#almost typed ant | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arminsumi · 8 months

Note

HELLOOO THERE!! Can I request gojo dating reader because of a bet with suguru and falling for reader, reader doesn’t know and was hurt when they overheard they’re just a bet, angst to fluff pls 🫶🫶🫶

thank youuuu, hope your having a good day!!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

A/N: u have no idea how much i LOVE this idea anon!!! 💗💗💗 i really hope i did it justice 😩

Wc ≈ 1.4k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: Suguru betted that Gojo could make anyone fall in love with him, even someone who was his complete opposite — like you.

Warnings; angst-to-fluff, angst contents — {self-loathing (Gojo), crying, heartbreak}, a little bit suggestive at the end, kissing/making out

♪ michelle

It was nice while it lasted.

The handholding in public, the stolen cheek kisses, the pampering and spoiling, relishing in the jealous looks thrown your way when he fed you bites of his food in the cafeteria, bathing in Gojo Satoru's affection. A lot of people would have killed for your position, or even a glimpse into what it's like to date your college's biggest heart throb.

You two seemed to really like each other. It was like two mismatched puzzle pieces somehow fitting together — a fascinating connection was shared. No one would have put you and him together, not even Gojo.

The only reason he asked you out in the first place was...

"Suguru, that's such a nasty idea... I love your mind."

"Just don't actually fall in love with her. The whole idea of this bet is that you can prove any girl can fall in love with you, don't forget that."

Gojo had chuckled at this, it seemed so ridiculous.

Why would he actually fall in love with you? You weren't even his type. He never paid you a sparing glance, not at school, not at parties, not around town.

You weren't his type...

So why did his heart start panging excitedly a few months into your 'fake' relationship? Why did he swoon when you fell asleep laid on his chest in his dorm room? Why did he want to kiss you so badly every time he saw your face? Why did he jump like a cat whenever he got a text from you? Why did he kiss you like the world was ending?

And why did he cry when you found out the truth? He looked distraught when Suguru let the secret slip.

Why did Gojo Satoru, the strongest, beg on his knees for you to stay when you were about to walk away?

"Please! I'm so sorry! I know it was so wrong and fucked up — shit I regret it so much — I really like you! I swear to god, I swear on my life!"

You choked on your tears so badly that you could barely talk. "I can't believe you. This is such a fucking horrible th - thing to do to s - someone, Gojo."

He felt so hurt that you went back to calling him Gojo and not Satoru, like you used to when the two of you were just mild acquaintances.

"Don't go!" He almost yelled.

His arms wrapped around your midriff, he slid down like he was too weak to support himself — like his legs went limp. He slid down until he was clinging to your legs. He sobbed with such a genuine-looking crying face that you almost believed it. He wasn't play-crying like he does to get attention or persuade people, he was ugly-crying.

Gojo Satoru, the prettiest boy you ever knew, was an ugly-crier. A string of saliva glistened between his canines, his mouth hung open like a dramatic renaissance portrait of a distraught man. His eyes were pinched so tight that fat tears cascaded out the corners.

"Please don't go!"

⁕⁕⁕

Suguru found his best friend sat in the middle of the campus' main stairs. Desolate. One hand holding up his heavy head. Regretful. eyes closed.

"So it didn't go well?"

Satoru didn't raise his head, but he slowly opened his eyes and looked miserably at the floor. He watched a line of ants.

"It went as horribly wrong as you could imagine." he responded eventually.

Suguru came to sit next to him. "Are you really in love?" he asked him seriously.

"Of course I fucking am! — sorry..." Satoru snapped, then immediately mumbled an apology.

A long summer breeze went by.

"Try again." he suggested, "I'm sure she'll - "

"She fucking hates me."

There was a heavy silence after Satoru said that.

"If I were her, I'd hate me too." Satoru muttered.

Suguru went silent. He felt guilty, after all, he was the one that dared his best friend to do something as stupid as play with your heart.

Satoru watched the ants scurrying along. He felt as puny and weak as one right then. The realization of these feelings themselves are what urged him to abruptly stand up.

"I'm not giving up. I'm gonna explain to her that I really did fall in love — that I really do fucking like her so god damn much it's insane and stupid."

"That's the spirit — where are you going?" Suguru asked curiously as Satoru began heading over to the parking lot.

"I'm gonna go bring her flowers and... stuff..." he replied unsurely.

Will that really work? He wondered to himself.

"But it's gonna rain." Suguru said, "Heyyy, Satoru, listen don't just — ah, there he goes... idiot really fell in love when I warned him not to..." he muttered pitifully.

⁕⁕⁕

There was a knock at your apartment door.

You wrung it open to reveal a heartbroken Gojo Satoru, soaked-through with rain, standing in the downpour, panting while holding onto a bouquet of vividly red roses. You couldn't have witnessed a more dramatic scene in a movie.

His hair was completely flat with wetness. There were raindrops running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.

On the walk to your apartment, Satoru had mentally written a speech for you.

It was definitely a well-rehearsed heartbroken boy's 'take me back' speech. Flawless and direct. Surely it would have sufficed.

But he didn't say even the first few words of his practiced speech when your door flew open.

All he did was break down crying and fall to his knees right in front of you, like some dramatic actor — except he wasn't acting, you could feel the realness of his regrets and miseries through each sob.

"Satoru..." you looked down at him pitifully. "Come inside, you're gonna get sick." you said tenderly.

For some reason, those very small words communicated more emotions than any form of 'I love you' ever could.

⁕⁕⁕

His pretty nose was slightly upturned. You noticed that when he first kissed you after your third date.

You noticed it again when you observed how red it had become from crying and sneezing.

Wrapping a blanket around him. Drying his hair. Fluffing it with your fingers. Making him some tea. Sitting him down on your bed. Putting on a movie. Letting him curl up into your arms — something he never did when you two were 'dating' because he was convinced he had to show off his dominance to win you over.

All of this together settled the air between you two. But it still didn't explain everything.

"Why'd you do something so dumb?" you asked him half-humorously.

He nibbled and chewed on his lip, eyes on the TV — not really, actually they were looking at your subtle reflection within it.

"I'm an asshole." he admitted.

"You don't say." you chuckled.

He felt bad, and uncurled his body and raised his face to look at you. Satoru never wore a serious expression in all the time you've known him, both as acquaintances and 'lovers' — except for now, which is how you know it's true.

"I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. Suguru dared me because... well, because it seemed comical. We're opposites, no one would ever put us together right? But he and I thought that was a hilarious challenge. We wanted to see if I could catch you and make you fall in love with me, or something like that..."

He started mumbling his words and refused to look at you.

"Satoru."

"Yeah?"

He reared his head up at you.

"Did it mean something to you, the time we spent this summer?"

He didn't hesitate to respond, "It meant everything." he said.

"Well, then there we go." you said with a little smile.

"Am I being forgiven...?"

"Mhm."

He seemed taken aback and unsure. Was he really being forgiven? Were you reversing the script on him and pulling a trick on him now?

"Does this mean..." he mumbled quietly, "... that I'm allowed to kiss you right now?" he asked nervously, heart panging, eyes giving your lips a longing glance.

"You're such an idiot." you sighed, "Yeah of course it means you can kiss m — mmmf!"

You never managed the rest of your words out, they all got muffled on Satoru's lips. His hand came to cup your right cheek, fingers caressing your skin like you meant everything to him. He tilted his head into the kiss, broke apart for air, dove back in, kissed you feverishly fervently violently eagerly — with so much affection and thankfulness that you almost couldn't breathe due to being smothered.

"Sorry..." he panted after breaking the kiss, bottom lip glistening with saliva. "I'm sorry for breaking a heart as good as yours."

"Just don't do it again." you told him in a whisper.

The poor boy, two days without kissing was really too much for him. He went right back in and kissed you blue, until you gasped and subconsciously wrapped your legs around his slim waist and pulled him closer. His whole body felt hot and eager. You tasted so good, you looked so good, you loved him so good — he decided right there in the back of his mind that he'd marry you after graduation.

1K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 1 year

Text

𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || being quarantined in his hotel room has dieter getting a little stir crazy, and when the drugs run out, he has to find a new vice. that's how he found you.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; phone/video call sex, use of toys, male and female masturbation), sex work (obviously, look at the title), dieter being down astronomically bad with a burgeoning housewife kink, basically nothing to do with the movie he's from whatsoever it's just porn with almost no plot

(my challenge for @the-slumberparty this week was to write a fic that has a bouquet of flowers somewhere in it! leave it to me to find a way to include that in something so insanely smutty...)

He couldn’t stop watching you—both right now, in this moment, and just generally.

Right now, he couldn’t take his eyes off the way your cunt slid up and down on the glass dildo, your walls gripping every ridge and detail of the toy, your arousal coating it and running in droplets down to the base.

And for the past two weeks, your videos had been his obsession. Maybe it technically qualified as a porn addiction—but it wasn’t just about that. He didn’t watch anyone else, and he didn’t even jerk off every time he watched one of your videos; sometimes he just liked hearing your voice, feeling less alone in quarantine in his hotel room.

Most people just put on sitcom reruns or the local news to make a hotel room feel less empty, but that didn’t work for Dieter. Maybe being an actor ruined the illusion of scripted TV for him—and as for the news, well, nobody would be comforted by the news these days.

So he turned to the only comfort he could rely on when all else failed: masturbation. But he didn’t like to do it without something to watch, and normally he would just find a video he liked and work with that, but something tempted him to try a cam site… and now he was never turning back.

You weren’t the first girl he saw, it took a little scrolling, but something about your channel caught his eye. It didn’t take even a full stream before he was addicted: you scratched every itch.

First of all, though he didn’t want to be too shallow, he couldn’t deny that your body was just his type. It felt like he could stare at you naked for hours and never get bored—and it drove him crazy that he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t turn you around and look at every inch of you. Instead he just had to lay back and let you show what you wanted; in a way, it was like a dominance thing—he was a victim to your whims, he could only get what you offered and that was it.

That said, you never left him wanting, that was the second thing he couldn’t resist about you. Your videos were… indulgent, maybe that’s the word he was looking for: it was so much more than just a girl rubbing herself in front of the camera and calling it a night. You spent a while talking with the viewers and reacting to comments, sometimes while undressing if you weren’t already naked; then, you upped the ante bit by bit, teasing yourself and him until it finally culminated in you bringing yourself to the peak over and over—until neither of you could take anymore. He wasn’t just satisfied after watching you, he was exhausted, in the best way.

And lastly, this one was probably just him projecting, but you seemed… sweet? Kinky, sure, but with something real about you—kinda that girl-next-door vibe. Maybe it was because you started some of your videos in normal clothes—not lingerie, not a sexy nurse outfit or whatever people are into these days—just a baggy band t-shirt and shorts or an old hoodie and pajama pants. It was hard not to imagine you as his girlfriend during those streams. Actually, once he let himself do it, he couldn’t stop—and it got him harder than anything else.

Perhaps Dieter had a bit of a reputation, and most would say he wasn’t very… sentimental with women. They wouldn’t be wrong, but they’d be misunderstanding him a bit. Truth be told, he was a pretty sensitive guy, and he’d always wanted a real relationship, it was just difficult with his career. Love is sort of like eating healthy: maybe you like to cook, maybe you like green beans and chicken breasts, but when a bag of potato chips is right there, you know what you’re probably gonna end up eating.

And Dieter really did go through ‘em like potato chips. It was easier that way. He got used to expressing his emotions through acting, and when emotions become your career, it’s a lot harder to be vulnerable for free.

Sometimes he wished he’d met you in person, somehow. (Then again, right now he was wishing he could meet anyone in person.) But if he’d met you in person, he would’ve probably just hit on you, convinced you to sleep with him, and then gone back to his same old habits—you would’ve just been another meaningless night. Instead he was trapped in this hotel, using his laptop like a window to the outside world, and you had become his vice. Even drugs couldn’t do for him what you could; the high you brought him was incomparable.

He told you just as much; sure, he felt like kind of a loser, but he started commenting on your streams hoping to get a reaction. I think I’m addicted to your videos. It was just one in a long string of adoring, horny comments that floated up alongside your video that day as you were casually touching yourself—one hand teasing your breast, pinching and circling the nipple, the other between your legs as you gently rubbed your clit. You hadn’t noticed his comment that time—or if you had, you didn’t say anything—but the next time, you saw it. You’d been using a vibe, taking it on and off your clit so you could edge yourself: that alone was a feat of self-discipline he couldn’t imagine. Can’t wait to see you cum, he’d written, too worked up himself to really wonder if it was clever or interesting.

You smiled, a little breathless laugh coming out more through your nose than your mouth. “Can’t wait to see you cum,” you repeated, “me either, buddy. Shit. Need to come so bad.”

Hearing you read his comment made him actually anxious—like an adrenaline rush, like when he was a kid and hadn’t gotten rid of his stage fright yet. You had such an effect on him; his heart was still racing when he finally came—he managed to wait until you did, only because he didn’t start jerking off until the last minute. Having to keep his throbbing dick out of his hand was an enormous task, but he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And it was worth it, to come with you; he loved hearing your moans as you came, imagining how you’d sound if he was fucking you—imagining all his come painting your stomach or ass or even going inside you…

And now, right now, he was imagining that last thing—imagining filling you with his come. You rode that glass dildo beautifully, and when he moved his hand at just the right pace, he could watch and feel the way you would ride him.

“Mm, y’like that?” you moaned, looking back at the camera—damn, if you looked back at him like that while you were on his cock he’d be a fucking goner.

“Yeah,” he panted, in real life, because responding to you aloud was a bad habit when he was close to coming.

“Wanna come in me?” you encouraged, and he bit his lip as he nodded; he wanted to shut his eyes from the pleasure, but he couldn’t miss a second of you picking up the pace as you bounced on the toy. “Wanna fucking come inside me?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” he panted out, starting to fuck up into his hand when your pace felt teasingly slow (even though it was already getting so much faster).

“C’mon baby, I want it—come in me, nice and deep,” you begged, voice getting shakier as your own orgasm neared. “Can you come with me? Please? Just fill me up right as you make me come—fuck, so good—”

“God, baby,” he whined, tightening up his stomach to try not to come instantly. Thankfully, he only had to hold out a few more seconds before he heard you start to make those undeniable moans: when you came, you were loud. He fucking loved that.

“Yes, yes!” you screamed, and he swore he could see the way your pussy squeezed that toy, he could see the shiver that ran up your spine—he’d give anything to feel that squeeze on his cock, to feel that shiver under his hands…

Come painted his hand, splattering onto his chest and thighs; if only he’d had the thought in advance to take his robe off entirely before he did this, now he was going to have to send some very shameful laundry to the front desk.

“Fuck, that was intense,” you laughed breathlessly as you started to recover. He could tell you were still a bit shaky as you lifted yourself off the dildo— and he winced, the last drop of come squeezing out of his slit, when he saw the way your pussy was left gaping for juuust a moment by the toy. Then one squeeze and it was like you were back to normal; she’s fucking incredible, he thought to himself, finally taking his hand off of his softening dick.

Panting, he felt the slightest tinge of shame in the back of his mind. Not just shame, actually, but loneliness: he watched you smile and turn to face the camera again, reading the slew of filthy praises in your comments, and he just wished it was the two of you— in real life, alone, holding each other…

But this was easier, this was so much easier. Being alone meant there was no one here to judge him, and that was worth having no one to wrap up in his arms in a time like this.

As he snagged a tissue from the bedside table to wipe himself off, he listened to you read and react to some comments. “Thanks, guys,” you beamed as you were overwhelmed with so hot and I just came so hard and you’re perfect. “You flatter me, stop it…”

He had to bite his lip when you started to play with your own tits, seemingly out of nowhere.

“They’re so sensitive after I come,” you explained with a giggle, then a moan as you pinched and teased the buds. “Have any of you ever tried that? Playing with your nipples?”

Dieter laughed as the comments poured in: what? that’s fucking gay all the way to I’m doing it right now for you my queen

“Oh god, has it been an hour already? I think I need to hop off, guys,” you announced.

Instantly the chat was flooded with pleas of don’t go!! and ten more minutes and how much do we tip for more time?

“If anybody wants to keep the conversation going, private chats are on sale on my page right now,” you explained with a friendly smile. “But if not I’ll see you tomorrow! Or, you’ll see me.”

With a flirty wave to the camera, the image froze and blurred; STREAM ENDED popped up on the screen. It was already trying to suggest other streamers live right now that he could watch, but Dieter only sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again.

“Private chats…” he mumbled to himself remembering what you said. He knew that you offered other services on your page, but something about you mentioning it this time got his attention. As he considered for a second if he should’ve washed his hands before touching the trackpad, he navigated to your page and looked at the menu of additional services for purchase. The list was long: private chats, as you’d mentioned; custom videos anywhere from 15 minutes to a concerningly-long two hours; a subscription to daily nude pictures, sent via Snapchat; even used panties available for shipping anywhere in the US and Canada.

He was originally just going to get a custom video, but as he scrolled through more options, he saw one-on-one video chat, and he got that feeling again—the adrenaline rush. It took him a second to even compose himself enough to read the description.

Do you hate having to share me with all the other viewers during my streams? I’d love to have some personal time to get to know you better, and do exactly what you’ve been dreaming of. You can use voice if that’s easier for you than text—top fans can even turn their camera on if they so desire.

A half-hour video chat was only $75— that sounded like a steal to Dieter right now— and they were available to book as soon as tomorrow. The idea made him feel all tingly and weird, but weird in a good way.

Top fans can even turn their camera on…

His constant engagement with your page for the last couple weeks had earned him the ‘top fan’ badge. When he imagined showing you his face, his body, he got unexpectedly anxious, though; he wasn’t a particularly shy guy, but this was a delicate issue. What if you recognized him? What if you were a fan? That would be weird— in a bad way.

Or what if you were a fan and you were overcome with the need to send him free videos, free pictures, even being willing to meet up with him sometime? That would be… convenient, certainly, in some ways; but the thought overwhelmed him, and he decided that if he was going to buy one of these chats, his camera would have to stay off. Just not worth the trouble.

He decided something else, too; a strange instinct, but one he was too deep in his post-orgasmic haze to resist. He wanted to send you a gift. Mostly, he hoped it would set him apart from other viewers— give you two something to talk about during that call. If he bought you a toy from your wishlist, maybe you could use it for the first time for him… that would be incredibly hot.

Or maybe he’d buy you something more normal, like a nice throw pillow for the bed you laid on for some of your videos… the domesticity of that certainly attracted him.

But then, he had a simpler idea. When in doubt while giving a gift to a woman, why not stick to the classics, right?

There was a P.O. Box for fanmail and gifts on your page, and he pulled up another tab to search: can you send flowers to a po box?

Just because he was a whore didn’t mean he wasn’t a romantic.

“I have to say, I get a lot of gifts… never gotten flowers before.”

His heart warmed to hear you say that— but it didn’t stop racing. This felt different: having you here, in only a t-shirt and panties as he’d seen you many times, but knowing it was just for him… he loved it, but it was a little scary. In a good way. “Do you like them?” he asked.

“Yeah!” you smiled, fiddling with the stems as the vase sat beside you. “Pink roses, lilies, orchids… you’re gonna spoil me, Hector.”

(Yes, he gave you his real name. Ironically, he used it to hide who he actually was— but he liked hearing you say it.)

“Not that I mind,” you added with a wink. “Do you mind if I have these in the background of my next stream? They'll match the toy I'm gonna use."

"O-oh, yeah, sure,” he choked. “What toy are you gonna use?”

You smirked a little, to the point that he almost felt stupid for asking that— but you didn’t mind showing him, in fact you had it ready and showed the baby-pink toy off for him. His throat got a little tighter when he saw the U-shape of the toy; didn’t take a genius to imagine where that would go… and already his mind was jumping ahead to how you’d look with those silicone ends penetrating both your holes—

“Looks like fun,” he managed to get out, and you looked pretty proud of yourself for making him a bit flustered.

“Do you wanna turn your camera on?” you offered suddenly after you’d set the toy aside. “No pressure, of course.”

He went through a whole rollercoaster when you asked that. Because yes, he did—sort of. But would it just make things more complicated? What if you were uncomfortable with him being famous, thought he might expose you or something—or, more concerningly, what if you exposed him? Or what if you just berated him with dumb fan questions when he was trying to forget about his life right now? “Uh,” he stalled, “is it okay if I don’t, this time?”

“Of course, it’s all up to you,” you replied. “I’m just a little curious… you have a sexy voice. Gotta wonder if it matches.”

He didn’t even know if you would think he was sexy—he certainly hoped so, but maybe you had a type of your own. Maybe you were a lesbian, how should he know? “Thanks,” he hummed, “you too—but, you know, all of you is sexy.”

“Aw shucks,” you said as you struck a pose, putting your hands under your chin and batting your eyes to complete the sarcastic impression of innocence. He laughed, and it reminded him why your videos were so special— ‘cause you made him laugh like that. “You know, a lot of people book these chats because they have a specific kink they want me to try for them,” you explained. “What about you? Why’d you book this?”

“Is it weird if I just… kinda wanted to talk to you?”

His heart skipped when he saw your reaction—the shy, tender smile that appeared on your face. “No, that’s not weird,” you replied, and for some reason it was how incredibly sweet you looked right then that made his cock jump in his boxers. “We can talk about whatever you want.”

“Can we talk about you?”

“Not much to talk about,” you shrugged, smirking a bit; of course you were teasing him, he didn’t even mind.

“I really doubt that,” he chuckled. “Is this your only job? Do you do anything else?”

“I, uh, used to do something else,” you answered, “but then they found out about this.”

“Oh, that sucks…”

“Nah, worked out for the best. Started making way more when I had more time to put into it,” you nodded. “I like this a lot better, actually. No sick leave, but no dress code, either.”

“Yeah, that’s a plus,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him.

“What about you? What do you do?”

“Um… I’m an actor,” he replied. He considered lying, but couldn’t come up with anything else.

“Oh, that’s really cool!” you smiled. “Wouldn’t have seen you in anything, would I?”

“Probably not,” he laughed off your question. “Do you, um, have any hobbies? You must not have a lot of spare time, with people paying for chats and custom videos and all…”

“I take a few days off, here and there,” you nodded, “mostly I just like movies and stuff.”

That made him even more anxious that you would know who he was. He still hadn’t decided if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, though.

“I like to cook,” you added.

It was starting to feel like you were intentionally targeting his newly developed girlfriend fetish. Instantly his mind was flooded with all this domestic bullshit: shopping with you for ingredients, coming home to a fresh dinner, waking up to you in the kitchen wearing his shirt and flipping pancakes. “I like to eat,” Dieter replied, “we’re so compatible.”

You laughed, and if this was all just some act where you pretended to think he was funny and interesting, it was the best acting he’d seen in a while. “Are you flirting?” you noticed, raising an eyebrow as if to point out how fitting-yet-bizarre it was for him to be hitting on you—because he didn’t need to, you were his for the half-hour regardless. But he liked this better, and he loved making you laugh.

“Maybe,” he offered cryptically in return.

“Is that what the flowers were for? Are you trying to seduce me?” you accused with a grin.

“Those were just to get your attention,” he admitted.

“Hector, honey,” you cooed, making his heart skip. “You already have my attention.”

That excited him and his dick, which was now making a tent in his boxers as it waited for some of your promised attention; somehow, just casually-flirtatious conversation with you was almost hotter to him than the usual stuff. Maybe he was just a little burnt out on all that by now— because talking to you had become much more valuable than seeing you naked.

“Just tell me one thing about you,” you bargained.

“Alright,” he agreed.

“Are you hard?”

He swallowed. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice sounding weaker than he meant it to. You smirked a little.

“We don’t have to,” you assured him, “but if you’re interested, why don’t we get off together, hm? Does that sound okay?”

Was it a good sign that you were initiating this, or did it just mean you were getting impatient with him? God, it didn’t matter—he was gonna do whatever you wanted. “Okay,” he answered. “Yeah—that sounds… more than okay.”

Biting your lip slightly, the way you looked at the camera almost made him feel like you were sizing him up—even though all you could see was a black screen. “Are you touching your cock already?”

“N-no, I… I still have boxers on,” he replied. “Should I?”

“No, you should rub it a little through the boxers,” you instructed. “That’s what I’m gonna do—touch my clit through these panties. It’s even more sensitive when I do that, don’t ask me how.”

“R-right, okay,” he nodded. He already liked taking instructions from you more than he thought he would. His hand spread out over the bulge in the cotton, a sigh slipping from his lips as he started to find the right amount of pressure so he wouldn’t get too into it too fast.

His eyes were transfixed on the way you spread your legs, and he swore your panties already looked a little damp…

Your finger traced delicately over the seam of your pussy, and his balls tightened up at the way you sighed as you teased yourself. “You should play with your tits, too,” he informed you, his own voice sounding shaky as he tried to hold back from just getting his cock out and jerking off as fervently as he wanted to.

“You’re just full of good ideas, huh?” you joked, taking your free hand and pinching yourself through your shirt.

“Then here’s another one for you,” he offered, “take something off.”

“Shirt or panties?” you asked.

“Dealer’s choice.”

You smiled and surprised him by lifting your hips, pulling your underwear down your thighs before kicking them off to the side. For some reason, even though he gave you the choice, he expected you to take the shirt off first; and there was something surprisingly sexy about you still having that casual t-shirt on and nothing else. (Likely, it was because it made it easier to imagine you just wearing one of his shirts…)

It added a new thrill to the now-familiar sight of your pussy— not that he ever got bored of that view. “Can you— can you spread it for me?” he panted, nearly whimpering when you took two fingers and scissored apart your lips. “Fuck, got such a pretty hole, baby…”

He saw it flex as you heard the compliment, and he couldn’t help but moan quietly. “Yeah? Have you thought about how good it would feel?” you encouraged with a sigh. “How good this hole would feel on your cock?”

“Every fucking day,” he promised.

“Then take it out,” you instructed breathily. “Start touching your cock, and think about what it would be like if I was there touching you instead.”

Though he was glad to do as you’d said, pulling his throbbing erection from his boxers with a sigh, he had to disobey one of your commands. “No, m’thinking about a lot more than that,” he replied, and you cracked a smile as you rubbed your clit faster. “Thinking about being— fuck— inside you…”

You hummed happily; after all that teasing, he was so sensitive and worked up that it felt like he was already fighting to hold himself back. He certainly couldn’t keep his pace down— right away he was stroking himself quickly, struggling to keep it together.

“Thinking about how fucking tight you are,” he added with a groan, loving the little whimper you let out in return.

“Hector, baby,” you moaned, and he hadn’t heard that name said that way in a very long time. “This might be over sooner than I thought if you talk like that…”

“Good,” he decided, “it’s not gonna take me very long, either— you always make me like that.”

“How would you fuck me?” you asked, panting, rocking your hips against your hand. “Tell me how you’d fuck me, baby.”

“Fuck, I—hard,” he choked out. “So fucking hard—”

“Mm,” you moaned encouragingly.

“And I’d eat you out,” he decided, “before and after. I’ve been dying to know how your pussy tastes.”

“After, huh? Is that with your come inside?” you wondered. “Or did you wanna come on my tits?”

“Inside,” he groaned. “I’d eat my—fuck—eat my come out of you, I don’t care.”

“That’s dirty,” you purred, “I like it. I like a man who can clean up his mess.”

“Never liked coming inside that much until I started watching your streams,” he admitted. “Now it’s all I can think about—coming inside you.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, “want you to think about that when you come for me now, okay? Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” he promised, moving his hand faster and feeling that tension in his gut that told him the breaking point was approaching.

“Think about filling me up,” you continued, “giving me all that come, so deep inside—”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “are you close too?”

“Baby, I’ve been trying not to come since we fucking started,” you admitted— and maybe it was a lie, but he bought it joyously.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he gasped, “I’m gonna come so hard— fuck yes— gonna come for you…”

“Do it,” you begged, “I want you to, I want you to come, Hector.”

“You— you should come, too,” he countered with a shaking gasp, his cock already starting to flex as he knew he was seconds away from losing it.

“I will,” you promised with a smile, your voice itself turning every word into a moan, “I’m gonna come with you, baby, fuck— lemme hear it, wanna hear you come—”

He came with a grunt, squeezing down on his cock with his fist as come launched out in long pulses; “F-fuck, I’m coming, ahhh fuck,” he narrated— normally he wouldn’t say something like that, but you had asked to hear it, so…

“Me too, I— oh!” you shouted, and he watched with heavy eyes as you tossed your head back, hips rocking up into nothing— your hand was a blur over your pussy but he swore he could see it pulsing and clenching, creamy slick leaking slowly from your hole.

The last of his come came out as a fat droplet running down his shaft, making his fingers unpleasantly sticky as the ringing in his ears subsided and he began to slowly come back to reality. You were panting, pushing yourself just a bit further until your whole body jolted and you quickly pulled your hand away.

“God,” you groaned, “that was… draining.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing a little at how wrecked his own voice sounded.

“I wish I could just, like, take a nap right now,” you admitted with a tired grin.

“I mean, you could— we’re almost out of time…” he noticed.

“No, I— yeah, I could, but I have something after this,” you replied, and he felt a little twist in his chest. He didn’t blame you at all for it, but it made him jealous to think of you hopping right on to your next call— it made him feel like he was just one of your thousands of fans, which is not how he wanted you to think of him at all.

“Another call?” he assumed.

“No, just private chats,” you corrected, which somehow made him feel a little bit better, “and I should probably post a few things for my Snapchat— we’ll see. I will definitely need a break before my stream tonight, though… will I see you there? Proverbially?”

He smiled a little. “Yeah, definitely.”

“Drink plenty of fluids before then,” you winked. “Thanks for calling, Hector… I hope we can do this again sometime.”

It’s an upsell, she’s not actually into you, she’s not actually into you, he tried to force himself to believe. But it was so much easier, so much more fun, to imagine that you really liked him— that those flowers stood out enough for you to realize that he’s different.

You both said your polite goodbyes and the call ended. He was definitely sleepier than he anticipated after all that— you said you were, too, which made him just want to have you here even more so you could fall asleep on his shoulder and he wouldn’t have to be alone in this bed for the seemingly-thousandth time in a row.

Exhausted to the bone, some impossible mix of satisfied and starving for more of you, Dieter sighed and shut his laptop.

Seven seconds later, he opened it again. He wanted to book his next video call before he passed out.

thank you so much for reading! if you're interested in a second part to this, please let me know by reblogging or maybe even leaving a comment! you can read my other works for pedro pascal characters here or check out my full masterlist here

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x y/n #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #navy and roo's sleepover

3K notes · View notes

ectologia · 3 months

Text

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒜𝐵𝒪𝒰𝒯 . . .

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ just sleepy emotional boys, embarrassing sex scene

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 . . .

Big, powerful, stoic men who come home so tired and exhausted that they just can’t...

His hair is mussed, his eyes heavy lidded with dull purple rings encircling them, shadowing his features gravely when he looks up at you with sunken brows.

He has to bow to enter without hitting his head on the door frame, climbing into your home like a giant intruding on an ant’s nest. His arms barely extend into the air, more a subtle twitch of his fore fingers beckoning you to him, silently asking, begging for a hug. Or at least some type of affection.

You poise yourself on your toes, slinging your arms up and around his shoulders while he arches into you with the likeness of a withered old willow tree.

No words are exchanged as he picks you up by your rear, propping you on his hip like one would a child. You assume he wants you in bed, so you cling to him. Interlocking yourself around his body with your ankles hooked at the base of his spine.

To your confusion, the inevitable groan and creak of the staircase never comes, only a grunt of frustration, and the clang of a belt buckle that has your ears perking.

You’re pinned to the nearest wall within an instance, yelping as picture frames jounce and ornaments shudder. He wastes no time in pulling your underwear to the side, wanting to be as close as possible as he bathes the warm, velvety tip of his dick in your slick, rolling it’s throbbing warmth around in your own with a broken whimper.

He has no desire to stretch you open and spear himself inside you today, perfectly content with rocking back and forth lazily with weak thrusts and humps, forehead and hands plastered against the wall behind you with laboured breaths leaving moist patches against your shoulder and neck.

Neither of you are moving, left with your legs dangling limply as he pushes himself up and down against the delicate softness of your little pink slit.

You brace yourself on his shoulders, hanging off of him like dead weight as his hips move with the weakest of pulses, barely thrusting with the bob of his ankles and tense of his ass assisting him.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” He chants like a prayer through grit teeth, voice breaking and shattering as though he was on the verge of tears, teetering on the edge and torn between cumming and crying, croaking out tiny pleas as droplets bubble along his lash line and sink to where his throat closes up.

His knees almost unravel from their locked position and give way when you shush him, stroking up his nape and carding through the thick locks layered with sweat, cooing at him sweetly that he doesn’t have to finish tonight, and neither do you.

He collapses at that, crouching down on the floor and taking you with him. He must look so silly, sobbing and sniffling into your hair, hunched with his boxers around his ankles and his manhood swinging between his knees half hard. No less with you crumpled beneath him, twitching muff puffed out bare with your legs tangled over his thighs like a contortionist, waiting patiently for his tears to subside.

“Tomorrow”, he promises. Tomorrow he’ll be better. Tomorrow he’ll fuck you till’ you cripple, he’ll eat your pussy and he’ll finger you till’ you squirt then he’ll do it all again for you, he promises. He’s sorry.

But he knows he shouldn’t be, by the way you shake your head light heartedly and smile. You let him cry as long as he wants, bringing himself to his knees and cuddling your chest as though he wasn’t twice your size and height, squashing your partially nude form into the floor until he’s all tuckered out and sleepy beyond comprehension.

You’d carry him to bed if you could, wanting to repay him for all the times he’d done so for you. But instead, you just stay. Moulding and bending into whatever position he demands of you as he rests his weary head against your stomach, snivelling until two blinks become one, and one blink becomes zero.

𝓉𝑜𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝑔𝒶𝓇𝒶𝓀𝒾, 𝓀𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓀𝒾 𝒷𝒶𝓀𝓊𝑔𝑜𝓊, 𝒹𝒶𝒷𝒾, 𝓀𝑒𝒾𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒶𝓂𝒾, 𝒾𝓏𝓊𝓀𝓊 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓎𝒶, 𝑒𝒾𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓂𝒶 + 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓈 !

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi #hawks #keigo takami #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #bnha x reader #shigaraki x reader #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #kirishima x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha smut

945 notes · View notes

littlestarlightseverywhere · 5 months

Text

This Love

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel would set the world on fire if it that’s what it took for his mate believe she deserves his love

Warnings: None

Notes: Hiii! This is my first ACOTAR fic on tumblr! Az is my man my man my mannnn and I just love thinking about him. Here’s a little something that came to mind when I was listening to “This Love” by Taylor Swift

Image Credit: “This Love” Taylor’s Version lyric video

Azriel sat hunched over in the plush velvet chair in Rhysand’s office. His elbows dug into his strong thighs as he clasped his hands together, focusing on the slow, mindless movement of his thumb over the ball of his knuckle.

“I think the Cauldron got it wrong.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian asserted eloquently.

“The Cauldron doesn’t simply ‘get things wrong’,” Rhysand said softly from where he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed contemplatively over his chest. Cassian, lounging in the chair across from Azriel, threw his hands in the air.

“It takes longer for some people than others, you know.”

“I knew far before Feyre did,” Rhysand supplemented.

“Anyone with eyes can tell how she feels about you. It’s beyond me you don’t see the way she looks at you, brother.”

Azriel was at a loss. Pining after the same woman for decades proved brutal on the heart. Downright treacherous, really, considering he felt the mating bond snap a long time ago and she had given almost no indication she felt anything of the like.

He knew she liked him in the way a person “likes” their best friend who knows them inside out, has been with them through every insignificant or life-altering moment, and embraces every part of them– even the messy bits. No, Azriel had no doubt in his mind that she loved him. She’d said as much multiple times, which left him feeling even more confused.

He didn’t want to push her for fear of ruining what they already had. Things were good, he’d even go so far as to say things were perfect between the two of them. He knew he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, the picture of good, and there were many things he’d done wrong to get to where he is today. Still, she was the one thing he did right. The best part about his life. Whether she knew it or not, it was his truth and he swore if it came down to it, he’d stand to do right by her before Prythian.

“She just has everything together. I don’t want to take up space in a life where she has everything figured out. We are in good places in each other's lives. I would hate to pressure her to change any of it for me.”

“You say that as if you'd be ruining her life,” Cassian’s anger simmered to a sadness. “She’d never think that.”

“And what about you?” Rhysand interjected. “You’re breaking your own heart waiting for her to feel the bond snap. Maybe you need to help her on.”

“I would never put her on the spot like that.”

“I wasn’t suggesting–”

“What if she’d rejected the bond somehow?” Azriel stood up, legs suddenly overcome with the sensation of a thousand little fire ants devouring his skin.

“Now you’re just making shit up.” Cassian huffed, returning to anger.

“How else can any of this be possible? How can she be so oblivious?”

“There is one way,” Rhys offered, suddenly solemn.

Azriel and Cassian looked to their brother expectantly. Azriel felt his heart hammer against his chest in anticipation. A reason was good. A reason was a start. A reason meant that there was a way out of this purgatory he found himself in.

“I read it in one of Amren’s books a long time ago,” Rhys locked eyes with Azriel. “When the mating bond has snapped into place for one of the fae in the pair and the other has absolutely no indication of it, usually it is a sign that they are not looking for a mating bond at all.”

“A lot of people don’t go looking for it,” Cassian reasoned. “I myself was more of the let-it-happen-when-it-will type.”

“Not looking for it in the sense that they don’t believe they deserve it. In the way that perhaps it's simply not meant for them.”

Silence fell over the three males. Azriel felt his heart shatter, pieces of it falling deep into his gut, turning it over and making him uneasy.

“If anyone doesn’t deserve this it’s me.” Azriel whispered.

“Don’t,” Cassian warned.

Rhys continued softly. “When they believe that, they inadvertently shield themselves from feeling anything… including a bond even if it does exist. A defense mechanism of sorts.”

The body protecting itself from heartbreak so painful that it registered it as a physical ailment. Azriel was going to be sick.

He couldn’t believe the love of his life felt that way. He wondered for how long she’d lived with such a belief, how long she’d been giving him her love while accepting none of his. He wanted to tear down the mountains around Velaris, move them, raise them, turn them to dust, anything he could manage to get her to believe him when he told her he loved her.

He barely felt he deserved her at all. It made him queasy with devotion and grief that she loved him enough to ever think she was the undeserving one.

Azriel was so far past worrying that she did not feel the mating bond anymore. All he cared about was making sure she knew she was loved by him in a way that brought him to his knees.

Her second favorite part of the year after Winter Solstice: Starfall.

Elaine spent most of the day in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Mor, Feyre, Nesta sat on her bed, lounging on the expansive mattress before it was time to get ready for the party.

While everyone else had their dresses picked out, she was still between options.

“Okay, option one.” She stepped out from behind the dressing screen, twirling dramatically in a golden trumpet dress that shimmered like woven sunlight.

Mor howled and Nesta smirked in satisfaction.

She turned to look into the mirror and study her body. She felt her heart palpitate as her mind immediately dared to wonder what Azriel would think. Would he like it? She shook my head quickly to clear the thoughts. It didn’t matter what he thought anyway.

Feyre sat back, tilting her head with a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite place. “It’s not bad. I caught a glimpse of the other gown earlier…” The ends of her mouth curled upwards.

The second dress was her personal favorite too. A silk, dark navy sheath that hung from her curves elegantly. It shimmered of silver and lavender under the light like the stars had been gathered from the sky and threaded into the material, one by one.

“Yes.” All three chanted at the same time as soon as she walked out again, clad in the dress that looked like it had been made only for her. There was no room for theatrics as her best friends gazed approvingly.

She did not need to look in the mirror to know this is the dress she wanted to wear. After all, she loved the color blue.

The rest of the girls got ready before she did. She went back and forth on hairstyles and makeup multiple times. Nuala and Cerridwen were more than patient, as were her friends who all waited downstairs for her before they’d leave for the House of Wind together.

“This is as good as it will get, I suppose,” She looked in the mirror one final time before descending the stairs that led to the living room below.

As soon as she neared the middle of the stairs, a shadow slipped around her ankle and up her bare arm, sending goosebumps in its wake. It slipped back down her arms gently, like a lover’s admiring touch, and down the stairs again.

Azriel was the first to turn. His senses were always tuned to her without his knowledge or deliberate effort. Her presence was like a beacon in his darkness. A lighthouse to his boat on treacherous waters. He could sense her in a crowded room in a heartbeat just by the way his heart would pound and his skin would warm.

Their eyes locked and he felt a pull in his chest. Almost with a start, he realized it wasn’t even the mating bond, though it also hummed within him. Even despite the mating bond, tender yearning filled his chest at the sight of her standing at the bottom of the stairs now. Pure love. The Cauldron blessed him this one time, perhaps the only time it ever would, giving him the mate it did. Yet he knew, especially in that moment as he drank in the sight of her glowing skin, shy smile, and deep eyes, he would love her even if they were not bound together in this way. He knew he’d choose her over and over and over again. He’d give anything to have her look at him the way she was right now, forever.

Still, Azriel’s heart wrenched as he recalled why she couldn’t feel the mating bond– this thing that crooned and moaned, twisted and sung, wrenched and wrested to be felt by the only other person in the world who it belonged to, not understanding why it hit a wall everytime it tried to reach out to its other half. His other half.

Something like pride came over Azriel as he noticed everyone else stop and stare. Their friends welcomed her with hugs and kisses and compliments and he watched her be loved and by all of their friends. He wanted to say something as their eyes met again. What would he say first? Azriel had a waterfall of words teetering at the tip of his tongue, flowing straight from the pits of his heart, but supposed telling her she was beautiful was a good start.

But before he could say anything, Mor gathered her and Elaine into her arms before winnowing them to the House. Feyre, Nesta, and Amren followed them a second later.

Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, a rare, soft smile on his lips. “Don’t waste another day, brother.”

With Varian uncomfortably nestled in Cassian arms, they were off to the House too.

The celebration was grand as usual. Food and drink flowed from every corner of the room and everyone danced without a second to rest.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She danced with her friends for the longest time; Mor swirled her around the room and Nesta challenged her to keep up.

He stayed within the chattering crowd that boxed in the dance floor, sipping mulled wine and adjusting a fine thread on his jacket every now and again.

She excused herself from Nesta’s ceaseless dancing for some air. Her face was flushed, body warm, but she was happy. Once she reached the doors to the balcony and closed them behind her, she reveled in the immediate silence that followed.

The night air was cool on her flushed skin, the wind a caressing and most welcome touch.

A few minutes later, she heard the balcony door open behind her. Of course she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. It was the only person that would follow her anywhere, no questions asked.

“Are you quite parched, yet?”

She turned around to find Azriel standing there, tall, broad, and beautiful, with two glasses of mulled wine.

“Quite.” She affirmed with a smile. He walked toward her until they were elbow to elbow, as close as he dared, before handing her the glass. She proposed they toasted to the spirits, who would begin their migration soon, for a safe journey. He obliged.

They sipped their wine in a comfortable silence. Any minute now the show would begin and everyone would move to the main balcony to watch and continue their dancing. This smaller balcony was perfect for just the two of them.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Azriel said as he did not bother to observe the first few stars that crossed the sky in glittery streaks of silver and gold. Next to her, everything else paled in comparison.

Her heart trembled at the compliment. It wasn’t the first compliment he’d given her, far from it, but coming from him they always meant so much.

With the wine in her system, accompanied with whatever was in Cassian’s flask when it was offered to her an hour ago, she said. “I wore this dress for you.”

The choice of color was not lost on him. The next few stars that soared across the sky caused his inky blue siphons to glisten in their glittery light. A perfect match to her silk.

“It suits you.” Azriel hated that his heart was hammering like this. He felt the love in his chest hum like a magnet, the bond snap like a rubber band against his lungs, stealing their air.

She didn’t say anything, only turned to look at him and he did not back away from her eye contact. Only returned it with such intensity that they now spoke with their eyes, a conversation that could never be expressed with mere words, an exchange between soulmates that remained only between them, not even the sky and stars privy to those thoughts.

Before his mind could refuse or reason with him, he closed the gap between the two of them, taking her elbow in his large hands. She allowed him to guide her to his strong body, eager to follow his lead.

His hands dropped to her waist, a respectable distance above her hips, though she would be pleased if he dared to go lower.

“I think about you all the time.” He spoke softly as he drew her as close as she could get. Their bodies were touching, and she was sure he could feel her heart hammering like a bird trying to take flight in a locked cage.

“You don’t,” She whispered as the stars began to rain across the sky in glimmering streams of light. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to stop before she made a fool of herself. But her body forced her to stay put, to soak in his warmth, the feeling of him against her, to allow herself to indulge in this.

“I do.” His voice was strong, tone resolute. He held her gaze. “I would never lie. Not to you. You are the one thing in my life I would spend the rest of my immortality living for. You’ve captivated me since the moment I met you and if it takes the rest of my life to prove it, I would gladly call it my life’s work. I can’t keep this from you any longer. If that makes me selfish…”

She reached her hand out to cup his jaw. He leaned into it immediately. Her touch was soft against his face and he thought about how nice it would be to stay like this forever.

Starfall was in full effect. Music and laughter from the other balcony was but a distant, muffled, chorus to him and he watched the shine of the raining stars reflect off of her eyes and skin. Like a work of art, he observed. My mate, my mate, my mate, his insides thrummed.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He understood the look in her eyes, the silent permission, the mutual yearning. In an act of mercy, blessing, and loss of control, he slanted his lips over hers, dropping his hands lower on her waist, shifting one to her lower back to support how flush to his body he held her.

She wrapped his arms around his neck, damning the voices in her head telling her none of this was real, that he’d regret it and take it all back in the morning. Deep down she knew even if other men would, Azriel would never. She gave into him, leaned into him, let him in everywhere he demanded it.

She didn’t think about how long she spent in his arms, connected to him like this. Her breath hitched as he felt her squeeze her waist and use the hand that was at the small of her back to travel upward caressingly, taking his time to feel her skin, the dips and planes of her body through the silk, to rest at the back of her neck.

Azriel was so wholly in love he didn’t even have to think about his next move or any kind of thought. Being with her was natural, like second nature.

She pulled away just long enough to breathe, caressing his swollen bottom lip with her thumb as she moved to hold his jaw. He smiled drunkenly at her, watching as she blushed and indulged herself in the feel of his face.

As the stars rained over Velaris in glittering dashes across the perfect canvas of the night sky, she stood with Azriel, holding him as he held her, suddenly keenly aware of what it felt like to be loved by him.

Azriel’s eyes softened in realization, relief, as he felt the hum of the bond break through his chest for the first time in decades. It extended outward freely, like a bird let loose, soaring like the stars in the sky to meet its other half.

She gasped softly as she felt a snap in her chest. A snap that realigned worlds, parted clouds, mended something broken, that marked a shift in time.

She understood.

“Az…” she whispered, almost wanting to not believe it.

He nodded, letting her feel his touch as she worked through the new emotions.

“How long have you known?” She brought her arms down from his neck to hold his hands. His bigger palms enveloped hers easily, warm and strong. Sure.

“Decades.” He shook his head slightly as if it was common sense he’d been in love with her for so long, refusing to break eye contact with her.

“And all this time… you waited? You never– I never thought…”

“I can’t think of anything else I’d want to spend my entire life loving.” He swept a lock of her hair behind her ear to see her better. To remind himself this wasn’t a dream, not this time.

She allowed Azriel to pull her in again, savoring the way his lips tasted, how soft they felt, the way he held her like she’d vanish if he even lifted a finger. It was a grasp that made her want for nothing anymore. Everything she wanted was right here.

“It seems,” she breathed, slightly out of breath after they pulled away again. “I’ve kept you waiting for quite some time.”

“I’d wait any amount of time for you.” He murmured, running his thumb back and forth over the nape of her neck. “I’d do anything.”

738 notes · View notes

thegnomelord · 5 months

Note

here for the prompt game! (Seriously such a neat idea)

I’m thinking 26 with Ghost and Soap and an inexperienced male reader (could be trans if you want) who’s got an eager golden retriever vibe about him even if he doesn’t know as much as the other two. Also maybe some fluff on the side about reader maybe biting off more than they can chew and getting overwhelmed and Ghost and Soap could comfort him? Thanks!

Sure thing anon! sorry it took so long, couldn't figure out what to write; I decided to do an eldritch reader since I haven't written it in a while and I think it works with this prompt :D. Play the game HERE

Prompt: Pulling them closer by the back of the neck

CW: NSFW, Sub Top Male Eldritch Reader, Dom Bottom Ghost, Sub Bottom Soap, oral, anal, nonhuman genitalia, tentacles, first times.

You don't know how this happened; Ghost and Soap(primarily Soap) had taken upon themselves to introduce you to alcohol, and despite the knowledge you couldn't get drunk or even consume it like they could, you still drank down what was given to you just to see amusement dancing in their eyes as they tried to match you.

Then Johnny had leaned in and by the time your eternal mind had finished buffering you were stuck between two warm bodies, Soap's hands greedily pushing beneath your shirt, his mouth like a blistering star against your own, tongue prying your lips open to push cold liquor into your mouth and running over your teeth as a way to remind you to swallow.

And for the first time in over a millennia you are. . .uncertain.

You'd watched these little creatures for so long you had been certain you could match them, arrogant creature that you are, for what is an ant to a god?

But the moment you felt their touch, before even time had been able to register it, you froze. You felt naked; you feel naked, stripped bare of cloth and human flesh, their warmth stabbing through inky abyss to your core, to all that you are and will be.

Johnny pulls back with a wicked grin and you're left breathing like a newborn, your skin bulging in unnatural ways as you shift beneath, unsure of what to do, what to think, your mind desperate to feel more yet weary of it.

You forget how observant they are despite how short their lives are, "You olright?" Simon asks, his broad chest flush with your back, both of them warm like collapsing stars compared to your corpse like temperature.

"Yeah lad," Johnny leans a bit back, "Yer lookin' a wee bit tense." His palms lay flush along your ribs and he can almost feel you writhing beneath— it takes every bit of your consciousness not to reach out, not to tear through the flimsy layer of stolen skin to feel him, not to wrap them in your body and never let go.

"I. . ." You push out a breath, the air near your mouth crackling with static. "I don't know." Your eyes focus on Johnny only to widen when you notice how his mohawk has puffed up like a blow-dried cat. "Ah-I'm sorry."

Johnny looks at you incredulously, not aware by his appearance, "Sorry for whot?" His brows furrowed, "Hey, wee dinnea have to do this if yer havin' second thoughts."

You feel Simon shift to your side, still close but not suffocatingly so, his rough fingers on the nape of your neck, blunt nails scratching your skin. "Talk to us."

"I. . .I didn't think it would be this hard." You admit, gnawing on your bottom lip; some things are native to both gods and mortals, anxiety included.

"That's what she said." Johnny suddenly pipes up. "I- ow!" You assume it's some type of poorly timed joke by the way Ghost swats him over the head, turning a deaf ear to Johnny's whining about it hurting.

"What's the matter lovie?" Ghost pulls your attention like a lighthouse in a vast ocean of darkness, "Did'yea think fockin' would be easy from being a peeping Tom?" You'd gotten a talking to plenty of times about having watched them fuck when they'd thought you were a cat.

You lower your head, unable to meet his eyes; funny how a fly can make you feel so small. "Yeah."

Johnny quirks a grin, "Need some guidance then?" You're confused until Johnny's hands move, blissfully warm fingers tickling along your ribs before lightly tugging on your nipple, and though logically you shouldn't feel much in your skin suit, it still has you rippling beneath your skin, a sharp breath leaving your lungs. "Need us tae show yae how ta snog?"

"Snog?" You ask, barely able to make your tone sound confused, or even human for that matter.

"Roll in the hay," Ghost joins him, much slower, paw like hand tracing down the curve of your spine, "mate," His hand dips down to your thigh, sliding up to your hip and not even you are oblivious enough to not see the implication. "have sex," Simon leans in to your ear, breath fanning your flesh. "Fuck."

A nonhuman sound escapes your throat, leaving their bones shaking, but you hardly notice as the promise of having them, of touching them like none of your kin have before, makes your head nod automatically.

"Use your words godling," Simon orders, and the second a 'yes' comes from your mouth Johnny's descending on you like a wolf, your teeth clacking together, tongue pushing past your lips to explore your mouth all over again, blunt nails scratching down your sides.

You kiss him back despite how uncoordinated you are, trying to retake the breath he's stealing from you, and the moment Johnny pulls back, panting, Simon is there. A firm hand on the back of your neck pulls you to meet Ghost's lips, rough and demanding, already so familiar that deaf and blind you'd be able to tell them apart.

You melt between them, between their lips and their touches, not even noticing how drops of liquid abyss pushes past your pores; fingers turning into claws to help disrobe them, eyes spreading across your body to see both of their reactions as you touch and feel, teeth elongating and filling all the corners of your mouth better mark them, tongue elongating and darkening to push as deep into Soap's tight heat as you can, each twist and turn of your monstrous tongue making Soap whine and pant and moan like a receptive mate, viscous saliva staining his shaking thighs and marking him as yours.

Your mind only returns when you feel Ghost's rough hand on your cock, what should be a normal human mating organ turned ridged and bumpy, squirming like an eel in his hand, your viscous precum leaving his skin tingling. "Fuck, I-" You jump, tongue still lodged deep in Johnny's ass, your voice ringing all around and gently shaking the ground.

"Easy there," Ghost shushes you like a frightened stallion, not even a bit unnerved by your current condition. The booze you'd all drank helps to make their minds more receptive to your existence, the horrific sight of bits of you pushing out of your human skin only tickling their skulls.

"Think he's stretched enough," Ghost strokes you a few more times, before a firm hand on your nape makes you pull your head back, slowly dragging your foot long tongue out despite how desperately Johnny's walls clench down on you— it has you salivating to have your mouth on him again.

"Ghost." You manage out, every bit of you shuddering from the look he gives you, by the way he tugs you closer by your cock until your tip's tickling Johnny's well lubed entrance.

"Fuck, look how desperate you've made him." Ghost's words make your eyes, all your eyes, focus on Johnny; pleasure makes your chest burn hot with how fucked out he looks, panting like he's in heat, drool running down his chin, eyes bleary and unfocused, whole body boneless and splayed out for you.

"Shite," Soap pants, barely able to catch your gaze, spreading his legs even wider for you, his hand roughly pawing at his own cock. "C'mon- fock- just please, let me- need you-"

"Go on godling," Ghost growls, trusting you to follow his orders so he takes his place by Johnny's head, his dick hard and red right in front of Johnny's lips. "Take 'im."

You don't dare refuse, pushing your hips forward, your writhing cock seeking out his hole, easily slipping inside. Immediately pleasure bangs on your skull, on your mind, like a hammer, distant stars cracking from how you groan, sinking inch after inch into him. Your shaft squirms inside, squirming, stretching, feeling every inch of his walls and when you slam inside that tight heat fully Johnny screams.

You stop all at once, the temperature in the room dropping, your nonexistent heart shredding itself at the thought of having hurt them— only to feel Johnny bucking his hips into yours, his arousal sticking to your tongue like honey.

"Aye, he's a slag," Simon laughs, guiding his tip to Soap's mouth and having him immediately latch on, plump lips wrapping tightly around Simon's large shaft and bobbing his head. "Yea can go rougher, he likes the pain."

Wearily, you snap your hips, your strength far surpassing theirs, almost doubling over at how he clenches around you like a vice and moans in such a sacrosanct way. Even with Ghost's cock half-way down his throat, Johnny tries to beg you to move, pretty tears in his eyes awakening something deep and hungry inside you.

Your flesh suit moves on it's own and you're unable to do anything else but follow and feel, burning every sound you tear from Johnny's occupied mouth into your eternal memory, each praise that falls from Ghost's lips as you hammer into the hot willing body beneath you making you edge closer and closer towards release, your claws leaving red bleeding lines where you grip his shaking legs to keep him stable.

You don't even notice when you lean down, the 'crack' of bone Johnny's only warming before the newly formed maw at your torso envelops his leaking cock. The taste of his precum, like sweetened communal wine, floods your senses, your tongue hanging out of your mind as you brainlessly hump into him, barely able to catalogue each little twitch of his legs when you pound him in just the right spot.

You cum incredibly fast, centuries later you'll be embarrassed at how poorly you lasted, but right now all your attention, all your focus, all you are, boils down to them— their scents, their low groans, their moans, the blissful heat of Johnny's walls clenching down on you as you slam your hips into his and cum, flooding his receptive body with your seed.

Johnny cums as quickly as you, shooting his cum into your awaiting mouth and into the darkness between stars where your true body resides, small little gurgles coming from him as he swallows down Simon's own release.

You collapse on top of him, your mind empty for the first time since your birth, carnal pleasure having reduced you to nothing but an animal. There are so many eyes all over your body yet not one of them can look at Ghost without his silhouette doubling in your vision, your body so sensitive that even a brush of his hand across your sweaty skin has you moaning softly.

"That's a good god," Ghost snorts, ruffling your sweaty hair. Then his fingers slide down, carefully avoiding poking the numerous eyes as he grips your chin, making you look at him. "D'yea think you can go again? This one is far from done." He hums, noting how Johnny's hip continues to twitch into yours despite how fucked out he is.

You don't know how much you have in you, but you're about to find out. . .

508 notes · View notes

scarthefangirl · 10 months

Text

Admit it

Hobie brown x fem!reader

Request: Can I get a hobie brown x stubborn fem! reader. Like they obviously like each other but won’t do anything about bc of her. Hobie keeps asking what’s up and she just brushes it off. Turns out, she just wants to protect him.

Warnings: Some language, angst, poorly written lmao, not proof read

Story type: Blurb

PART 2 |

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

After a particularly pressing mission, your new focus was on the grumbling in your stomach.

I grab a tray and fill it with food, rushing to an empty table. As I take my first bite, hear a tray slamming down across from me. I glance up and see Pavitr smiling at me over the table.

"So," He says cheerfully, drawing out the 'o'.

"Yes?" I ask, mouth full of food. The second I have enough swallowed, I take another large bite.

"You and Hobie…. What's the deal?" He inquires and my face immediately heats up. I take a moment to swallow my food and reply simply,

"There is no deal."

"You guys flirt all the time! You obviously like each other." He presses. My heart races at the thought of Hobie and I consider confiding in Pav. Nausea twists into my stomach and I just shake my head and take another bite. The topic is not up for discussion. "Y/N, you deny your feelings every time someone asks. Why won't you admit you like him? You guys could be so happy." My chest tightens and for a second I nearly forget how to swallow.

"There's no feelings." I shrug.

"Admit you like him and spare us all this agony of waiting!" He exclaims and luckily I am saved from Pav's interrogation when Hobie takes a seat next to him, Gwen and Miles plopping down next to me.

"Admit she likes who?" Hobie asks with a smirk, although he already knows who he was asking about. I just stuff my mouth with my lunch, barley taking a break to breathe. Throughout lunch I catch his gaze on me, not attempting to hide it, and I feel my stomach churning.

I survive lunch unscathed and head to the only place I feel like I can really breath, the roof of the building I was just eating in. I sigh in relief the second I step into the open, freshness of the outdoors. I take a seat, dangling my legs off the edge. I breath in and out evenly, staring out at the vast view of headquarters. The spider people walking and flinging around look like ants from my elevated position.

I sit like this for a while. Calm and away from the stress of headquarters. But it is ruined when a voice calls out behind me, drawing nearer.

"Y/N what are ya doin up here?" The familiar British voice rung in my ears, immediately placing butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

"It's peaceful," I say, looking at Hobie as he sits next to me. "Or, it was." I tease. We settle into silence, both staring forward. He bounces his legs as they dangle and I can hear his heavy breathing, subconsciously matching it. His proximity causes shortness of breath and I am about to get up when he speaks, breaking the silence.

"Its a beautiful view." He states and I nod. We both turn to face forward again, the wind humming in my ear and blowing my hair gently. I wish we could be here forever, sitting in each others quiet presence. But we can't.

I notice him scooting closer, slowly. If I blinked I wouldn't have even noticed him closing the gap between us. I can't help the sick feeling overcoming me, making me want to free fall off the edge.

We both look at each other, holding eye contact. Normally one of us would ruin the moment with a snarky comment, but instead he begins to lean in slightly. I feel his breath and it sends shivers down my spine. For a minute I want to kiss him, well, I always want to, but for a fleeting second I almost do. I wish I could freeze time, just like this, and stay like this forever.

"I- I can't." I whisper, heart breaking as I pull back. I turn away, missing the hurt flash across his face. This isn't the first time I've ended a moment before it can begin. I know I'm leading him on, but he makes it hard not to succumb to the moment. But a certain spidermans voice rings through my head in these moments, clearly saying "You have to keep your distance."

"This is one fucked up game darlin," He sighs with a humorless chuckle and I know he's right. He doesn't understand how bad I want to be his everything. He doesn't understand how much it hurts me to be the bad guy. He doesn't understand the longing I feel.

"You're so good at games though," I laugh, and he knows what I'm getting at.

"I flipped the board one time in the game of Life. It is a major misconception of real adult hood. Not everyone wants to get married or have kids or go to university," He rolls his eyes, and I don't mind his rant. I chuckle and like that, it's like the almost kiss never happened.

"You guys completed the mission?" Miguel questioned harshly. Everyone nods and he continues, "How was the performance?"

"Everyone did well," Gwen says and everyone hums in agreement. "Pavitr and Miles did exceptional with getting the people out." She adds.

"Y/N you specifically disobeyed orders and went into the building when you were supposed to be helping Gwen." Miguel snaps and I feel embarrassment bubbling in my stomach.

"She don't follow rules, if she did she'd be boring." Hobie says which earns a vicious glare from Miguel. Hobie puts his elbow on my shoulder, head in his hand, and leans his weight on me. I feel scarlet crawling up my neck and spreading onto my face. I catch Miguel's fixed glare on me and look to the ground.

"Hands off Brown." I grin and step to the side, causing him to loose balance for a moment. He passes me a dirty look and I laugh at him.

As everyone is leaving, Miguel tells me to stay back. My shoulders tense and I can't bare to look him in his red eyes. "Y/L/N. Have you been following my orders?" He demands.

"Hmm, what were they again?" I pretend to forget, scrunching my face and holding my chin to annoy Miguel. It works, his scowl deepening.

"Y/L/N, I tell you everyday. You can't date Hobie. You have to keep your distance. It's better that way."

"I know. I know, okay?" I groan, wishing he wouldn't stress it so much. It only makes it hurt me worse. He just pinches the bridge of his nose, no doubt mentally cursing me.

"You can't disrupt the canon." I roll my eyes at his comment.

"I know." And with that I turn around and stomp out. I can't stand this. Not being able to be with the boy I'm head over heels for, all because I'm supposed to have my first kiss with someone else.

That's my fucking canon event. My first kiss, and then other bullshit. I can't kiss Hobie because that's not my canon first kiss, and have to keep my distance because its canon that my first kiss happens on my first ever date so I have to wait to go on my first date for some idiot from my universe.

I'm so entranced in my thoughts as I walk aimlessly around, not knowing where I plan on going, when I bump into Hobie. I nearly fall but he catches me and helps me get my balance. Again, blush creeps onto my face.

"Now you're literally falling for me," He smirks, the lighting causing his rose ring to sparkle. I narrow my eyes and snort. "You alright?" He asks in a mocking way.

"Yeah, sorry," I grumble and step out of his grasp.

"Didn't you fall on me the first time we met?" He reminisces, walking with me as I shuffle forward. I remember as well, I had just joined and I had pissed off a spider cat, I was running from it when I bumped into him and took him down. I immediately fell for him, ironically.

"I can't forget when we first met." I start and his eyes widen in surprise at my sentiment. "But I'll keep trying." Which causes him to glare at me andd flip me his middle finger.

"Aren't you miss snarky?" He elbows me and I laugh. We walk together for awhile, to nowhere in particular. Eventually we catch up to Miles and Pav, who wiggle their eyebrows at us.

"Ooh, look at the love birds." Miles nudges Pavitr, a sly grin on his face. Although I know where they are coming from, it doesn't stop my heart from dropping.

"Where?" I play dumb and look around with a fake jaw drop.

[Two days later]

We have finished working for the day and a lot of my spider friends are chilling in one of the many living rooms in headquarters with me.

"Anyone else starving or just me?" Peter b asks, Mayday crawling on his shoulders. I nod hastily in agreeance. "Im going to get some dinner, who's with me?" He stands and a few others do too.

"I think I'm just going to head home to eat, but thanks!" I smile and wave them off. They linger outside for a moment, trying to decide on something.

"Want to go back with me and grab a bite together?" Hobie asks, staring into my eyes. I avert his gaze, cheeks burning.

"I'm okay, thanks though." I say with a faltering smile. My eyes fall to the floor as I hear the murmurs of the group quiet at the sound of my rejection.

"Another time then." He smirks but I notice the grimace behind his expression.

"Maybe," I lie for his sake and head back to my universe as quickly as possible.

"I can't believe you did that!" Pavitr gags in disgust.

"it's not so bad," I shrug and take another bite of the mayo lathered corn. Miles shudders in disgust and Gwen rolls her eyes. I lift another spoonful to my mouth when the spoon is snatched from my hand as Hobie takes a seat next to me. He stuffs it into his mouth and swallows, then makes a scrunched up expression that leaves me staring slightly.

"That's putrid." He grimaced and I shrug once more.

"You just don't have an exquisite palette like I do." I puff my chest out and grin. He digs into the contaminated corn again, scooping another bite and eating it. "I thought it was putrid?"

"I don't believe in consistency," He gives me a side eye and I roll my eyes.

"Why don't you just admit you guys are in love?" Gwen blurts then turns pink in embarrassment. I immediately turn my head from Hobie, praying he doesn't notice the fluster evident on my face.

"Yeah Y/N, admit it." Hobie mocks and I shake my head.

"there's nothing to admit. I don't like Hobie." I say.

"Yes you do." The table says at the same time, including Hobie.

"No i don't."

"Oh please, admit it already." Miles groans.

"No, there isn't anything to admit."

"Yes there is," Hobie smirks and I fight the burning sensation that stings my cheeks.

"No." I press.

"Yes." He continues. Gosh, I just want to strangle him.

"No. Stop it." I say, heart dropping. I can't like him why can't he be okay with that? I can tell he feels guilty for pressing, which makes me feel bad for snapping. "Sorry, I'm sorry." I close my eyes tightly and sigh, getting up from the table and going to my safe place. The roof.

I am welcomed with a gush of wind that blows my hair into my eyes and mouth. I have to continuously brush the hair away as I sit in my usual place. Even with the hair in my face and the wind burning my skin slightly, its still calming. Until its not.

"Y/N!" Hobie calls in a sing-song voice and I close my eyes in aggravation. He takes a seat next to me and I feel a lump growing in my throat. I just want to hold him and kiss him and hug him and never let him go.

"Do you pretend to like me, or pretend not to?" He asks and it takes me a second to understand.

"I don't do either." I say flatly, standing up to leave. Miguel would want me to walk out and keep my distance. And that's what I am doing, walking away, until Hobie uses his webs to bring me tumbling into him. I gasp in fear that I'll fall over the edge but Hobie catches me. I pant to catch my breath as i sit wear I was before.

"I should push you off this damn roof, Brown!" I shout.

"Oh please, you're fine. You're just proving my point. I know you, if you didn't like me than you would've pushed me." He chuckles and then gets a serious look on his face. "Why do you act like you don't like me? Am i-" he groans, embarrassed of his next question. "Am I doing something wrong?"

He's looking at me with the saddest expression I've ever seen him make and it nearly causes the lump in my throat to escape into a sob, but I manage to keep it down.

"You're not doing anything wrong Hobie." I sigh and gaze into his eyes, my own glossed over.

"Then what is it?" He demands, "You owe me an explanation!"

"I also owe you like 40 bucks, so what?" I try to play it off, despite the crack in my voice, hoping we can toss this in the bin of 'forgotten' moments. We have a lot of them.

"Y/N." Is all it takes for tears to spring out of my eyes. He looks surprised, scooting back slightly. I rub extremely hard at my eyes with my hands until I've relatively stopped.

"Sorry the wind got in my eyes." I laugh, but its not even half hearted. When he looks at me I know he doesn't believe a thing I say.

"Just tell me the truth." I meet his eyes as he speaks and feel my heart breaking at how badly I want to smash my lips against his. We stare into each other's eyes so deeply it makes me want to shuffle off the edge. My face twitches towards his and then I pause.

"I can't Hobie." I whisper but it is pointless to say anything, the look we're sharing tells enough truth. Before I realize what we're doing I am swept in the moment and we begin to kiss. Its better than I've ever imagined. His kisses me delicately, like I am fragile. I suppose I am, considering this may be the only time we kiss. We should savor it.Despite his gentleness, I kiss him with urgency and desperation. I need this. I need him.

After a moment, reality comes crushing in. I'm kissing Hobie. My first kiss, Hobie Brown. I can't do this! This is it, I've ruined everything. It's self sabotage. This is just making it harder than it has to be. I am about to pull away and tell him it's a mistake, but before I get the chance Miguel's voice booms from behind us.

"Y/L/N!" He shouts an I flinch, scrambling away from Hobie. Immediately I burst into tears. Its too much. "I've told you countless times not to do this. You had ONE rule." He yells and confusion clouds Hobie's face.

"I've ruined everything." I whisper to Hobie, but really to myself. Tears stream down my face as Michael's large shadow covers me in shade. "I'm sorry." I tell Miguel, throat tight as I keep myself from sobbing.

"It's too late Y/N. There's no going back now." He says it dangerously low. "Get up." I obey, and as I turn to follow him away I glance back at Hobie, who is no doubt utterly confused. I'm sorry, I mouth to him sadly.

I tried to stay away from him, but I couldn't.

part 2 ;)

Tags: // @liliummz // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @depressednoob // @cerene-ciderr // @leighanne03 // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @singhfae // @mythixmagic // @itsyourboymicheal // @ravensinthedaylight // @dai-tsukki-desu // @url0calw3irdo // @daisydark // @snzzysstuff // @0-n-1-x // @darkdakota8998 //

Join my taglist!

1K notes · View notes

steveharringtonat3am · 1 year

Text

Free use with Steve

kinktober masterlist!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: roomate!steve, free use agreement (fully consensual), an allusion to sex, hair pulling, degradation, a little bit of bondage, penetrative sex, edging

a/n: shoutout to the loml @ddejavvu for helping me out with some characterization!! dedicating this one to her as 1/2 of her birthday present!! <3

When I had first seen Steve’s ad for a roommate, I hadn’t paid any mind to the lack of a rent price in the ad. I figured he would let me know if he actually wanted me to move in. So after he showed me around and we talked for a bit about all the major stuff, I asked about it. And he gave the most intriguing answer I’ve ever heard.

“Well, I’m gonna offer you two options. You could pay half of the rent, so about $900 a month or…you could-could pay nothing.” This option seems to make him nervous, as he shifts slightly in his seat.

“Pay nothing?”

“See, that comes with a catch. If you choose to pay nothing then I would cover you and…you would have to return the favour.” A hint of red colours his cheeks. While I admit it suits him, it gives me a hint as to where this conversation is going.

“And how would I do that?”

“By being a-available at all times.” He smiles sheepishly and fiddles with his hoodie strings

“Available for…what exactly?”

“Sex.” When he says it I think I’ve misheard him. But…he couldn’t have said anything else. He takes my staring as a cue to explain further.

“Well…that sounds bad. You don’t have to have sex with me, especially not right away. And you’re perfectly welcome to pay your half of the rent and completely forget about this. But I like you. And my job is…pretty stressful. So if you would be okay with me relieving that stress with you, I’d be happy to cover the full rent.” He smiles softly and I take a second to process all this. I mean, I did think he was really cute. And definitely my type.

Also, I didn’t have many other options for an apartment. This place was in a good neighbourhood, I had my own bathroom, a nice kitchen, and plenty of natural light. I would be crazy to give that up. And I would be even crazier to give up living rent-free in exchange for having occasional sex with my very hot roommate.

“You know what? Sure. You’ve got a deal, Harrington. Just don’t be a perv.” His laugh is boyish, grinning as he sips his water.

“You’ve got my word.”

So, I moved in a week later. Frankly, it was a great deal. Steve was incredibly sweet and we ended up spending a lot of time together. Which of course, had its perks.

“Holy shit,” I whisper into the hot room, as Steve collapses next to me, panting.

“Holy shit is right. I figured it would take at least another month before we hooked up.” He smiles at me and I can’t help but return it.

“I really thought the only times we would do anything would be whenever you wanna take your stress out on me,” I say as he tugs me close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Well, I had to give you a little preview of what you’re signing up for. Would hate to condemn you to mediocre sex.” He chuckles and I smile up at him.

“I don’t think anything about you is mediocre, Steve Harrington.”

After that, he really took advantage of our agreement. He started off slow, wandering hands when I was doing the dishes, gently groping me if I was near, a lewd comment every once in a while. Honestly, I liked it. It made me feel so wanted. I found myself craving every glance, comment, and touch.

When he finally upped the ante, bending me over the counter one night after dinner to fuck me with almost no warning, it was practically a dream come true.

And boy did Steve know it.

“Fucking stupid motherfuckers.” I hear Steve cursing under his breath as he slams the front door behind him. I pause my movie, turning to look at him. He’s toeing his shoes off, furiously tugging at his tie. I know how much he hated the thing. It represented everything he hated while working at his dad’s firm.

“Bad day?” I question, finally gaining his attention. The second his eyes focus on me, they darken.

“Mhm. Very…stressful.” He crosses the room quickly. His hand gently pushes my hair away from my face before gripping it tightly. Steve knows to grab at the base of the hairs, so it doesn’t hurt as much but I still wince.

“I-I can help with that?” I peer up at him and he breaks for a second, smiling fondly.

“You’re such a good girl…turn around?” He grips the fabric of his tie in his hands, making me grin and turn. The second I’m situated, he smacks me with it. It barely stings, but the surprise makes me yelp.

“Be quiet. Don’t wanna hear you.” He grips my wrists in one hand, wrapping his tie around them. This was not a new thing, so I don’t squirm. Steve enjoyed having my hands bound while he used me.

I try not to move as he tugs my pyjama pants down just enough to expose my ass. Luckily for him, it was laundry night so I had forgone panties.

“Such a slut.” He mumbles, ever a fan of degradation. His hand runs over the fat of my ass, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. He pulls away to undo his pants, the metal of his belt buckle clicking as he drops the leather to the floor. A small part of me is disappointed. I’d been hoping he’d spank me at least a few times. It always hurt so well.

I feel the head of his cock line up with my entrance and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning.

“Fucking hell…” He curses as he starts pushing in. He goes slower than normal, maybe trying to make this last extra long. Steve was always a big fan of spending hours bringing both of us to the edge, just to stop so that we could do it all over again.

“Please…” I whisper before I can think. He stops and I tense, ready for him to spank me hard.

“I told you to be fucking quiet.” Before I can apologize, he slams into me. I gasp, barely able to catch my breath as he starts pounding into me.

“S-such a stupid toy.” He moans softly, nails digging into me. Moans continue to slip out of me as the head of his cock slams into that spot that makes me go crazy. He doesn’t bother reprimanding though, focusing on chasing his release.

“This pussy always feels so fucking good.” He groans. I can feel my orgasm building, the coil tightening with every deep thrust. I know Steve is on the edge, so I have to cum before he does. No way does he spend extra time on me now that I made noise.

“Shit!” He curses and I feel him cum. As his thrusts slow, my orgasm ebbs away. I whine weakly but he just chuckles and pulls out slowly. Cum slowly leaks out of me and runs down my thighs as Steve leans down to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t you know? Toys don’t get to cum.”

hope you enjoyed!!

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #kinktober #kinktober 2022

4K notes · View notes

ethereal-pie · 6 months

Text

bullfrog head cannons

I have seen no fics of this beautiful French man so I have done it myself

just a ramble of my thoughts in bullet point form

he is an american bullfrog, he not only looks like one but also there are tons in France

He enjoys warmth and gets grumpy if he is too cold

I feel like he doesn’t touch you all that much but adores cuddling

If given the opportunity he will burry himself in pillows and blankets ( bonus if they are weighted) especially during winter cuz of his hibernation instinct

He will insist you join him and promise it’s very comfortable

He isn’t slimy like his real world counterpart but his skin feels very moisturized

He gets cold super easy and shove himself under your shirt or jacket to soak up your natural body heat

You also don’t have to worry about it being too hot to cuddle as he is cool to the touch

He will insist you let him put his cold ass hands on your bare back to warm them up , he will pout if you don’t let him

Letting him do this will more then likely result in him having his head under your shirt and his face pressed into your back and his hands on your upper stomach

He usually avoids conventional touch based pda, the most normal pda you’ll get out of under normal circumstances is a peck on the cheek

Instead the way he shows touch based pda is by sitting on your shoulders

Although if he is super cold he won’t care all that much

And Unless your in a situation where being partners with him would put you in danger, he will be fairly vocaly affectionate

He will call you his beloved and other pet names

As well as praise, flirt and compliment you

Some of His pet names involve your name

He seems like a darling, my dear, love type of person

He will jokingly call you stupid ones as well

He has a lot of running jokes with you and will tease and joke around with you all the time, he just likes laughing with you in general

Some of your jokes might take a second to land with him in the beginning but as your relationship continues he will pick up almost immediately

He tries really hard to be cool cuz he wants to make friends but everyone being stuck on him being a frog annoys him a lil

He will complain about this to you at least once

He is trying to be cool and Poetic!

When he is mad he will begin to speak in a mix of French and English but he doesn’t really yell at all, he does talk faster tho

He will bath for hours but doesn’t like to shower

He cannot use certain soaps or he will get sick because he will absorb the chemicals through his skin

He likes the look of bubble baths but if he sits in them he gets sick cuz of the soap In the water

Given his accent I assume he speaks French but I think he can speak multiple European language, due to his job

He is very adverse to the idea of eating bugs, he isn’t scared of them but if someone offers him a bug he will be grossed out.

He is the kind of person to not only catch and release bugs he finds inside but he will have little convos with them too

You’ll hear in the other room “hello there my miniature friend.’’ And as he takes them outside “ I’m very sorry but you cannot stay here.”

His approach to flying bugs is far different, he will take NO PRISONERS

He is very efficient with a fly swatter and knows all the concoctions to lure and kill flys fruit or other wise

He avoids using his hands cuz of the bug guts

If you are afraid of bugs he will find it amusing but he won’t tease or torment you, he will just chuckle at how ridiculous you look up on the counter while he captures the invader.

He is very polite and kind to everyone he interacts with unless they have done something to warrant other wise

He will use French sayings in English instead of the English one because he is convinced that “ they are far superior”

Pins and needles are now ants, it’s raining ropes not animals, forget apples and trees, dogs don’t make cats.

If you use the English versions he will argue the French version is better

“ bolt of lightning explans the felling of it, love at first sight is so bland.’’

Please convert he will find it unendingly adorable every time

He does get cuteness aggression and will randomly shove his face into your chest and aggressively nuzzle into you whist squeezing you and violently kicking his legs and making a happy humming

He will be embarrassed the first few times he does this

He will get cuteness aggression from your cuteness aggression

If you bite him he will be very confused but won’t care all that much so long as you aren’t hurting him

You will probably be taller then him and honestly he likes it that way because when you hug him he feels like momentarily he is a totally encased by you

You can carry him but only certain ways

No toddler hold, with one arm and him on your hip

Piggy backs, shoulder sitting and standing are encouraged

You can only sling him over your shoulder in emergency’s

Same with under your arm

He doesn’t like princess carry’s cuz he can’t hold on to much and he wants to touch with max surface area

Carrying him by his armpits away from you has the same problem, he will struggle

He does enjoy if you hug carry him with both arms, either his face in on your chest or resting on your shoulder

I have made a helpful diagram ( I can draw but it’s just stick me cuz I’m lazy)

He will randomly start monologueing if given the opportunity

He will tell you about being an assassin but only if you ask

I think he is more likely to be with Someone who has prior experience with fighting

He feels nauseous after producing bubbles

He will lean on or try to be touching you while he recovers

You cannot truly surprise him, he will know something is up the moment you even begin to plan

He knows because you act slightly different

And hiding or sneaking something past him is also impossible

He has to actively try to avoid finding out what your doing

You’ve snuck something into the garage, I guess he isn’t going In There for a while

Hiding something behind your back, he isn’t even gonna face your direction while you hide it

You cannot sneak up on him either

When you try he will scare you by suddenly turning around and grabbing you

On the other hand he has scared and surprised you accidentally many times

hope you enjoy and this inspires more fic to be written of bullfrog

#Bullfrog #captain laserhawk #captainlaserhawk #bullfrog x reader #Bullfrog images #captain lazerhawk head cannons

453 notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 1 year

Text

podcast confessions 🎙

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: not proofread, pls expect errors! hope ure all having a good day so far <33 lmk what u guys think! heavier on the twitter part hehe

about: you and charles share stories on a much awaited podcast episode!

divestudios

liked by sainzfilms, 16ferrari, girliepop, and 542,234 others

divestudios Aaaand you guessed it right, motorsport enthusiasts! This week on Dive Studios, Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc and girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N will be seated as our first guests for our segment "Destined" ❤️

Destined will be a regular segment in our podcast show where we invite couples to talk about all things love and relationship! We are excited to be in the studio with Y/N and Charles – who are apparently ranked by fans as the best couple on the Formula 1 grid!

Tag us on twitter divestudios for the questions you want to ask them!

tagged: charles_leclerc and yourusername

leclericciardo OH MY IM SO EXCITED

sainzhero my favorite couple 🫶

hamilt0n EXACTLY best couple on the grid so yeah we will be tuning in!

landonorris Someone ask them who the little spoon is cause Charles keep lying and I know its him

mercfan WHAT R U DOING HERE LANDO 😭

yourusername

liked by isahernaez, lilymhe, pierregasly, and 340,458 others

yourusername just found out my boyfriend almost said the l word the same day i did, cant believe i beat him to it 🤣 je taimé, baby! words are never enough to express how much i love you 🤍

ps. thanks everyone for loving our destined episode that aired today! we were honestly reallyyy nervous but seeing all the love really put a smile on our faces xx

charles_leclerc My person ❤️ I love you please wait for me before you eat dinner

sainzzzzlove u guys r so casual here now i love it so much

lilymhe LOOOVED THE PODCAST SO MUCH!!!

carlossainz55 Lol I remember the day he told me he loved you, really was smiling ear to ear

charles_leclerc Woah what's with the expose, mate?

pascale_leclerc The sweetest 🥰 I miss you both!

landonorris Get the podcast away from me I am being attacked by ants

yourusername you literally sent a question

---------

tagging: @slytherheign mwag

notes: this seemed like a cute idea sighs a love like this please 😴 lmk what u guys think!

2K notes · View notes

natsarrownecklacx · 8 months

Text

Cruelty Is An Art Form

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count- 1,920

Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings- Minors this fic isn’t for you, Allusion to murder, Dark Mob Natasha, Thigh riding, marking, allusion to non con.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

There is no evil known to mankind worse than Natasha Romanoff. Of this, you are almost certain.

Sure there are other terrible things that plague the world like famine, natural disasters and horrific diseases, but the difference between Natasha and all of those things is that, when it comes to how they affect people, it isn’t their fault. All of those things are more or less out of our control, and the way they impact people, out of their control.

Natasha however, is practiced with her cruelty. Each and every ounce of pain and suffering she inflicts is calculated and purposefully. She takes a pride in it that could only be measured to that of a parent towards their child or an artist towards their art.

Usually when a person contains this type of passion for cruelty it would be contained to the unfortunate few people who find themselves in the presence of the evil being who cultivates it. For example serial killers or people with an affinity for torture and their victims.

Sadly this isn’t the case with Natasha Romanoff, who has enough power and influence that her cruelty spans over hundreds if not thousands of people, even if they do not realize it. As the leader of one of the most powerful and dangerous gangs in New York City, Natasha’s control spans just over triple the city's population.

She is known throughout the underworld of gang leaders as the “black widow”, the name being given to her in recognition of the countless bodies she has left up and down the coast of many cities across the globe.

No one would dare mess with her, in any way, unless they had a death wish. Even then, unless that person wanted to die in the most slow and torturous ways even the darkest minds could not conceive, they would stay far, far away from her.

Which is something you’ve, thankfully, managed to do for all twenty years of your life, despite your fathers standing as a rival gang leader in New York. One that, for the past few months, Natasha has been taking territory from.

To Natasha anyone other than herself and the few people of her inner circle are merely ants ready to be squashed under her boot at a moments notice, even purely for her own twisted entertainment. So she did not know, nor did she care, who’s territory she was taking over, nor did she fear any backlash from the unknown ant.

Your father let her behavior slide, for the sake of peace and to avoid the possibility of innocent civilians getting harmed in the crossfire if he were to start a war between his own gang and the widows.

He has warned you to stay far away from her, away from any territory she deemed her own, in fear that she may recognise you and harm you for the sake of sending a message to not only him but the other leaders in the city.

So you did as he asked and stayed away, not wanting to cause any problems for your father or anyone else. But how were you to know that while you were on a night out with your friends that the redhead would choose the exact bar you occupied and claim it as her own, killing the previous owner where he sat in his office before strolling her way up to the bar to order herself a glass of vodka.

Natasha sits at the bar, glass in hand as she lazily surveys the room, looking for someone to sate her need for the night, getting her use out of the unwitting victim before killing them.

As she moves her gaze around the room her eyes land on you, a pretty girl on the dance floor moving her hips along to the music in a way that catches Natasha’s attention and stops her mid way raising her glass to her mouth.

She watches you for a few moments, her darkening eyes drinking in every sway and move of your body as you lose yourself to the music and atmosphere around you, dangerously unaware of the predator approaching.

Natasha is unaware of who you are and in all honesty, she doesn’t care, her plan for you remains the same. Act like the sweet gentle woman she never will be, convince you to accompany her back to her mansion, use you like a toy until the sun comes up and then discard you like the broken used thing you will be once she's finished with you.

Natasha approaches you, reaching a hand out to your waist, moving her body against yours to the beat of the music. She treads lightly, not wanting to scare you off before she can get you at least into her car. The idea of making a public scene tonight just seems like an annoying headache for the redhead.

Feeling a feminine body slid in behind you mould to your own does not bother you, even as her hands slid sensually around your waist, pulling you flush against her. You relish in the attention from the unknown woman.

Natasha drags her lips against the pulse point of your neck causing you to tilt your head back, needing to give her more room. She suctions her lips to your neck, intent on leaving a mark and branding you as hers. Her toy for the night, her slut made to proudly wear her marks.

You can’t help the moan that quietly spills from your lips at the action, leaning your head back against her shoulder and moving your left hand up to grip the hair on the back of her neck, holding her in place while she leaves her marks on your skin.

Natasha slides her arms fully around your waist, tightening her hold on you and locking you in place as she slots her thigh between your legs. Your breath catches in your throat at the action and a whimper follows soon after when the mystery woman whispers “Move your hips, baby” in your ear hotly.

You do as she says, moving your hips slowly up and down her suit clad thigh. Her warm mouth continues its attack on the delicate skin of your neck, nipping and biting every so often to ensure her marks are clear.

The whole interaction makes you want to melt against her, melt into her, succumb to the pleasure the woman is bringing you. That is, until she tenses the muscles in her leg, the hard muscle hitting your clit just right in a way that has you moaning out “fuck” and tightening your hold on the redheads hair to the point that you cause her pain.

Natasha bites down hard on your neck in retaliation, the force of her teeth strong enough to nearly draw blood.

You gasp and quickly jerk your body away from her. Natasha loosens her hold, allowing you to turn and face her but still keeps you in her grasp. You spin around quickly, determined to tell her off for such a violent act.

Your breath is stolen from your lungs the second your eyes land on the woman your father spent countless day’s warning you away from.

Your eyes fill with fear, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, and you try to take a step back.

Natasha only tightens her grip on your waist, a smirk falling against her lips while confusion flickers behind her eyes. She can see from the look on your face that you know who she is, what she is capable of, yet she doesn’t know how. Word of the infamous black widow isn’t exactly common knowledge with the civilians in the city.

“You know me.” Natasha muses, tilting her head to the side slightly, her eyes lighting up when she feels you try to step away from her again. “And you're afraid.” She says, the smirk on her face nearly doubling in size, as she takes a step toward you.

Your eyes move frantically around the room, desperately looking for the men your father sent with you everywhere. Your body guards, as you call them, or your “protection detail” as they like to call themselves.

Natasha’s hold on your waist tightens again, pulling you flush with her front and ignoring your attempts to squirm away. Your attention turns back to her and you have to gulp down your fear at the sight of the look in her eyes. It truly feels to you as though she is a starved, deranged predator and you are her prey.

Natasha takes a moment to look you over, appraising you, while you squirm under her heavy stare, your eyes move away from her, unable to continue looking at her with the intensity of the moment.

“You're a pretty little thing aren’t you.” Natasha muses, gripping your jaw in her rough, calloused fingers and forcing you to look at her. Using her hold on your face she pulls you closer to her, until you are just a breath away.

Your mind tells you to slap her, to spit in her face, kick her between the legs and run as fast as your feet can carry you. Your survival instincts tell you otherwise, screaming at you that if you want to survive then you have to keep her as calm as possible until your fathers men realize where you are.

So you stand as still as you can, your hands making fists at your sides in an attempt to keep them from shaking. Natasha’s eyes glance down to your clenched fists, a smile sliding its way onto her face before her eyes move back to your face.

She moves her mouth next to your ear, her warm breath hitting your skin while she whispers to you. “Let me tell you a secret little dove.” You feel her lips smile against your skin, trailing a short path up and down the skin of your cheek before she speaks again. “I like it when pretty girls like you are afraid. The look you all get in your eyes when your afraid for your life…”

Natasha moves her hands to rest on the small of your back, moving your body in one swift jerk so that your thigh rests between her legs. She doesn’t waste a second before grinding down on the plush skin of your thigh, a grown falling from her lips at sensation. “... it gets me so, so wet, angel.”

Natasha feels more than hears the gasp that leaves your mouth, feels the air hit her face as she pulls back to look at you again. That annoying smirk is back on her face, her eyes dark with lust and need. You jerk your leg from between hers, narrowing your eyes at the fake pout she wears at the action.

Natasha tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, her eyes never leaving your face as she whistles a tune you’d never heard before. Within the blink of an eye nearly fifty bodies hit the floor, each of them going down silently, without so much as a scream, as though someone had simply powered them off.

You look around in shock and horror, your mind running through how she could have done something like that and if you’d be next.

“Don’t worry, angel.” Natasha coos, her voice a poor imitation of someone attempting to be soothing. “I won’t kill you.” She smiles, bringing her hands up to cup your face.

“You're of no use to me dead.”

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

A/n- Currently obsessed with dark mob boss Nat, let me know what you think so far, part two will be out this day next week

Part Two

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #Dark Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Mob boss Natasha x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff smut

811 notes · View notes