters slightly.

“Uh, yeah,” Hongjoong answers.

He immediately turns on his heel, heading back to the box that he left on the ground beside the merch stand. He drops his bunch of posters into the box, suddenly very self conscious about everything he is doing.

The stranger has followed him, and proceeds to kneel down beside the box to put his armful of posters away, making sure they’re neatly in place.

Hongjoong stands there watching him for a second before he realizes he’s being weird. He heads back out to gather up the last few posters, returning to hand them to the very detail-oriented stranger.

“There we go,” he finally says once the last roll is put away. “All done.”

He stands up then, and Hongjoong realizes very quickly that he is several inches taller than him, despite his boots. He knew he should have gone with the three-inch heel.

“I’m Seonghwa, by the way,” the stranger says with another smile.

He sticks his hand out, and Hongjoong tries to take it in a cool and nonchalant manner.

“I’m Hongjoong,” Hongjoong answers.

“Nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says easily. “I like your outfit.”

Hongjoong can’t resist grinning at the compliment. He likes his outfit too, and may be wearing it hours before he needs to because he likes it that much.

“Thanks,” he replies. “I like your hair.”

Seonghwa laughs slightly at that and thanks him, reaching up to comb his hair back with one hand.

“So, what is all the paper for?” he asks, gesturing to the box on the ground between them.

“They’re posters,” Hongjoong tells him. “I’m setting up the merch stand.”

He steps slightly to the side so Seonghwa can see the table and booth behind him, already half-covered in t-shirts.

“Oh,” Seonghwa says, eyes widening. “The Demon Prince? Is that the name of a show?”

“A band,” Hongjoong corrects. “My band, actually.”

“Really?” Seonghwa’s whole face lights up in excitement. “You’re the front man?”

Hongjoong nods proudly, maybe sticking out his chest a little more.

“What kind of music do you play?” Seonghwa asks, tilting his head as he waits for Hongjoong’s answer.

“Rock,” Hongjoong answers easily. “Sometimes I switch it up a little, but I’m keeping in a more hardcore punk vein right now.”

Seonghwa makes suitably impressed noises, and Hongjoong congratulates himself mentally for doing so well at this. This is easy!

“Rock can be a really nebulous term,” he continues. “I don’t really care for some of the more laid back stuff that people call ‘rock’. Things like that misrepresent the genre and are just bad press in a lot of ways.”

Hongjoong can feel himself loosening up as he talks; he knows about this kind of stuff and is very comfortable talking about it. He widens his stance slightly, leaning against the booth wall behind him and incorporating a few hand gestures.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” Seonghwa interjects after a few moments. “But you hurt your hands.”

Hongjoong had honestly forgotten about his scraped-up palms. He flips his hands over, noting the way some of the deeper scratches are now oozing blood.

“Oh yeah,” he says casually. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” Seonghwa tells him. He has stepped closer, and now reaches out to take one of Hongjoong’s hands, his touch gentle.

The demon immediately freezes, incredibly aware of how small his hands look next to Seonghwa’s much bigger ones.

“You should really wash them off,” Seonghwa is saying, bending over slightly to get a better look. “You don’t want anything to get infected.”

“Yeah, I was planning on it,” Hongjoong answers. “There’s a sink inside and stuff.”

He may have seen one briefly. He honestly isn’t sure.

For a split second he’s sure Seonghwa is going to haul him to the possibly-imaginary sink right then and there. The human doesn’t, instead letting go of Hongjoong’s hand to dig in his tote bag briefly.

“I thought I had some,” he mutters, pulling the bag halfway off his shoulder to look inside better. “Oh, here they are!”

He triumphantly holds up a small plastic container decorated with cartoon animals. Hongjoong blinks at it for a second.

“What is it?” he asks flatly.

“They’re bandaids,” Seonghwa tells him, opening the container. “You’re going to need something if you have to play tonight.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong says. “I guess you’re right.”

Seonghwa gives him another smile, as well as a small handful of bandaids.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong tells him, slipping them into his pocket.

“Of course,” Seonghwa replies. “I’m glad I carry them.”

Hongjoong watches as he puts the container back in his bag, then adjusts the strap so it hangs comfortably again.

“Hey,” Hongjoong says abruptly, getting Seonghwa’s attention again. “Do you want to come to the show?”

“Me?” Seonghwa asks, blinking a few times.

“Yeah,” Hongjoong says. He doesn’t know who else the human thinks he could be talking to. “It starts at 8 tonight, right here.”

He pauses for a second.

“Well, not right here,” he quickly amends. “But at this venue.”

“I knew what you meant,” Seonghwa assures him. “And while I would love to, I can’t. I have a kid at home, and he doesn’t like crowds at all.”

Hongjoong nods slowly, thinking quickly over everything he knows about human children. It’s really not much, but he does know it’s probably not a good idea to leave babies alone at home for a long time.

“That’s cool,” he replies, hoping this comes across as a nonchalant and normal response.

Seonghwa clearly takes this to mean that Hongjoong thinks children as a whole are cool and that he definitely wants to hear more about them, his whole expression immediately brightening.

“He’s a really sweet kid,” the human says, digging in his bag again. “Here’s a picture of him when he was little.”

He holds out a small, well-loved picture, the edges tattered and almost soft. Hongjoong leans forward slightly, squinting at the miniature human who is in turn squinting at the camera in the picture. The demon can’t really make out much of their face, but he supposes they’re rather cute.

“Nice,” he says vaguely, leaning back.

“He’s a lot bigger now,” Seonghwa says, flipping the picture back around to look at it for a moment. “I think I have another picture somewhere-”

“I’m good,” Hongjoong hurriedly says. “I don’t really like kids.”

“Ahh,” Seonghwa replies, carefully putting the picture back in his bag.

The conversation kind of dies there, with the two of them just awkwardly looking at each other, the box of posters, then each other again.

“Do you want a poster?” Hongjoong finally says, desperate to break the silence somehow. “Since you can’t come and did help me pick all of them up.”

“Oh,” Seonghwa says, looking down at the rolled up posters. “I didn’t realize they were posters.”

Hongjoong laughs awkwardly at that, bending down to pick one up quickly.

“Here,” he says roughly.

Seonghwa takes it with a smile, thanking Hongjoong.

“I’ll have to hang it up,” he says. “It’s not every day I meet a real rockstar.”

Hongjoong does his best to push down the immediate rush of glee that comes from the human’s words. He should definitely be totally normal about being called a rockstar; he is one, after all.

“Hah, yeah,” he answers. “And I bet you don’t give other rockstars bandaids either.”

Seonghwa laughs, but the demon is immediately kicking himself mentally for saying something so dumb.

“No, you’re definitely right,” Seonghwa agrees. “I’ll certainly enjoy knowing you’ll be performing with gecko bandaids. Not every rockstar can pull that off, but I think you can.”

Hongjoong can’t stop himself from flushing at the compliment, and he does his best to brush it off as well as he can.

“Yeah, well,” he ends up saying. “A sense of style comes with the territory.”

Seonghwa laughs again at that, and Hongjoong notices distantly that he looks really nice smiling like that. The thought is strange, and he shakes his head slightly to clear it.

“So are you going to set these out?” Seonghwa asks, waggling the poster now cradled carefully in his hands.

“That’s the plan,” Hongjoong tells him. He glances over his shoulder at the rest of the table. “I should get some of my bandmates to help.”

“I could,” Seonghwa offers quickly, looking a little surprised by his own suggestion. “If you’re ok with it, that is.”

“Uh, sure,” Hongjoong says, running a hand through his hair. “If you want to.”

Seonghwa immediately nods, gaze flicking between Hongjoong’s face and the table behind him.

“I like organizing things,” he says in explanation. “And I’ve organized everything at home already.”

“Well, do you want to do the t-shirts?” Hongjoong asks. He steps around to the other side of the table, with Seonghwa doing the same but on the front end.

“How do you want them?” the human immediately asks, eyes practically sparkling.

“I mean, they’re all the same,” Hongjoong tells him. “I was just going to set them in piles.”

“They come in different sizes, though,” Seonghwa points out, picking up the closest shirt. “This one is a small; you wouldn’t want it in with the larges.”

Sizing hadn’t occurred to Hongjoong at all. He quickly tries to come up with a cool way to downplay this flaw in his thinking.

“Do whatever you want,” he finally says, waving one hand.

He probably should have kept the hand gestures to a minimum. The movement agitated his scuffed-up palms, and Seonghwa notices his slight grimace of discomfort.

“You should go wash your hands off now,” he says, dragging the closest stack of t-shirts forward on the table. “I can watch things here.”

Hongjoong is opening his mouth to say that it really doesn’t hurt when Seonghwa fixes him with a stern look.

“Go wash them,” he says firmly. “You’ll get blood all over things if you don’t.”

Something in his voice has Hongjoong automatically turning before he can even fully register what he’s doing, heading for the door that he left propped open.

About halfway down the hallway inside, he begins to feel a little stupid. But he does need to wash his hands, and Seonghwa made a good point about getting blood on the merch.

He spends most of the time washing his hands wondering if he could charge extra for bloodstained t-shirts and posters.

By the time he emerges from the building, Seonghwa has unboxed every t-shirt they have and laid them all neatly out in orderly stacks. He has moved on to organizing the posters, and looks up when Hongjoong steps closer to the table.

“Did you wash your hands?” he asks, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Hongjoong finds himself holding out his hands for Seonghwa to inspect, feeling curiously like a little kid again.

“Good job,” Seonghwa tells him. “Do you want help putting on the bandaids?”

“I’m fine,” Hongjoong replies gruffly, already reaching into his pocket for the bandaids.

Seonghwa watches him for a long moment, but doesn’t say anything. Hongjoong focuses on the bandaids in his hands, having to figure out how to open them first.

He is surprised to learn that Seonghwa wasn’t joking about the bandaids. The first one he opens is covered in bright orange lizards, presumably geckos.

No one will see his palms anyways, he quickly decides. And if he really ends up hating them, he can just take them off once Seonghwa leaves.

Hongjoong puts the bandaids on as well as he can, frustrated at how inexpertly placed most of them are. It’s hard to put them on yourself, and he may regret refusing Seonghwa’s help. However, he does have a reputation to uphold, and so he struggles through the whole handful.

When his scrapes are covered by various colorful geckos, he stuffs the bandaid scraps into his pocket.

“Could you look over the t-shirts?” Seonghwa asks, nodding at that half of the table. “I want to make sure you like how I did it.”

Hongjoong steps closer to the table, slowing down to really look at the neat stacks of t-shirts. They are incredibly exact; the demon wonders absently if Seonghwa has a ruler somewhere in his bag. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“Looks good,” he says, glancing over at the human. “Very precise.”

Seonghwa flushes slightly at that, grinning. Hongjoong can feel his own cheeks heating up as well.

“Thanks,” Seonghwa replies. “Is there anything else, or just the posters?”

“Just the posters,” Hongjoong tells him. “I couldn’t line up any more merch unfortunately.”

“What else would you have liked to do?” Seonghwa asks, glancing at him briefly before looking back at the neat rolls of posters in front of him.

Hongjoong relaxes now that he is back in familiar territory. He easily launches into his plans for future merchandise, which include everything from hoodies to hats to shoes. Seonghwa makes all the right noises at the right times, occasionally asking questions to show that he is still listening.

They talk like that for quite a while, long enough that Hongjoong loses track of time. He is only reminded of how late it’s getting when he realizes that the light has definitely changed to that distinctive late afternoon color.

Unfortunately Seonghwa notices right at the same time.

“It’s getting late,” he says with a bit of worry in his voice. “I should be getting back to Yeosang. He’s probably worried.”

Hongjoong blinks at him, entirely unsure of who Yeosang is.

Seonghwa doesn’t seem to notice, too busy looking over the merch table one last time as if he’s making sure nothing has moved.

“Thanks for letting me organize things,” he says with a smile. “It was a lot of fun.”

“No problem,” Hongjoong tells him. “I wasn’t going to stop you.”

Seonghwa laughs at that, taking a half step back from the table.

“Wait,” Hongjoong calls out before he can walk any further away. “Don’t forget your poster.”

Seonghwa’s eyes immediately widen, and he retraces his few steps to take a rolled-up poster from Hongjoong’s hands.

“Thanks for catching that,” he says with a relieved laugh. “I would have been so mad at myself if I’d forgotten.”

Hongjoong laughs awkwardly at that, watching as Seonghwa carefully puts the poster in his bag, making sure it won’t get hurt.

“You should come to our next show,” he blurts out. “Because you can’t make it to this one.”

“I would like to,” Seonghwa tells him. “I really want to see what you’re like on stage.”

Hongjoong distantly manages to form a coherent reply to that, doing his best to keep from jumping up and down from excitement.

After his reply, the conversation kind of falls flat again. Hongjoong watches as Seonghwa’s gaze drops to the table again, one hand coming up to adjust his bag’s strap absently.

“Well I really should be going,” he finally says, making eye contact with Hongjoong. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Hongjoong says awkwardly. “Thanks for helping with all of this.”

He waves a hand vaguely, encompassing the table and everything on it.

“You’re welcome,” Seonghwa says with a smile. “Like I said, it’s not every day I get to meet a real life rockstar.”

Hongjoong chuckles at that, trying to seem cool again as he raises a hand to run through his hair.

“It’s not every day I meet someone who carries gecko bandaids,” he points out, earning a genuine laugh and smile from Seonghwa.

“Very true,” the human admits. “I guess we both had crazy experiences today.”

They exchange mildly awkward goodbyes, and even more awkward waves when Seonghwa turns around halfway to the street and finds Hongjoong still watching him.

In Hongjoong’s defense, he can’t just leave the whole merch table set up and unattended. That would be poor business practice.

And maybe he just wanted to watch Seonghwa head off, poster sticking out of his tote bag.

#doodle doo #ateez #ateez at au #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #park seonghwa #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa

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